Your Problems


abby6_icon.gif graeme_icon.gif keira_icon.gif

Scene Title Your Problems
Synopsis Abby is an unfortunate observer to Graeme and Keira having a bit of a spat.
Date March 2, 2011

Northern Brooklyn

Somewhere in Brooklyn there is a pet store, nestled in between two other shops - a second hand clothing store and mom and pop book store. There's a coffee shop down the street and the world keeps turning even in the wake of the domes collapse, the moving of refugee's from their homes there to Staten Island till things can be repaired. Martial Law still in effect, military occasionally seen on the streets and Humanis First making their rumored return to action. This is New York and there are people everywhere.

Even Ferryman terrorists need to feed their dogs and with her own dog newly liberated from her condo, Abigail's coming out of the pet store, a moderate sized bag of food in arm. She's going to have to strap it to her hiking pack at some point, already some food in a plastic container inside the pack. On a leash, leather collar and leather strap, a tawny furred, black muzzled and tail curled dog trots, stopping to sniff something outside of the store they were both just in before looking up at the tired looking brunette with her black toque.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We'll stop for water. I gotta figure out what to do with your food first. Wouldn't do for you to starve."

Graeme's emerging from the bookstore, several books now in the messenger bag that's across his shoulders, his skateboard in hand. Being a longboard, and that the wheels are rather brightly coloured, it is … distinctive, a little. As is the neon and fluorescent decoration of the underside. He's got earphones in, moving to the pace of whatever he is listening to, distracted, but when he sees Abby, the skateboard is rested against his leg so that he can wave, ever so slightly.

Even Humanis First terrorists need to feed their dogs. Keira Aislinn Fionn is no exception to this fact. She's decided to bring Odin along with her today, her rather enormous Great Dane. His shoulder comes up to her hip, and his head ends at mid-chest for the small woman. And he is well behaved, as well, walking along with his master with his shoulder aligned with her hip, the leash around his neck loose. She could easily walk around with him without a leash, but that's sadly against the law.

Keira herself is dressed in a casual outfit, jeans and a loose-fitting hoodie. She occasionally reaches out to scratch the enormous beast's back as she walks, humming quietly to herself. While Abby is on her way out, Keira is on her way in. As the enormous dog spots the other dog, his long tail begins to wag at a steady pace, and a small chuff of greeting is offered to his fellow canine.

Odin might be trained as Keira's guard dog, but he's still as friendly as can be.

But Rhett, isn't so well trained and likely didn't come from a more pedigree'd breeding stock that Odin did. Rhett was a foundling from the ferals that ran wild on Staten, rescued by an unlikely individual - Raith - and while he's easily half Odin's size, Odin is not Scarlett or even one of his siblings. Distracted by Graeme waving to her, Abby's hand on the leash is suddenly bereft of the leather as Rhett lurches away from her, intent on smelling Odin, getting all up in his business and making sure that Odin doesn't go for his food.

Because Rhett… has food issues and damned if Abby's not carrying his food. About to purposefully ignore Graeme, follow her husbands instructions, she stumbles as the leash is wrenched from her hand, and drops the bag of food so that she can go catch her half sized beast. And so splits the bag of food, kibble going everywhere.

Graeme's gaze goes from Abby, to Abby's dog, and follows Abby's dog to … his sister? Shit. Not what he'd been expecting today, at all. The man's eyebrows go up, and the expression on his face becomes very close to unreadable, whereas before it had been pleasant, though there was the interruption of 'oh shit' in between.

And so Graeme takes a step forward, as if to apologise, but ends up standing still, frozen in place. One hand is in his pocket, clenched into a fist, and he chews on his lower lip slightly.

To his credit, Odin is a very patient dog. He tolerates the smaller dog's attention, though if Rhett goes too far, the larger dog is quite content to nudge him away with that powerful snout of his. Keira pauses, allowing Odin to be a distraction so Rhett can be reclaimed by his owner. As Abby approaches, Odin's demeanor changes slightly. A low rumble escapes his chest, though this change of attitude disappears just as quickly as Keira simply states, "It's fine, Odin. Hold."

For the moment, she doesn't actually notice Graeme, busy watching Odin with the other dog. Mostly to make sure Odin doesn't get too snarly. Thankfully for Rhett, Odin doesn't seem interested in the food, more interested in doing what his owner says. Dogs are distracting, and this one is kind of cute.

Ass sniffing, that's where it's at don't you know. Abby scrabbles for the leash, head flipping back and forth as she gets a hold of it to yank back on her own dog and a soft "bloody hell" at the sound of tearing paper and the pebbly sound of kibble rolling everywhere on the sidewalk. She's too tired to deal with this, side effects of the vaccine, the crummy fatigue.

She yanks back on Rhett again wrapping his leash around her hand a few times. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, he doesn't get around other dogs much, oh hell" The food. Everywhere. Damnit. She doesn't even have a container for it, can't really dump it all in her pack and there went 30 dollars of food.

