Downstairs Upstairs Neighbours

Participants:

abby_icon.gif griffin_icon.gif marjorie_icon.gif

Scene Title Downstairs Upstairs Neighbours
Synopsis Abby pays Marjorie's place to drop off some money and a schedule and meets Griffin.
Date October 7, 2010

Le Rivage - Second Floor Hallway


She has to drop off Owain's money for walking Rhett, hoping that the boy and his mother might be home so she can drop off a schedule for Marjorie and see if it's okay with her or whether she needs less hours or more. Two envelopes in hand, the blonde dressed for heading off back to the shop after having to come back to the house when her tether started beeping and declaring it needed to charge. She's knocking on the door to Marjorie's place, messenger bag crosswise over shoulder, khaki shirt to her knees flats and the shop shirt under her leather jacket. The blocky GPS of course, snug around an ankle. Fingers run along the edge of the envelopes, sucking in on her lower lip as she waits.

The person who answers certainly isn't what Abby may have been expecting. Griffin Mihangle is still quite topless as he opens the door, a towel wrapped around his shoulders, his hair wet, while his dress slacks hang on his hips by his belt; he must have just gotten out of the shower. He's also a fellow who almost certainly works out, what with the large amount of muscle tone wrapped around his deceptively thin frame. He's also got a nasty red wound over his left rib cage, which has been very crudely stitched up, by someone who is more of a seamstress than a nurse, and there's some definite bruising over his right side.

He's still drying his hair as he peers down at the blonde, brows raised high enough to wrinkle his forehead. "Can I help you, miss…?" He tilts his head thoughtfully toward the woman.

You can't help but see chest first, taller than the whole whopping 5'7 that Abby is. That and the irritated red of skin and thread meant to hem pants, not hem flesh. "Oh, uhm" She looks to the side, averting her eyes from the half naked wet guy who has just answered the door. In an effort to make sure that she hadn't knocked on the wrong door. A glance tells her that no, no she hasn't. I uh, is Owain or Marjorie home? I had some things to drop off for them' The envelopes held up but not relinquished, keeping her gaze on the door.

Griffin tilts his head toward Abby, regarding her in silence with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Owain is at school," This is said with an almost protective air, "and Mack went to the store to get some more ingredients for her cupcakes." He smiles faintly, then. "I'm MacKenzie's brother, Griffin." He winces slightly as he extends his hand, aggravating those stitches that definitely weren't meant to hold flesh together.

There's no hand going to his, instead the envelopes are put in his palm instead of shaking it. "Abigail. Beauchamp. I live downstairs, Owain walks my dog and Marjorie, she uhh, she's supposed to come bake for me" Mack? A woman called Mack? And of course he's at school, Abby looks down to the cheap watch on her wrist, wincing at the time. Why she hadn't realized that, she didn't know. "There's uhh, forty dollars in there, and I'll still need him to come feed him too, I mean, if he still wants to do it."

Blue eyes dart to the stitches, then back away. "Who did the.. hack job…"

Griffin nods quietly. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Beauchamp. I don't actually live here, I just stopped by last night." He smiles faintly. "I'm glad Owain's gotten himself a job. He's a good kid." This is said almost…proudly. As if the boy is his own. Which…well, he is. As she draws attention to his stitches, he blinks down at them, and offers a faintly flustered look. "Oh, ah— Mackenzie did that last night. I…" He frowns faintly, suddenly fixing Abigail with an appraising look. "I can't exactly go to an emergency room, if you catch my drift." This is said with a faint edge. Try to turn me in and I'll have to hurt you…

'Somehow that doesn't surprise me given the bent of conversation that Marjorie and I had when we first met in the stairwell" There's a glance to her watch and down the hall, lips twisting as she seems to be trying to decide something. "Listen, I live downstairs a floor, and I'm an EMT. I can show you my licence and all if you like" She's digging into her bag for her wallet, the little card kept in there. "I have supplies, in my place, I can bring them down in you like and use the proper thread, fix that proper. I even have some drugs I can give you, for it"

