milliways_bar | Entries tagged with kevin fawkes

qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com

"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."

I don't know how much experience the Cat in the Hat had with loss, real loss, but this time I'm trying. I'm trying to smile because this is it. This is the end. This is me, Darien Fawkes, putting down one life and starting a whole new one on a completely different world. This is me, leaving behind my Coca-Cola fridge and my Miles Davis records and my job and my life and my hair-care products.

Yeah, I couldn't get 'em all into the bag. I'll buy new ones when I get there.

But it could be worse. It really could be worse, but it's not. So I'm just gonna focus on the positive. On the fact that I'm as sane as I'm ever gonna get, that I've got a place to stay already, and that Kevin's coming with me. That's...

Better than it could be.

"Hey, Kev?" he looks back, "need me to take any of your stuff?"

Darien's got a sizable backpack on his shoulders already but Kevin's things are somewhat awkward. Not so much weight as size and shape.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin is sitting at a table near the bar with his dinner (roast beef, some potatoes, and a healthy serving of vegetables with a mug of ale).

He's not touching it yet. He's too busy trying to assimilate what Garion just told him.

He can go with Darien when his brother leaves. He can be alive again. And all for a minute's spellwork. It's a lot to take in.

Feel free to interrupt him, though. Make him eat before the food goes cold.

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

For the purposes of mun sanity, let us say Garion has not seen Mary Sue or heard of her handy work.

Just to keep sanity.

That said, he's bartending. There aren't any specials on the board as he hadn't thought of anything good so he'd decided that the first three drinks asked of him would get put up whenever people decided to order them.

tookfoolery.livejournal.com

Pippin sits on his feet in a too-large chair, looming over a tremendous slice of pie on the tabletop.

~~Cue Jaws theme.~~

From the way he smiles at it, you'd think it was an old friend.

[OOC: Very plot-locked; sorry!]

qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com

A few things have been left at the bar for people. With notes. Not very expressive notes, but notes.

( Mike and Bernard )

( Gren )

( Friends of Charlie Pace )

Though Darien himself heads straight into the infirmary after he drops them off.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin hasn't seen his brother for days. It's unusual, even since the cure, and it's starting to worry him. But for now, he's just out in the main bar with a coffee, keeping an eye out.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin... doesn't quite know what to do with himself now. His greatest work, the one thing he's wanted to do with his death, is done.

His brother is free, and that means he is too. Free from the one true obligation he had here, and while he's happy, and the thought it worked! still circles in his mind more often than not, he's at a bit of a loose end now.

There's still infirmary work, of course, but only regular shifts of it, and that leaves him with more free time than he's used to.

So, scientist in the bar with a beer.

qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com

He's the Invisible Man. That's TOTALLY why you haven't seen him around.

Totally.

It has nothing to do with getting licked by Bigfoot.

Totally.

That said: Agency agent at 3 o'clock lounging on a couch reading a philosophy magazine.

Current Music: Qntal - Rossinhol

dust-to-order.livejournal.com

The headache left, after that first night. She'd thought it might only be overdoing it with some of the shielding exercises, or perhaps her eyes were telling her to take a study break.
But it came right back like an annoying telemarketer, when she woke, and this time was worse. She felt as if a knife was jabbing through her skull and down her neck. Her stomach also turned rebellious. Pain, vomiting, double vision... It was hard for her to think clearly. Right. Out we go.

She made herself get up and walk downstairs from room 216, hand tight on the railing as she descended. Twice she stopped until her vision cleared. Not now, thanks, we'll pass out later, she thought fuzzily as she made her way toward the Infirmary entrance.
Friendly faces are welcome(or unfriendly for that matter), but be cautious of startling her. She's on edge, too, to say the least.

(eta: ~~mun has to go for about an hour, tags will be hit as soon as we're~~ Back!)

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin spent most of yesterday hiding in his room, hoping whatever this latest magical thing was would wear off.

It didn't. And a guy needs to eat. So, finally, he's ventured downstairs to get some food.

anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com

Today is a day like any other. The sun is shining, the birds are crapping on the heads of those unwary who venture outside beneath the trees, and there's a heaping portion of potent magical food set out for unsuspecting bar patrons.

The curry has bided its time.

And it has waited long enough.