Graeme takes a few steps forward, and from his pocket, the hand in a fist is clenched around a fifty-dollar bill, which he then shoves at Abby. "Guess it's my fault," he says, quiet, before turning to Keira. At least he can assuage his conscience on the part of Abby's spilled dog food, even if he can't do the same thing for his feelings about the other woman present.

"Hey." The greeting to Keira soft, though the edge behind his voice, the anger and bitterness, should be obvious.

Keira raises her hand, offering a small wave to Abby. "It's okay. Odin's a patient boy, he'll live with a little doggy ass sniffing." You have to be patient when you're as big as Odin. He's likely a good six and a half feet tall on his hind legs. Certainly, he'd be taller than his master's brother. Big, big dog. His lips drawing back into a doggy 'smile' that involves him panting a bit, Odin wags his tail at Abby and leans forward to nudge her hip with his nose as if to say, You're sick, you shouldn't be out.

Then, Graeme is approaching even closer. Odin notices first, and reacts by suddenly stiffening and letting out a low growl to this new person he doesn't know. Keira blinks, turning her eyes up to her brother with raised brows. "Graeme." She pats Odin's side, and the dog immediately relaxes.

A hand comes down on Odin's head, a ruffle of his ears, oblivious to his thoughts. She's not diego. Just Abigail. A tug back of Rhett once more means he sits down beside her finally, away from Odin and tongue lolling out happily.

It's the greeting between both and the underlying tones that surprise her. Oh boy. And she doesn't mean the dogs. Standing between the two, Abby looks between Keira and Graeme even as the owner of the shop is coming out with a broom and garbage can, deal with the dog food that's spilled. It doesn't escape her that Graeme is thrusting fifty dollars at her, making the former healer balk, refuse it. "Thank you, but no. Not that desperate for money and it wasn't your fault. I shoulda strapped it in before i left the store" Rhett leans his head down, help folks hoover up the food, with his tongue, and Abigail's plopping her bag down to do the same, escape what seems to be an interesting situation.

Graeme unfortunately doesn't quite take no for an answer. It's money he has to spare, overall, and he sets it on Abby's bag, before turning back to Keira. And for the moment, all he does is watch his sister, expression sad, strained almost. His grip tightens around his skateboard, as if for a moment he's tempted to put it down and get the hell out of there, but he doesn't. Instead, he smiles at the sight of Odin.

The sight of his sister with the dogs does at least a little to curb the underlying anger. "Did you ever get around to talking to your ex?" The words are clipped, nearly strangled before they make it out, and terse. But still, his expression does not hold anger.

Keira watches Graeme quietly, a frown on her face. "No, not yet. I need to call him." She mumbles this, casting a glance back toward Abby as the woman sets about cleaning up the dog food. Keira…isn't going to help clean it up. Not her fault the dog isn't well trained. Instead, she's watching her brother, brows raised. "Odin, sit."

Obediently, Odin does as requested, settling back on his haunches and staring up at Graeme wearily.

Which is fine by Abby. It's not just her accent that clearly indicates she's from another state, but that she's actually helping the storekeeper, doesn't see Graeme slip the money into her pack. She's still trying to place whether these two dated or… who knows what. Rhett is still hoovering food, growling when the shop keeper gets to close to where he's eating, which prompts abby to get up, take him over to a lamp and tie him there, scooping some kibble his way so that she doesn't need to worry about him biting someone. Food Issues.

Slightly awkward, as conversations go. And Graeme knows it, keeping a half a glance on Abby.

Still just as tense, Graeme nods, before sighing. "Y' worried me, Keira," he states, voice not quite flat by now. His hand goes back into his pocket, where he can clench it into a fist without it being noticed, and he rocks onto his heels. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do, here." The second statement has the tone of a request, but with intonation comes the bitterness and such in his voice. "Please."

Keira spares a glance toward Abby and the shopkeeper, her head tilted to the side, before turning back to look up at Graeme, frowning. "I'm fine." She frowns up at her brother for a moment, before turning her attention toward the Great Dane at her side, scratching along his ribs. "What d'you mean, tell you what you're supposed to do?" She frowns. He knows. Why else would he beg her not to speak to her superiors? "You're supposed to keep your head away from my problems. They're my problems t'worry about. Not yours."

"Not to butt my nose into whatever it is that's between the both of you but maybe in front of a pet store and in front of complete strangers-" She doesn't know you Graeme, She's going to pretend that he didn't uncuff her from the bottom of a bullet ridden vehicle. "- Isn't the best place to be talking about what's what and worries. There's a coffee shop just down the street and I think there's a diner near by," the brunette couches softly, even as operation Kibble is coming to a close and rhett strains on his leash to get back to Abby.

"Just saying, you know." You don't air your dirty laundry is how she was raised.

If Graeme hears what Abby says, he pretends he didn't. After all, he's been pitching the conversation quietly enough that random people passing by on the street aren't going to hear it. And he frankly doesn't want to sit down and have a discussion with his sister, not right now.

