Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Sept 29, 2014 6:18:21 GMT -8
Well it's not that he doesn't have table manners, it's just that they're not equipped for a five course dinner with 20 pieces of silverware, and he slurps his soup. But yes, fine dining, much derping. It should be awesome! I'd like to think that after extensive awkwardness they'd be able to find some common ground with looking after difficult youngsters, it's probably about all they'd have in common.
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Sept 17, 2014 0:39:13 GMT -8
For the sake of all the countries' naming confusion that's out there we should plot!
I don't really care how it goes, psychiatry appt, vet appt (does Roddy own a cat at all), blind date, chance meeting at MI6. Anything that happens when the party boy and the bush baby attempt interaction will undoubtedly be hilarious.
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Sept 14, 2014 21:11:59 GMT -8
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Sept 11, 2014 4:50:56 GMT -8
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Sept 11, 2014 4:46:04 GMT -8
His sigh of relief when Westley returned the gun to Nesia’s hands was audible. Sheep and guns was not a nice combination. Then he sneezed and turned his head away to avoid spraying anyone. It occurred to Kyle that he had been out of the river for several minutes now, and was still a shivering mass of water and wetsuit. If he didn’t get into dry clothes and out of the cold soon he’d be getting hyperthermia and would be at the mercy of kiwi’s infamous nursing skills. It wasn’t that Wes wasn’t an attentive caregiver, far from it, but he did have a bad tendency to catch whatever you were sickening of and thus the nursed would become the nurser, often while they were still sick. Already the kiwi was looking a little off colour (though that was normal for him).
“Can we talk for a second please”
“Yeah sure, whaaa?” Kyle was dragged away by his elbow ‘and when had Nesia gotten that strong? Last time they’d met she could barely carry a shopping basket’ to where they could be seen but not overheard (at least not by his cousin).
“I was chased when I fell” Nesia informed him. Kyle’s eyes widened and he glanced around their surroundings but resisted turning his head to look as this would have made his actions obvious to anybody who might be watching (he’d learnt a thing or two about subtlety by talking with the agents that visited the lab). Nesia quickly filled him in on what their situation was and what the risks could be if they went to his place.
Kyle thought about their options. HQ would definitely be safer, but taking Westley there? Not to mention the a complete lack of woolly jumpers and others spare clothes. And to be honest, he really just wanted to curl up on his own couch with a mug of hot milo and a takeaway, not having to explain things and fill out a bucket load of paperwork.
If they went somewhere crowded first (the agents always said to head to a crowded place if you were being chased) then they could probably shake off any followers that hadn’t been specially trained. “We’ll catch a cab to the train station” he decided “Then you and I can change out of our wet things and Wes can pick up food. Then we’ll get another cab to my place. Does that sound alright to you?” He deferred to Nesia here, she was the Agent after all and had probably been better trained in these scenarios then he had
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Sept 7, 2014 20:04:22 GMT -8
{Spoiler}  {Spoiler}  {Spoiler}  I live more or less in the middle of nowhere, but we do have some nice views. |
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Aug 28, 2014 5:27:14 GMT -8
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Aug 25, 2014 4:55:54 GMT -8
There was something to be said for not accepting dares. Something that Kyle had probably been asleep or otherwise distracted when it was said. Because why else would he be sitting by himself at a quintessential ‘ye olde’ English gay bar by himself with a bucket on his head? And he wasn't just wearing it on top of his head, oh no, he had gone to considerable lengths to create an eye slit to see out of (his soldering iron would probably never recover) because the bucket was meant to literally be "on" his head. Kyle sipped his beer through a straw (he wasn't allow to take the bucket off until he left the pub) and grumbled silently to himself.
