Lt. Kenneth Shea (
lt_shea62truck) wrote in
milliways_bar2014-02-21 08:29 pm
Entry tags:
Happy Hour
It's not that Kenny has been avoiding Milliways. It's just that ever since he started on his quest to find inner peace and be one with the world and all that mumbo jumbo, he no longer sees the end of the universe as an escape.
(Except when it comes to Sunshine's baked goods. He'll always show up for those, no matter how far away.)
So it's with some surprise that he finds the door again, and chooses to step through. After all, a full, meaningful life is all about the choices you make, isn't it?
Lieutenant, bartending duties are yours tonight, says the note on the napkin.
Kenny shifts his stare from the napkin to the dark wood counter top.
"Do I have a choice?"
Not really. xoxo
Oh, well.
At least he's off-duty. So he settles in behind the bar with a newspaper and a bottle of beer.
TONIGHT'S SPECIALS
Fireman's Brew Beers
Blonde
Brunette
Redhead
Fireman's Brew Soda
Root Beer
Cream Soda
Black Cherry
[OOC: Internet is annoyingly spotty at the moment! But in any case, this post will be open all night and all weekend.]
tiny tag: Lt. Kenny "Lou" Shea
(Except when it comes to Sunshine's baked goods. He'll always show up for those, no matter how far away.)
So it's with some surprise that he finds the door again, and chooses to step through. After all, a full, meaningful life is all about the choices you make, isn't it?
Lieutenant, bartending duties are yours tonight, says the note on the napkin.
Kenny shifts his stare from the napkin to the dark wood counter top.
"Do I have a choice?"
Not really. xoxo
Oh, well.
At least he's off-duty. So he settles in behind the bar with a newspaper and a bottle of beer.
Fireman's Brew Beers
Blonde
Brunette
Redhead
Fireman's Brew Soda
Root Beer
Cream Soda
Black Cherry
[OOC: Internet is annoyingly spotty at the moment! But in any case, this post will be open all night and all weekend.]
tiny tag: Lt. Kenny "Lou" Shea

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"Hey, its been a while. Could I get a Black Cherry soda?"
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"William! Sure thing, but Christ, what happened to your face?"
He pulls an ice cold bottle from the refrigerator and sets it on the counter.
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At this point, he's healing but it still sounds bad.
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"I'm-- fine, just fine. But let me try to follow this chain of events here. You got sick, and you thought you were someone else. Are you saying that this illness that you had, whatever it was, caused you to think you were someone else who could win a duel? And by duel, do you mean, like-- with swords?"
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He really hates this particular strain of flu.
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Okay. Okay, fair enough.
Still, though.
"Yes, well, that's-- yeah, that's a pretty strange illness to make you believe you're French. Who exactly did you think you were the last time?"
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He takes a drink of his soda, which is tasty.
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"Thinking you're the son of a Greek god still sounds a lot safer than someone who uses a sword for a living. Who kicked your ass in that duel?" He peers at William's bruises with more concern.
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Javert's confusing too since he also looks like Ben Wade.
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"Well, as long as you got a few good licks in. I would imagine things might be pretty awkward if you come across each other again when you're both yourselves."
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It just added another level of awkward.
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No love lost, all the awkward gained.
"So, this thing was contagious? Wow, glad I wasn't around for it. I'm good with just being myself, thanks."
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He doesn't think he would have fought Javert or Wade if it wasn't for the clue and having a weapon.
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He wonders if Tommy caught it. Tommy never tells him things anymore.
"So, read any good books lately?"
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"Oh, that sounds useful. No, I haven't."
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He knows of William's fight for a better life for himself and his family and how it's hard to keep up hope in hard times, so maybe something like this could be useful. So he writes down on a napkin the title of the book, The Tao of Pooh, and slides it toward him.
"Look that up in the library some time if you'd like. I highly recommend it."
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The book seems like some of the stories people have created to deal with the War, but maybe it relies less on belief.
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He shrugs and smirks and takes a sip of his beer.
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"Yeah, if you want to call it bad luck. That's the kind of stuff that makes you believe the universe is conspiring against you, determined to turn your life into a big joke. But," he heaves a sigh, sounding more optimistic and looking brighter, "that's all in the past. You've got to learn how to let go and move on, and find something else to occupy your time. Easier said than done, but to me the hardest part is just knowing how to start."
Maybe he'll never completely let go and move on deep down inside, but if he can convince himself that this stage in his existence is good for him, then so be it.
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Since there's always going to be something.
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