I'll Pass It On


graeme_icon.gif quinn_icon.gif

Scene Title I'll Pass It On
Synopsis Graeme comes by Le Rivage looking for one woman, and finds another.
Date February 9, 2011

Le Rivage: Ygraine's Apartment

Knock. It's morning, and Graeme has found the apartment number that was written on the piece of paper he'd found under his coffee cup. Some things have come up, and it's taken him a little longer than he actually wanted to in order to come, but he's here. Hopefully, not too early, but the only thing he can do is try, and this is the time he'd had in order to do it.

"Miss FitzRoy?" A man's voice, with a bit of a southwestern drawl. "Excuse me?"

It's not Ygraine FitzRoy that pads across the floor inside the apartment - but rather Robyn Quinn, having stopped by just a few minutes ago to make sure everything was still in one piece while Ygraine is stuck within a certain bubble that will remmain unnamed for the moment. But the knock on the door catches her incredibly off gaurd, practically yelping as she jumps. Attempting to regain some composure, she takes an wary look at the door, before walking to it and looking out the doorknob. Doesn't- look like anyone threatening, so some of the security is undone and the door opened a crack.

"May I ask whos asking? the Irish accented voice comes from the other end, as if this were a phone conversation.

"Hi, sorry about the early hour," Graeme chuckles slightly. "My name's Graeme." He leans a bit on the wall next to the door. "Graeme Cormac." He fishes in his pocket for the piece of paper with the address on it. "Someone left me a piece of paper, with this address on it, and…"

Quinn wrinkles her nose. That's… not really that good sounding. But it could have been someone with the Ferry, for all she knows. So, the door opens a bit more, and Quinn steps half way out into the hall, offering a smile. "Graeme?" she repeats with a smile. "I'm… afraid she's not around at the moment. Is there a message I can take for her?"

Graeme frowns slightly, before favouring Quinn with a smile. An actual, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. "I don't know, really," he responds. "I don't even know why I was given this name and address, I never saw the person who left it under my coffee cup." He pauses, obviously not too sure about everything. "But I was… The paper says liberty, if that means anything to you."

Liberty does mean something to Quinn, and it's a bit of a relief that he says that and not "Ferry". She looks at him for a moment, before opening the door a bit more and inviting him in. "Ygraine's stuck in the Dome at the moment, I'm afraid," she explains. "Liberty is…" she tilts her head looking back at Graeme with a curious expression. "Who left you the piece of paper?" she asks curiously, head tilted a bit. "Liberty is a Evolved Equal Rights Campaign, to put it simply."

Graeme ducks a nod, following her in, shrugging off the black peacoat that he'd had on and draping it over his arm. "Like I said, I don't know, really," he says. "There was some lady collapsed in the street," he continues. "I'd put my coffee cup down to go help, when I got back there was the paper, and …"

He pauses once again. "And a card for the Deveaux Group." He nods, consideration of what she says. "Interesting. I'm a bit new in town," he admits. "But Evolved equal rights and stuff is definitely something I believe in, and can get behind." Graeme glances back at the door, and the next time he speaks is a bit quieter. "I lost my job in New Mexico due to Humanis First bigoted bullshit and influence. A couple times, really."

"The what group?" Quinn replies with a quirked eyebrow. "Never heard of them…" She wrinkles her nose a bit, opening the door a bit more to allow Graeme in. "Try not t' touch too much?" the musician asks with a bit of a laugh. "I- Ygraine is a big part of Liberty, but… she's not the most public about it. Adelaide Naimarc is the chair, if I'm not mistaken. Whoever gave you her name…" That doesn't really bode that well.

Making her way over to her bag, she pulls out an iPad, typing across it for several moments, before she brings it to Graeme and hands it to him. "Here's the website, if you'd like to read up.

Once more, Graeme nods, and though he finds somewhere to stand comfortably, he doesn't actually touch anything. Instead, he takes the iPad, cradling it in one arm, and flicks through the page, face blank as he reads, and nods a few times. "I wish I knew who did," he says. "I really wish I did; I'm trying to contact them, too, on the advice of a friend of mine."

He reads through the page another time, then hands the iPad back. "I'm not terrible much of a politician. I was a coach, and a teacher, and I have a degree in sociology, but that's pretty much it." He purses his lips, confused to some degree. "I wish I knew who gave me the name. And why."

"I… really can't help you there, I'm afraid," Quinn replies with a bit of a frown and a shake of her head. "But really, Liberty needs allt he hell it can get in just about any form. Donations, publicity, people helping out…" She rolls her shoulders a bit, smiling at Graeme. "Politics aren't really my strong suit either." There's a moment of pause, before she turns and offers a hand to Graeme. "Robyn Quinn, by the by, sorry for not introducin' m'self sooner."