So instead, he takes half a step closer to Keira. "When your problems can potentially get me killed, they become my problems. I care, god damn it." The statement sounds sincere, and then he's taking half a step back again.

Keira, on the other hand, hears Abby. Blue eyes turn toward the woman, an almost apologetic look on her face for a moment. Then, she's looking back to Graeme, a frown on her face. "S'why you need to not worry your pretty head about it." She mutters this out, turning toward the pet store. "Walk with me. You can help me carry Odin's food." At the very least, they can keep moving so people have less of a chance of overhearing. She's not too fond of airing her dirty laundry, herself. This situation is uncomfortable, at best.

Graeme nods agreement, but his shoulders and arms are tense. "I'll choose what I worry about, Keira." Yet, he follows his sister, into the pet store, half a shrug towards Abby. Best that he's not around when she finds the money he slipped in her bag anyway. "And I'd have preferred an easier way of making informed choices." Rather than the situation that prompted him to put a new hole in Richard Cardinal's wall.

Cheeks red with embarrassment, Abigail's going back in with Rhett, following the shopkeeper for a new bag of kibble. She'll find the fifty dollars later, likely tuck it into the Ferryman pot because the odds, she thinks, of seeing Graeme again are less than positive and like she did with the money from healing cops - into the church pot.

She'll disappear off into the city, feeling bad about the spat between a stranger and a sorta stranger.

Once they are in the pet store and a bit away from the general public, with Keira pushing a large cart, the woman finally speaks in a hushed whisper. "The less you worry about it, the less danger you're in." She reaches down, hefting up a rather huge bag of dog food and passing it off to her brother to put in the cart. Odin waits patiently. "There's a reason I've tried not to meet up with you too often. I care too." She shakes her head slowly, hefting up another large bag of dog food, placing this one in the cart herself.

Graeme shakes his head, easily maneuvering the bag of dog food into the cart. As far as he's concerned, it doesn't quite work like that, at least, not like her telling him what he should or shouldn't worry about. "The thing is," he says, and doesn't continue speaking. There's bitterness in his voice right now, and if he keeps talking, he's going to say something hurtful. So instead, he shuts up for a bit.

It takes a minute or so for him to figure out what to say. "Just be careful, god damnit," he eventually says. "And it's not that simple. If I hadn't taken sides before … this nearly forces the issue." Graeme reaches up, sets a hand on Keira's shoulder for a moment, and then he's turning around, beginning to walk away.

Keira grits her teeth for a moment, before reaching out to grab Graeme's arm, as if to prevent him from leaving. "God dammit…" She pulls him closer, if he'll allow it, turning a glare up at him. "I'm in way over my head, okay?" she hisses this out in a whisper, glaring up at him. "I didn't even know what I was getting into until it was too fucking late, okay?"

The next remark is said in a low, even tone. "I'm trying to figure out what th'hell t'do right now, okay?" The woman's eyes are sparkling a little more than normal, wet. "I don't know what th'fuck t'do."

He lets himself be grabbed. He lets himself be stopped. There's no actual resistance offered, when Keira does so, and the glare … elicits raised brows, nothing more. Graeme nods, and by the time that Keira is done speaking, the skateboard has been surreptitiously propped against a nearby shelf so that he can slip an arm around her shoulders. It's not quite a hug.

"Yeah," he admits. "I … I know. I'm sorry, I must make this a hell of a lot harder for you." Graeme looks down at his feet, before his free hand goes into his jacket pocket. He's observant, and a nondescript black handkerchief is offered to Keira. "And I can't tell you th' answer as to what to do." He doesn't know it himself. "But what you do know," and his tone is not quite as even as hers, "you can't tell them."

Keira relaxes a little as he puts his arm around her shoulders in the not-quite hug, taking the handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. "I don't need th'answer. I just need…time, okay?" She frowns up at him. "I don't want this…I know it changes a lot of things, and y'probably hate me, or something, but…you're blood. The only blood I have, far as I know, that I don't want t'fuckin' stab." She's talking about their mother, mostly.

"I won't tell 'em. I can't. Just…let me figure this out, okay?" She leans down, hugging Odin around the neck. Then, she murmurs for him to 'say hi'. The dog promptly changes from the calm, patient beast into an excited, happy dog, wagging his tail and wiggling his way up to Graeme.

As much as Graeme has tried, he can't hate her. He just can't. Instead, he says quietly, "You are too. This complicates things, but hell if I will let it change it." It's the only way he knows to tell her that while he might hate Humanis First! with every fibre of his being, he doesn't hate her. And it will take time, before he can fully forgive, but he'll try.

Clearly, her words bring some measure of relief from the nagging worry that's been eating at him, but it's merely a partial measure.

A smile creeps onto his face, and he reaches, petting Odin, and scratching behind the ears. The same smile is offered to Keira. "I will. I … I know how it is to need space," he adds. "And I … I will try to give it to you."

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