It was all Westley’s fault. If he hadn't accepted the kid’s bet on the outcome of the Wallabies vs All Blacks rugby match, then he wouldn't have betted on the Wallabies (patriotic pride and all that crap). Then, when the Wallabies had inevitably lost, he wouldn't have had to go through with his cousin’s stupid dare, going to bar dressed as Ned Kelly. And to be Ned Kelly you needed bucket on your head. In hindsight he could see that he had been set up, but that didn't stop the Australian from blaming his Kiwi relative. Kyle was never very good at being fair when he lost a game, and even less so when he’d lost a bet along with it.
So here he was. Sulking in a pub with his bucket and his koala until he had enough face (and alcohol intake) to go home and greet his triumphant cousin, who was undoubtedly radiating smugness at this very moment while he shared a victorious cup of apple mint tea with his Ovine boyfriend. Actually, that was probably the one and only good thing about being in the pub right now. Kyle did not want to be present once those two started getting intimate.
“Ah, such is life.” Kyle quoted Kelly’s last words to himself as he sucked up the last of his beer. The words echoed in his ears with a strange tinny quality to them, it made him sound like a robot or possibly an alien, a metallic alien, with an Aussie accent.
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Aug 17, 2014 7:11:52 GMT -8
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Aug 17, 2014 6:54:55 GMT -8
Kyle was watching Nesia very carefully. He needed to judge her reaction to the revelation that they had a common allegiance to MI6, and from there determine how they would go about disguising that fact. At least he would have watched her carefully...for directly after he had spoken the scene was invaded by a koala, a sheep and a kiwi, and they had something of a tendency to hog the limelight.
Daffy went straight over to Nesia and started chewing on her hair. Well fair enough, she did have longer hair than the cousins combined. But even so, having your locks grazed upon probably didn’t feel very nice if you weren’t used to it. Matilda was staring at him coldly, passive aggressive treatment for being the soaking shivering mess that he was and not the satisfactory roost that she required. Wes was…fussing. There really wasn’t any other word for it. Phrases like “Why did you do that?” and “If your Mum heard she would yell at you" only confirmed it.
Westley obviously had no idea what the gun signified, for this Kyle was very grateful, but that did not stop it being any less alarming when he plucked the gun neatly out of Nesia’s hands. Then when he stuffed the weapon down his bikini top Kyle momentarily froze, half expecting to hear a bang and the sound of his cousin’s innards spilling on the ground. It was only when Wes rounded his gaze on him that he started again. Those eyes, so much like his own, were gazing at him with a dreadful mixture of anger, fear and relief.
“You’re a fucking moron” he informed Kyle, then he collapsed into his arms and (just for a moment) buried his face in his neck, the way he used to before they became too cool for open displays of affection.
“I know, I’m sorry” Kyle murmured in his ear as he returned the hug. Wes was right, he been an idiot. They both knew what happened to people who tried to be thoughtless heroes by jumping into deeper water without any concerns of safety. Both of them had been warned by their mothers, as had every other child that had grown up in their countries. It was one of the reasons why Australia and New Zealand had such low drowning rates for their populations. To go against it was unthinkable, not that Kyle’d had much time to think when he was out there. He dried his hair apologetically while he was alternatively scolded and questioned.
“Home I think, not serious enough for a hospital. And we have all those woolly blankets.” Plus their superiors would find out if they went to the hospital and then there would be trouble. “We can get take out, have you ever tried Indonesian curry? It’s good. I ate tons of it in my gap year. And we’ll open a new box of chocolate covered pineapple chunks”. Kyle must have said the right thing, because he was then presented with Matilda and she settled herself comfortably on his shoulder once again.
He looked again at Nesia. How had she become an agent he wondered? Why was she in the river in the first place? How classified was that information? So many questions he couldn’t ask. But there was one thing she could say. Once she’d pushed Daffy away she looked back at him at spoke “I guess you do know what I am, Kyle” That was all that he needed to know. ”And, please…return my gun"
Nodding grimly he turned back to Wes who still had a highly dangerous MI6 weapon stuffed down his front. “Wes you can give the water pistol back to Nesia now, she’s playing assassins and needs it to shoot at other players.” Surreptitiously he winked at his fellow MI6 worker. How was that a plausible cover story?
