Kevin Ford (bad_touch) wrote in academy_x, @ 2010-03-19 16:20:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | mirage, wither |
Who: Kevin and Dani Moonstar
When: Friday afternoon
Where: The garage, where else?
What: He doesn't get his spring break trip to the scrap yard for parts, so he's moping. This is par for course, really.
It wasn't like he was disappointed or anything about Remy being grounded and having to postpone the trip to the scrap yard. After all, if anyone had not caring down to a fine art, it was Kevin Ford. Nothing could really bother him because he was the least interested person on the planet. So all that was settled and he was not disappointed. He hadn't even been looking forward to it that much.
There was really no reason for Kevin to be tinkering in the garage, except that people were coming back from their spring break trips and the mansion was getting loud and full and annoying again. The quiet of the past couple days had been nice, and he was going to miss it. At least he could always come out to his own work space to be alone; if the metallic smell and the noise didn't scare people off, at least he had headphones and a dark visor handy, so he could plausibly pretend he didn't notice anyone who came out here.
He was soldering today, hunched over the tiny clockwork parts on his workbench like a brown-haired vulture, wearing his protective shades and his headphones blasting classic rock into his ears. No gloves, right now, and that was just about the best feeling ever. Sometimes he felt like he spent his life with gloves on, and while there was a very good reason for that, it really sucked not to be able to touch things with his skin, get his hands dirty and really feel things and all. This was okay, though, all metal and plastic bits, nothing he had to worry about destroying. Kevin was making jewelry, not really his usual thing, but this was going to be a necklace when he finished it. He'd seen something like it online, some steampunky artwork, and been inspired to try his hand at something much smaller than his usual stuff. If it turned out pretty, he'd give it to somebody: Rogue, probably, or maybe Paige since she'd thought his stuff was okay, or even Laurie, which he could probably work up the courage to do if he did it anonymously, just slipped it under her door one day. That might work. He had to finish it first, though, so he bent over his workspace, squinting at the little parts, concentrating so hard he wouldn't have heard anyone come up behind him even without the headphones.