Griffin nods quietly. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Beauchamp. I don't actually live here, I just stopped by last night." He smiles faintly. "I'm glad Owain's gotten himself a job. He's a good kid." This is said almost…proudly. As if the boy is his own. Which…well, he is. As she draws attention to his stitches, he blinks down at them, and offers a faintly flustered look. "Oh, ah— Mackenzie did that last night. I…" He frowns faintly, suddenly fixing Abigail with an appraising look. "I can't exactly go to an emergency room, if you catch my drift." This is said with a faint edge. Try to turn me in and I'll have to hurt you…

'Somehow that doesn't surprise me given the bent of conversation that Marjorie and I had when we first met in the stairwell" There's a glance to her watch and down the hall, lips twisting as she seems to be trying to decide something. "Listen, I live downstairs a floor, and I'm an EMT. I can show you my licence and all if you like" She's digging into her bag for her wallet, the little card kept in there. "I have supplies, in my place, I can bring them down in you like and use the proper thread, fix that proper. I even have some drugs I can give you, for it too, for infections and the like"

Returning from the store, Marjorie is laden with heavy bags of all sorts of naughty goodies. However, as she hears voices, and she hears her brother saying that he can't go to an emergency room, she comes up behind him. "Ah, Ms. Beauchamp," She says as she steps up beside the woman, spying her brother and giving him a look of concern. Not for his body, but for his mouth that seems to talk to everyone. "I'm so sorry, I was out. Hasn't Griffin invited you in? Please, I can put on some tea if you like." She looks up at Griffin, as if to explain. "Ms. Beauchamp is the owner of that dessert bar I told you about." And then she waits for him to move so she can carry all that stuff in.

Griffin blinks a few times, his brows raising high and wrinkling his forehead. "That— That would actually be wonderful, Miss Beauchamp." He smiles faintly. "I would really appreciate it." He smiles warmly, nodding to Abby. Then, as Marjorie makes her way up, the man reaches out, freeing the woman of her burden (with a slight wince as he uses muscles that he really shouldn't be using right now) and stepping back into the apartment to deposit them in the kitchen. "So you're the woman who has hired my little sister?" He calls this back to Abby. "Thanks."

Abby shifts quickly, moving to let Marjorie by with the groceries that she's picked up, shaking her head politely to her soon to be employee. "I haven't been here long enough for him to do more but introduce himself and tell me that you'd be along in a spell and for me to offer to stitch him up proper and such Marjorie, don't give him trouble. I was dropping off the dog sitting money for Owain and a schedule for you for next week" She still stands at the door though as they retreat. "I am. I tried a cupcake and I was hooked. I'm in need of some help, in case of some things happen in the near future. I'm gonna pop back to my place real quick and get my stuff" The wallet stuck back in her bag. "Don't let him use the side Marjorie, he's gonna pull the stitches"

"He knows he shouldn't be using anything. I'm fairly certain that I told you to sit still and watch Judge Judy while I was gone," Marjorie playfully teases her brother as she starts to put things away in the kitchen. It's a fairly easy, lazy process. "And it's only going to be a little bit, Griff. She offered and I figured that I enjoy baking, and I do it enough, it ought to add to my income. But the candle making and the piano are still my main jobs." She specifically avoids talking about Owain with Griffin here. "But that's very sweet of you to help with Griffin. Hopefully he won't have a need, but…well he lives in a rough part of town and…doesn't have health insurance." Sure, lets call it that.

Luckily, Griff was using his ability the moment he turned away to support the bag, which he sets on the counter. "Well, Miss Beauchamp, Marjorie is a master of her craft." He chuckles, his eyes fading to green once more before he turns to peer at Abby. "I appreciate your assistance." Then, he turns to Marjorie, smiling faintly. "Yeah…times are tough, you know. I have a new construction job, sis. We're fixing up the building I was staying in." Thank goodness he can still work, at least.

"You'd be amazed at the amount of people I know who don't have… health insurance" And with those words, Abigail's turned away from the door, heading back for the stairs and presumably to her place to get what she needs to set right Marjorie's sewing job on her house guest.

"Stick to that story," Marjorie hisses to her brother once she's made sure Abby's no longer close enough to hear. She continues putting things away though as she does - scolding one's brother does not mean that you should be idle! "She's friends with all sorts of policemen, Griffin, we don't need her getting any funny ideas. I think it's best if we reserve her services to really, really bad needs. If you get busted up every other week she'll get suspicious."