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Jul 28, 2014 14:37:56 GMT -8
Watching the Kiwi trot elegantly around the bar atop his noble sheep was nothing if not funny and Kyle found himself snorting into his beer and almost suffering a coughing fit as a result. There were a few others watching the spectacle and muffled chuckles could be heard around the room beneath the singing and the chatting. The barman in the corner looked a little uncomfortable but didn’t intervene, no trouble was being caused and the sight was rather sweet. That is, until Wes and Daffy had a uh, mild confrontation.
Well, is was actually a pretty serious confrontation. Dafydd ate some guy’s wallet. Damn that sheep.
The man in question was bloodshot and beefy and had a bad case of heart-disease-just-waiting-to-happen going around his middle. He probably had a pitbull at home, an untrained and unexercised pitbull. Before heart disease man worked out to coordination to belt his cousin over the head Kyle wrenched what was left of the half-chewed wallet and handed it back. Apologises (and possibly another drink) were badly needed here
“Sorry ‘bout that mate. I think your credit cards are still intact, even if the wallet’s crook. Nice wallet, but, would you like a-”
“And you’ll be paying for m’wallet as well”
“Ah”
Now when Kyle looked at the wallet he could see how nice it really was. Seriously? Who needed a wallet with an inbuilt nail care system anyway? Accessories aside it was worth way more than what Kyle had to his name.
Had he been sober (and possibly American) Kyle might have tried to argue it out with the man. As it was…he winged it.
“Uh sure. Alright then.” The man’s eyes widened, clearly he’d been expecting more of a fight. Kyle reached for his wallet with one hand and picked up Matilda with the other. “Hold the koala would ya? Cheers.” The man now had an unanticipated lapful of fluffy wriggling marsupial, with claws. Matilda knew what to do and climbed unmercifully up the man’s shirt, keeping him distracted with the pain while Kyle dragged Daffy and his rider over to the exit.
They were barely halfway across the room the man realised what they were doing and stood upright with a shout “Oi!”
Knowing that he and his cousin were inches away from becoming minced, Kyle said the first thing that came to his head.
“Working hard to make a living!*” He yelled out loud enough to be heard from all four corners of the bar.
Every Aussie in the room (and the room was full of Aussies it being ANZAC day) stood up and answered the call. “Bringing shelter from the rain!”
Good old Barnes, his songs worked better than the national anthem. By the time they got to “Oh oh oh he’s a working class man!” Wes, Daffy and himself were out of sight behind the crowd of bar goers signing loud and proud. By the time the wallet man had fought his way through they were outside and walking around the corner.
Kyle’s hands were shaking with the rush of having successfully done a runner. "Wait a sec." They leaned against the brick wall until the sound of Matilda's claws clicking against the pavement signalled that she had caught up with them. "This is the last time I'm ever taking you to a bar Wes. Until Christmas."
*Note: No this isn't some mythical chant to summon every nearby Australian to your aid, it's just a really good song.
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Jul 22, 2014 20:35:50 GMT -8
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Jul 22, 2014 20:25:23 GMT -8
To be honest, Kyle had hoped to keep his acquisition of Dafydd quiet, partly because he did not want people to ask how he had acquired him (he did not want other people to start using his sources because higher powers might be forced to take notice), and partly because he thought that his cousin Wes might like the sheep and he wanted to keep it a secret for Christmas. However Cerys had a way of talking things out of you, something that Kyle had been warned about but hadn’t taken seriously until now. She knew about Dafydd, somehow, but with any luck Wes wouldn’t hear until Xmas morning, fingers crossed.