Graeme nods, with a firm handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Quinn." He's thoughtful. "It sounds like it does, yeah," he says, lips narrowing slightly though the smile doesn't at all disappear. He does shake his head. "Maybe if at some point, you could ask Ygraine if she … if she knows why I got the piece of paper, who it might have come from?" Graeme seems to be at a bit of a loss as to what to say, for the moment.

"I doubt she does, unfortunately." Quinn shakes her head, leaning back a bit. "Last I heard, Liberty was still hurting for support. It's still very small, an' I don't know anyone else involved that would just leave a peice of paper." She sighs a bit, taping her fingers on her iPad. "I don't really know the inner workings, though, I'm not- really involved in Liberty. What I can do is give you her phone number, an' yours t' her the next time I talk t' her. See who reaches who first. She still has a working phone in the Dome."

Once more, the man nods, running his hand through hair, that by virtue of a short, nearly military haircut is too short to get in his way anyway. Then he turns his jacket over, reaching into a pocket, and pulling out a card to offer over. "It's uh… the phone number's probably the only thing valid about the info anymore. But yeah, I'd appreciate it." He pauses. "I suppose I can add you an' Ygraine to the list of folk I'll get to tell when I do find out." The hint of a drawl in his voice makes the sentence last longer than the equivalent would, from a more typical New Yorker.

"Tell when wha?" Quinn blinks, like she missed some part of the conversation all of a sudden. "An' sure, I don't mind. She'll really appreciate any help you can provide, even if it's just puttin' some flyers up, you know?" She smiles, making her way back over to her bag, pulling out a piece of paper - a flyer of her own, advertising an upcoming concert. She flips it over, writing her own phone numebr down. "There. An' feel free t' come t' that if you can. I'll be there-" Of course, considering it's her concert- "So you can tell me if you've found anythin' else out."

"When I find out who pointed me towards her."

His voice is careful, neutral, without any derisiveness in it. Graeme glances at the flyer, looking at the concert information, a flare of recognition obvious on his face, before folding it carefully and putting it into his pocket with a small shrug. He's been a lot more careful about putting things in his pocket recently, at least since he had done so and totally forgotten about it. "I think… I think my roommate's going," he admits, half a smile on his face. "I'm not much of one for crowds, or too many people about, not when I don't have to be. But if there's anything, I'll have Remi let you know." Graeme seems apologetic about the crowds thing, really.

"Wait," Quinn pauses from what she's doing, looking at Graeme with a tilt of her head. "Remi.. Davignon?" And now she can't help but laugh. "Small feckin' world, if so. I met her the other day at a sweets shop. An' apparently she met my flatmate, Elaine." Hands slip into her pockets, grinning at Graeme. "Your roommate's a flirt. But she's fun, an' cute. You should come with 'er. It'll be a really good show.

But wait, aren't they talking about something more important? Or, right. "Yeah, actually, I'd really appreciate that." She stows the iPad away, letting out a bit of a sigh. "But I'm sorry I haven't been more help. Hopefully, you can get ahold a' Ygraine an' she can tell you about it better than I can."

Graeme chuckles. "Yes, Remi Davignon." A pause. "And yes, yes she is." There's even a slight flush to Graeme's face now. "She uh, when we were out to dinner the night I moved in, decided that my … appraisal of another man was enough to play Yente." He grins, cheeks tinging ever so more slightly towards red. "But she's well-intentioned, and a nice girl, really." He nods. "You've been a lot of help, Quinn," he says.

"Yente?" Quinn tilts her head, unsure, exactly, of what that's supposed t' mean. "Well… I hope she is. The last thing my roomate need sis someone tooling her around t' get some sex. Not that I got the impression your roomate would, I'm just sayin'." She smiles, laughing a little bit. "We'll have t' all get t'gether sometime. I think that'd be a lotta fun, havin' a few more friends outside a' the band." Looking back over to Graeme, she rises up from her back. "Well, I'm glad I could be of service. I'll pass on your message t' Ygraine as soona s I can."

"Again, thanks," Graeme carefully slips the peacoat on, and gives Quinn a smile. "No, Remi's more interested in setting me up with guys, pretty much." The reassurance is nearly self-deprecating. "Until I learn to flirt, or something like that." There's a pause, and a chuckle. "I'll give her a call, when I can. Thank you for your time." He's slipped back into the business mode, not quite a real person. But the words are genuine nonetheless.

Quinn's lips curl up in a smile. "It's not her being hooked up with guys I'd be worried about," she remarks with a wry grin, following Graeme to the door. "Not a problem at all! If you need anythin' else, gimmie a call, I'll do what I can t' help." She gives a bit of a wave, leaning against the wall beside the door as he makes his way out.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License