Participants:
| Scene Title | First for Everything |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Graeme drops by Ygraine's apartment before he goes to work. With breakfast. There's a first for everything. |
| Date | March 4, 2011 |
Le Rivage: Ygraine's Apartment
This early in the morning, it's perhaps no surprise that there's something of a delay before the door is answered - but when the rattling of multiple sets of chains and bolts being slid aside has been completed and the portal swings open, music spills out, accompanied by a smell of real coffee.
That said, though she clearly wasn't woken by Graeme's arrival, Ygraine doesn't exactly look as if she's set to receive many visitors. Loose, draw-string exercise pants and a baggily sleeveless top are worn with her sturdy sling, leaving exposed the tight, sharp lines of muscle and bones across her shoulders and neck.
Offering the man a wearily warm smile of welcome - that slightly softens the visible tension around her eyes - she steps back and aside, using her head to gesture him inside.
Graeme steps in, setting his skateboard by the door, and shifting so that the two bags of food he bears are now one in either hand. "I got pretty much everything they offered for breakfast," he says, with a bit of a grin. "Have whatever you want from it, I'll likely eat the rest, and whatever's left, keep so you have easy lunch today." Once the door is shut behind him, Graeme looks over Ygraine, a hint of a frown on his face. Maybe it's a good thing that he brought so much over for breakfast. He glances towards the kitchen. "Mm, coffee."
Ygraine looks somewhat stunned to discover that the bags are for her, at least in large part. "I… wow. I'd have been quite happy offering you foraging rights in the kitchen, you know", she says softly, sounding distinctly amused as she busies herself with restoring the security behind Graeme.
"But an extra pair of hands for sorting the coffee will be welcome. I'm still adjusting to playing with boiling liquid with only one hand available…"
Graeme grins a bit more. "I brought breakfast, it's the least I can do," he says, words a slow drawl that reveal that he's probably not all the way awake yet either. "Trust me, if you offered me foraging rights, you wouldn't have any food left when I leave." And it's probably true, judging by the amount of food that is laid out onto the table, all variety of foods generally seen for breakfast, eggs, bacon, potatoes, sausage, and a fair variety of sweet foods as well. It looks like more than any two people could eat.
"Heightened metabolism?", Ygraine asks curiously. "And I'm sure I could fill you up with high-calorie energy bars, if need be. I've got boxes of the things in here, though I'm trying to avoid them at the moment. Eat more… constructive food while I try to recuperate."
Padding through to the kitchenette, she delves into the fridge and cupboards, sorting out the secondary accoutrements for the coffee. "Care for a fruit juice of some sort? I've got a few varieties, so feel free to help yourself. Or you can squeeze oranges yourself, if you really want to go the whole hog."
"Three or four times that of a normal adult male," Graeme admits, with a grin, watching, prepared to step in and pour the coffee. "And no, coffee sounds good, really." After pouring both cups of coffee, he picks up his own, cradling it in his hands. "Plus, really. Breakfast's no trouble." He offers Ygraine a smile, albeit a tired one, setting his coffee down on the table next to the assortment of food. "Plates? Or there're paper ones in the bag, I think."
Ygraine waves grandly to a couple of the cupboards. "Plates, bowls, whatever you need. Feel free to rummage. Cutlery's in there, and proper cloth napkins I'll get from in here, since you're making this something of an event…."
"So…", she muses, looking up at Graeme as she heads for the table - one napkin held in her hand and the other simply stuck to the back of it - "to what do I owe this unexpected feast?"
Graeme tilts his head to one side, even as he gets down two plates, two bowls, and retrieves an assortment of cutlery. Then he shrugs, quietly pondering as he piles still-steaming eggs and bacon and some sort of other meat onto his plate, as well as about half the container of sausage. "The school I'm subbing at today is near here," he explains. "I figured it was better than eating breakfast alone." He sets his now full plate of food next to his coffee, pushing some of the containers towards the middle of the table, then sitting down.
Having just set down the napkins, then claimed a seat for herself, Ygraine offers Graeme a rather odd, lingering look… then ducks her head, a slight smile curling her lips. One shoulder lifts in a carefully lopsided and rather bashful shrug.
"Thank you. It's… I'm not sure that anyone has ever just… dropped in to feed me before. I hardly know what to say."
Before he speaks again, Graeme has set about finishing one of the breakfast sausages, and beginning to devour another. Apparently, his rate of consuming food is approximately equal to his appetite. "Well," he says, putting down his fork in order to pick up his coffee, "firsts for everything." There's a pause. "I spent a long time in New Mexico, and while they might have been bigoted bastards much of the time, there's a certain hospitality y' just don't find in New York. It includes dropping in t' feed your friends breakfast."
"Pardon my rather indelicate approach to all this", Ygraine murmurs, dryly very British for a moment - before demonstrating that her process for tackling much of her breakfast will employ the simple expedient of spearing something whole on the end of fork, and eating it from there.
"I… it's appreciated. That you thought of me. And that you count me as a friend", she informs her guest and benefactor, after finishing her first sausage. "It's… very welcome indeed."