Griffin smiles faintly, nodding as he helps to put groceries away, his eyes glowing. It doesn't take long for the groceries to be put away when there are three extra pairs of hands assisting. "Roger, sis." He nods quietly. "Thanks for the warning…last thing I need is to be caught." He chuckles softly, picking up the bag containing the shirt he requested from his sister and peeking it over.

"Good," she says. "Particularly now that you've been seen here, and you're affiliated with me and Owain," She was never educated enough for the 'Owain and I' sort of thing. She closes the last cabinets, folding up the reusable bags and tucking them away in the pantry. "Also, she's engaged. Just in case you were, well. You know." She smirks a little, as a sister might.

Abigail's at the door, catching the tail end of Marjorie's warning about her being engaged to someone. "Married. Actually. He just gets home really late and I'm being a bit selfish and not wanting to quite share the news with the world yet while I get used to hearing someone call me Mrs. Caliban" The locked strongbox that looks like it could double as a tool box is in hand as well as a dop kit that holds all manner of other small things she might need. "But thanks for warning him off, I tend to collect hearts at an obscene rate and have to let them trail behind me broken hearted till they find someone else. An Italian once warned me about that."

Griffin laughs faintly. "I have eyes for an Egyptian beauty, in any case, so I won't be trying anything funny." He chuckles. "Well, congratulations, Mrs. Caliban. You don't have to worry about anything from me." He chuckles softly, his eyes fading back to green by the time he finally looks to Abby. "You won't be breaking my heart." His eyes find the contents of Abby's conquest downstairs, brows raising. "That's quite the setup you have there."

Marjorie nods. She pulls her jacket back on. "Well I'll leave it in your very capable hands, Mrs. Caliban. I have to go pick up Owain from school. It won't be a very long process, will it? If it's alright, I'd like to not have Griffin being stitched up when Owain gets back. IT would just be a little…weird to see." Not that theirs is a conventional family, but Marjorie is determined to make Owain's life as normal as possible.

"I'm an EMT and I know a few folks who lack, like I said earlier, health insurance too. I promise, you won't feel a thing after I numb the area and you can pop downstairs, for me to take em out in a couple weeks. " How long will it take? "Uhh… " Abby digs into a pocket, brings out a ten and holds it out. "Take him out for some hot chocolate. I'm by no means an expert I got friends who can stitch faster than me and far better but my gentle hand takes maybe a bit more time than you got"

Griffin settles into the chair, resting his arms across the back to give Abigail a clear shot at the wound in his side. At Abby's suggestion, he pulls out a $50, pushing it toward his sister. "Get him a new toy. No need to return the change." He smiles faintly over to his sister with that look that implies that he will not take no for an answer. Then, he glances to Abby. "Alright, let's get to work on this."

"No," Marjorie says, sliding the bill back toward Griffin. "You remember the rules. Until I see some results, this is not happening." She turns her green eyes to Abby, smiling that sweet, lipsticky smile once again. "Thank you again Ms. Beauchamp. You have my permission to cuff him upside the head if he wiggles too much." She picks up her purse, wraps a scarf about her neck and shoulders and heads for the door.

"If he needs it" Abigail offers a smile to Marjorie, watching her walk off before she's heading over to where Griffin has parked himself. "Y'all quarrel like a married couple" She's digging up a chair to sit, her keyring unlocking the chest so she can pull out what she needs from her personal Ferry supply. She sets in then, to getting what's needed to numb the area before she'll even touch the old stitches to put in new ones, clean it properly. "Lots of stinging, but when it's over, you won't feel a thing."

Griffin slides the bill back to Marjorie, a warm smile on his face. "Got a real job, fixing up the place I'm living. You can't say no now, especially if you swing by the place later." He smiles faintly after his sister. Once he's sure Majorie's back is turned and Abigail's attention is on the kit, he closes his eyes for a moment to conceal the flash of bluish-white that conceals his green eyes…and the bill promptly deposits itself in Marjorie's purse.

His eyes are green when he turns back to Abigail, smiling. "I am in your capable hands, Mrs. Caliban. Do what you must." He chuckles softly, though he pre-emptively grips the back for the chair, resting his head on his arms.


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