Speaking of Dafydd he was lapping up the attention that Cerys was lavishing upon him. Kyle could see his little white tail wagging in pleasure when she patted him, similar to a puppy’s, he’d probably start rolling onto his back in a minute. Wes had a similar gift with sheep and that made the Australian inclined to accept Cerys presence, besides he could do with her help “Yeah he’s hungry” Kyle agreed with the Welsh girl’s observation “And the hay I have for him upstairs is much tastier than the phonebook. Are you any good at herding Cerys? Dafydd is a pretty slippery sheep.”
While it probably would have been more productive test the listening devices straight away and get it over and done with. Kyle felt that Dafydd would be more inclined to cooperate if he had some time to kick back his hoofs and relax for a bit. In that way the sheep really was like his cousin. Westley’s annoyance levels directly correlated with how hungry he was. Letting the sheep have a rest and a feed would be much better for them all in the long run.
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Jul 1, 2014 5:45:11 GMT -8
|
|
Offline
Sept 21, 2015 4:13:53 GMT -8
Tag me @ozzie
|
|
Post by Kyle Kirkland on Jul 1, 2014 5:40:45 GMT -8
Kyle could now see why rescuing someone directly from the water was not recommended. The extra water resistance, keeping yourself and the other person afloat, trying not to grope anywhere you weren’t meant to. It was utterly exhausting! Eventually he settled for a sort of moderated backstroke with only one arm so as to keep the other around the woman’s shoulders. But even this was less than efficient. Swimming is all about conservation of energy, less means more, make each stroke count. But when towing a whole other person along Kyle found he was splashing around excessively just to keep the two of them afloat. Thankfully he only had a few meters to go.
The little piece of ground he was aiming for was fortunately not that high from the water level. It was the way that Kyle probably would have entered the river if diving off the bridge were not so much more fun. Together they made it to the bank and sat there for a while coughing up what felt like half the Thames. Now that he was out of the insulating warmth of the water Kyle felt himself start to shiver and the woman he had just saved was in no better condition, her naturally sun warmed skin was much paler than it should have been and she had not bothered to push back the long dark hair that was mattered across her mouth and face. The fact that she was still bringing up water would not have made this a pleasant feeling.
Rolling unsteadily onto his knees Kyle began tucking the woman’s hair away from her face and delivering clinical first aid information through chattering teeth. “That-t water was not much ab-bove freezing temperature. You’ll have t-to change out of your wet things as q-quickly as possible. My cousin and I can t-take you…” He faltered in speech when he recognised the features of the women. Her lips were blue and her face was pale but there was no mistaking her eyes, dark and wondrous.
“Nesia?”
Of all the people that he could have saved from drowning it was the girl that he had only met once and yet would be the first person he’d invite to a milk bar for a sundae. Kyle’s brain, which was usually very reliable in high pressure situations, shut down completely and his mouth took over the thinking. “What the hell were you doing in the river, in a tracksuit? No don’t answer that. Why weren’t you swimming? Oh right, not many people in Indonesia can swim right? You shouldn’t go into deep water if you can’t…You might’ve…” He shut his mouth. Clearly his mindless babble was alarming her and that was the last thing he wanted to do. “Look we need to get you into some dry clothes, before you freeze. You can have the spare ones that Kiwi brought for me. D-do you mind if I take your jacket?”
After waiting for a nod that might have been permission but was probably just shivering Kyle tugged down the zipper of Nesia’s jacket and to his utter surprise a very familiar gun tumbled out. Before joining MI6 Kyle had known as much about guns as the average Australian (nothing whatsoever) but since coming to London he had learnt to recognise the kind of guns the agents usually took with them on missions. They were special, having been created in part by the redhead that ruled the spy lab. This gun was unmistakably one of them.
Kyle’s brain finally kicked into gear again. The gun would have to be concealed before every Lawless in the city swooped down on them. And Kyle would have to reveal his own history, just enough so Nesia wouldn’t suspect him. He picked up the gun and handed it back to the girl. “I know what you are. I-I’m a Researcher, for Q.”
|
|