It slops placidly within its enormous bowl. Beside it is jasmine rice; behind it is a dusty trickle of curry powder. The very suspicious might think that it looks like the curry is trying to send some of its powder into a nearby jug of water, but they're clearly delusional and paranoid.

The fact that the entire display might not be there when certain patrons look -- patrons who have had some experience with curry -- is just . . . a trick of the light.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin's been around. He almost always is. Where else does he have to go, after all, except occasional trips to Riva?

It's just that he's usually buried in his work in the infirmary. He's out and about tonight, though, with a Corona - no lime - and a sandwich.

Come say hi.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin has been around, really. He's just been in the infirmary a lot.

But he's out in the main bar now, with his killer-strength coffee, making an effort to be social.

Anyone want to help out with that?

dnaromantic.livejournal.com

"Sure, Nana Olaf, I'll just get it out of the pan ... try ..."

Greg Sanders wasn't expecting Milliways to pop up in the kitchen while helping to prepare Christmas Eve dinner, and he certainly doesn't look pleased about it now.

Because he was trying to cook, here.

But unlike some people, who can occasionally resist temptation and slam the door again, Greg's only been Bound once, and isn't afraid of it happening again as he shrugs and steps through the pantry door into the bar. (Hopefully no one was looking.) He wanders over to the observation window after getting himself a glass of water and a cookie from Bar and ... observes.

Why not. Exploding's always fun.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin's been around, but mostly in the infirmary, working hard.

He's out and about today, though, sitting at a table with a cup of coffee in front of him and an old scrapbook in his hand.

He likes to look through his memory collection, once in a while.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Asleep upstairs, Kevin gets a visitor

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin Fawkes does not like snakes. In fact, he's phobic to the point of panic, so being bitten by a copperhead in the bar itself...

He has no actual evidence that that wasn't the only snake around, but he's been barricading himself in the infirmary - or upstairs, when Guppy was quarantining himself in there - for a little while.

He's out and about today, but he's perched on a bar stool with his feet well above the floor. Just in case.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin's in the bar, reading a note he was just given with a frown.

It's not long before he glares at the infirmary door and goes off in search of Matilda.

Feel free to come talk to him while he looks.

lvpd_sidle

This isn't Sara's happy face.

Her happy face isn't going to be seen until Life stops targeting things, starting with her family.

But at any rate, she is drinking coffee and poking at a salad.

Eventually, she'll eat it.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is sitting by the infirmary, nose in one of a pile of books. He's looking somewhat concerned - hasn't found any leads on his latest case yet.

He's botherable - he's been sitting there for hours, and if you're a scientist he'd rather like to pick your brains. If not, well you still might know something he doesn't, or find yourself in possession of a cup of tea.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin is at a table, going over some experiment results.

Kevin does not know about snakes inna bar ~~yet~~.

He'd welcome company.

gone_byebye

[OOM: The Tour de Bronx may have to change their route this year.]

The door opens and Ray comes in- respectably dressed in clean civilian clothes and not smelling of anything weird or dripping anything unholy, for once. He does, however, look like he found half a bug in his Cheerios. "Bar," he says, "I could use some coffee and a good book on the history of the Sasquatch, please. Thank you."

The book's going to wait for a bit. His nerves need the coffee more.

dnaromantic.livejournal.com

The way Greg looks when he walks into Milliways is rather like he's been watching security tapes so long his eyes might start bleeding out of his face -- bleary and watery, that is -- and it's a pretty accurate assumption, considering, well, he's been watching security tapes so long his eyes feel like they might bleed out of his face.

"Coffee, if you would," he says blearily to Bar, and gets himself a seat at a table with his kindly provided Blue Hawaiian.

He likes to make it himself, but he's tired.

qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com

Darien's in the bar.

He's found a nice little corner near the fireplace and he's sucking down a coffee that he obviously hadn't gotten here. He's just come back from the Keep and...

A week or so more and he should be normal.

The scent of coffee mixed with the cloth of the couch is almost soothing in it's familiarity and he almost looks like he might be dozing. He's not, but he might look like it.

gone_byebye

[OOM: "What have you been DOING, Ray?"]

The door opens and a considerably more sober-faced than usual Ray walks in. Francis is at his heels, doing the best 'worried' impersonation that a robot dog with no visible facial features or tail can manage. "Bar?" Ray says. "Could I get some Ovaltine over here, and maybe something in the way of a guide to recognizing possible signs of brain injury? Thank you..."