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[gavin62truck]

As much as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't getting sick, Tommy wasn't immune to that weird flu that's been going around after all.

Because now his name isn't Tommy. It's Wayne.

And after several days of not shaving in his flu-ridden delirium, he decided to give himself a mustache.

"Aw, c'mon, Miss Bar," he says, his usually rapid New York City bark replaced with a slow, Midwestern drawl. "You can't deny a fella just one sip of whiskey, now can you?"

A napkin appears. Yes, she can. Because of reasons.

Wayne sighs. Deeply, and sadly. Almost depressive, defeated. His shoulders hunched over, he slouches on a bar stool and lights a cigarette with tremulous fingers.

And yes, he's wearing a straw cowboy hat.



[OOC: Probably one of the last victims of the IMDb flu! Tommy is now Wayne from a movie called Jesus' Son.]

Comments

[iambetadraconis]

It could be that someone is immune to this very Milli bug.

Or maybe he's got something in the way of catching something else.

Like a mild case of the sniffles.

With a stuffed-up voice he asks for a bowl of chicken soup and a glass of orange juice.

Apparently this is what you do with colds.

"Oh. Hubbo..."

[gavin62truck]

Wayne slowly turns his head and looks at him with slightly glassy, bloodshot eyes.

"Evenin'."

He sniffs (he's not that stuffed up anymore, but he's still prone to sneezing).

"That there soup smells nice."

[iambetadraconis]

"Danks."

Pause.

"Un ob us can smull it adlees."

[gavin62truck]

He blinks at the fellow, real slow-like, a line forming between his brows. Even the corners of his mustache seem to droop even further.



"Beg yer pardon, what'd you say?"

[iambetadraconis]

"Uh sed atlees on uf us can smull it."

[gavin62truck]

Listening hard, he finally gets it, and he bobs his head in a nod.

"Ohh. Yeah. Well, hope it tastes as good as it smells. Tryin'a get over something m'self--"

He gets cut off by a sneeze into his sleeve.

"Ugh. 'Scuze me."

[iambetadraconis]

He hasn't forgotten who he is while sick, so he pops out his wand and manifests a small stack of tissues.

"Der. Dat miht help yu."

[gavin62truck]

When the tissues appear, his eyes grow wide, and he slowly sits up straighter while tipping his hat back on his head.

"Ho-lee shit."

Plucking a tissue off the stack, he examines it. Yup, it's real.

"Huh. Nice trick. Thanks."

Conjured up right on time, because he sneezes again. This's really getting annoying.

"Name's Wayne," he mutters half into his tissue.

[iambetadraconis]

Oh. Never seen magic before?

He may have to be careful. Some people don't take to magic well, though it sounds like Tommy Wayne's not in the freak out over it category.

"Yo welkum."

Pause. Some crackers are smushed and dropped into the soup.

"M'name's Rabastan."

[ikissdhimbck]

Tommy's gone rogue.

No, Wayne has slipped out when Kate wasn't looking. She'd only been taking a quick cat-nap to catch up on all the sleep she missed last night. But now he's gone, and he's too sick to be wandering around.

In a bar.

With no idea who he is.


Kate's combing the room, looking for a familiar face. Well — a familiar face with fuzzy facial hair and an ill-fitting hat, anyway.

[gavin62truck]

Wayne is sitting at the bar, so hunched over that it almost looks as if his chin is touching the counter top.

He's only trying to get the end of the quivering lit match to line up with the end of his cigarette.



He might be going a little cross-eyed.

[ikissdhimbck]

She's not sure that's him when she spots him. She can't get a good look at his face, but those legs — yes, those legs look familiar.

He'll likely hear the ignition flash of phosphorous and wood before he sees her or the fresh match she holds out, cupped to keep the flame bright, both hands as steady as a rock.

[gavin62truck]

Without moving, he blinks once at the new match that's just appeared in front of him. As his own match fizzles out, he drops it into an ashtray. He leans forward slightly to touch the end of his cigarette to the flame, and then takes a much-needed drag.

He certainly isn't one to balk at a helping hand when he needs to get something important done.

"Thanks, darlin'."

It's murmured a little sheepishly with a sidelong glance.

"Got restless. Didn't wanna wake you."

[ikissdhimbck]

"Y'should've anyway."

She doesn't look or sound anything other than calm. He's not a little boy left on the loose, but he's still acting awful queer.

She gives him a long once-over.

"That shake in your hands don't look good."

[gavin62truck]

"'S nothin'," he grunts, looking down at his hands and flexing his fingers, working the tremor out of them.

"Only gets this way when I don't got work to do. Gotta keep busy to keep it away. 'M fine, though."

Doesn't mean he won't break into a hacking cough. Which he does. The cigarette probably doesn't help matters.

[ikissdhimbck]

She frowns.

He's a whole new person, which means her usual tricks with Tommy won't work here. She's trying to feel out who he is, and what to do from there.

"Well, then. How d'you propose we keep you busy?"

If that'll keep him from wandering off, Kate's all on board. She touches his back, trying to be soothing.

[gavin62truck]

He sniffles, clears his throat, and takes another drag.

"Know a quick way to make a buck around here?"

He was waiting for Fuckhead, but he's not sure if the kid even knows about this place.

[hey35andholding]

There's a blonde nearby with feathered hair and a need to helicopter parent nearby.

And all she says by way of introduction is, "stop slouching!"

[gavin62truck]

Wayne very nearly sits bolt upright at the order, his match going out and singing his fingertips.

"Ow!"

Flicking the match away, he stares in bewilderment at the blond with large hair.

"'Scuze me, ma'am?"

[hey35andholding]

"You're excused," she growls. "Sorry, it's a reflex, I'm a mom," she explains. "Slouching just kind of sets me off."

[gavin62truck]

He shifts in his seat and blinks at her, eyebrows raised.

"Oh. Uh. Well, y'know, old habits die hard an' all. I'll try not to set you off again if I can help it, ma'am."

[hey35andholding]

"Good." She shifts in her seat. "Sorry. I guess the mom in me kind of lept out there...

[gavin62truck]

He bobs his head in a slow nod.

"Uh, okay. I, uh-- guess I didn't know I could still bring out the mother in someone, seein' as how I'm-- well, I ain't no spring chicken, that's for sure."

[hey35andholding]

She scoffs. "Believe me, no matter how old you get you'll never be too old for a little bit of mothering."

[gavin62truck]

"Heh, I s'pose so."

Touching the brim of his hat, he offers her a hand (while secretly wondering how she gets her hair so high up like that).

"Name's Wayne. What's yours?"