Graeme smiles. "You're welcome." There's a bit of amusement at Ygraine's method of eating. "It would seem that works." Graeme at least does use both his fork and knife, but it's nothing that could be called delicate, or that would pass in 'polite company', if only due to the fact that one might think he's inhaling his food.
Ygraine does observe that process with a certain amount of amusement, but attempts to keep most of her attention upon her own plate - and on trying to ensure that she doesn't drop a sausage into her coffee, or anything of the sort.
"So…", she starts, once it looks as if the intake of food from the far side of the table might be starting to slow a little, "how are you doing?"
The question gives Graeme pause, and he picks up his coffee once again while he considers the answer. "I've been worse," he finally says. "Keeping myself busy. Work, and then work, and such. It helps, as much as anything does." He quirks one eyebrow upward, the last pieces of egg finding their way to his mouth. "Things are … tense." That's an easy way to put it. "But there's good, and I really can't complain." He looks across the table. "You?"
Ygraine leans over, activating a probably-familiar little box on the table, a green LED lighting up on its side. "You can talk freely, if you want", she murmurs. "And… for me? Pretty bad, in all honesty. Had… one of the very few people I'd have called a friend demonstrate that… I was rather sorely mistaken. Hence, in part, being so… so touched by this."
Graeme nods, with a minor wince at that. "I'm sorry," he says, quiet. "That sucks th' big one." He doesn't mention that he's possibly seen said other parties involved. In fact, it just makes him determined to be neutral in this, hard as that may end up being.
The slight silence continues for a bit, as Graeme piles most of the remaining sausage and bacon onto his plate. "I talked with my sister a it. More like fought. Ran into her in a store." He lets out a slight sigh, staring past Ygraine. "I'm not sure if I'm still worried about …" he bites his lip, still largely unable to force himself to say it, despite the time he's had to accept the fact, "or something else entirely."
Graeme's distinctly awkward response to her words did not go unnoticed, and Ygraine was looking at him markedly quizzically even before he moved onto the topic of his Humanis sister. "What… what else might you be worried about?", she asks gently. Trouble that can trump a terrorist sympathiser in the family certainly puts on hold her own concerns, for the time being.
"Keira," Graeme responds. "She said she … couldn't tell them," and them is obvious, "about me, said she wouldn't, that she needed more time, but." There's another pause for Graeme to work on the food in front of him.
"'s a kid I know," he says, "came an' asked me for help, but … I'm not sure what I can do for her. Problems with registration, and papers, and she seems to be a decently good kid." He shrugs, picking up his coffee. "Except, she's staying with people who aren't her legal guardians, and I still haven't figured out if there's anything I can do, but she turned to me."
Ygraine's brows go up slightly, and she cocks her head. "Well, you might recall that I've made enquiries with regard to the legalities surrounding registration myself", she says dryly. "I can't promise to help, but I could certainly try. If you were willing to refer her to me. Or I could give you the names for some of the more sympathetic lawyers I spoke to…."
Graeme nods. "She … I think she wants to Register, but the problem so far is the lack of guardianship and lack of school enrollment," he says, quietly. "I know … vaguely who she's staying with, though not where, and though from what I can tell, they're good people, having people whose faces are on wanted posters for guardians isn't going to help her get Registered." There's a pause, with a slightly discontent noise. "And well … she's expressed a pretty distinct desire not to end up a ward of the state. Which puts me in a position that I don't know what to do about it."
"There've been a couple of high-profile cases in the not-too-distant past, in this very city", Ygraine muses. "The state tends to want to be sure that the minor is placed with family as a first option, and only then looks at alternatives. But there might be options, especially if a lawyer is already in place to assist. Seriously - put her in touch with me if you feel able, or I can give you those contact details."
"I'll see what she says," Graeme says, "and those contact details would be useful." There's a pause. "I don't know if she even has any family. If she does, she sure as hell doesn't mention it." He takes a sip of the coffee, practically emptying the cup, and glances at his cell phone.
"I hate to eat and run, but I should be at the school in about twenty minutes." Graeme offers Ygraine a smile as he rises to his feet. "Take care of yourself, an' I'll see you soon."
"In my limited experience… that makes it more likely there's actually someone out there who might be able to try to claim her", Ygraine says ruefully. "You avoid mentioning what you want to avoid having people look at. That might be because it's a matter of painful memories, or…."
She shrugs slightly, offering Graeme a wry smile, though there's nervousness behind the light-hearted tone of the words that follow. "Come back again when you have time to enjoy a proper coffee. And I'll try to find out what else is bothering you."
"Yeah," Graeme says. His focus is on something beyond where he currently is, as he gives Ygraine a very gentle half-hug before picking up his cell phone, and then his skateboard, and letting himself out.
That hug comes as even more of a surprise than the breakfast, but after a moment she tentatively returns it - a half-hug as much as she can presently manage, of course. Looking surprised, plexed, and somewhat concerned, she watches him go… then secures the door behind him and turns back to contemplate the remains of the feast.