milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Grace is pissed.

For the moment she's hiding it well beneath her casual disregard for anything around her other than the Budweiser in her hand, but her friends would notice something simmering under the disinterest.

Good thing they aren't here.

She'd left the bar and the surprise family cabal only to find Earl sitting at her counter with the freaking brochures she'd just thrown away. Belching, she deleted her sister's messages and ignored Earl's latest attempts to impress upon her the importance of family values. It was a relief when he flashed the wings and disappeared to Vegas or the Titanic or wherever the hell he said he was going. She doesn't care. She never cares.

But she doesn't feel like being alone. These days, that means finding Mike and making some trouble, so here she is, lurking around the main bar with a beer and a somewhat vacant expression, waiting for trouble. Yee-haw.

[OOC: Also for car keys, all are welcome, slowtime likely, etc.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hamburgers, little man. The only reason I'm prepared to admit there's a god."

Lie.

"Hold on. Stay there. I'll be back."

She rolls out of her chair and strides for the kitchen in one easy, coiled motion. She moves like a force of nature.

When she returns, Grace has a tray full of burgers, fries and cokes.

He watches her go and return with vigilance unsuited to his age, and his eyes widen despite himself at the sight of the unfamiliar food.

"Looks good, right?"

Grace waves the tray at him in a wide arc.

"Smells good, too."

She flops back down, tray on the table, and grabs the closest burger. Two bites in, she says, mouth full, "Go for it."

He hesitates then, in a swift snatch, grabs the other burger and keeps it close to his body as he eats.

"Thanks."

"Welcome."

She lets him eat in peace for a moment, poor kid. He looks like he hasn't seen much laughter in his life, so Grace puts fries in her mouth like fangs and lets out a low woof.

The grin she manages to maintain makes sure it isn't scary.

He hasn't seen much pure silliness, it's certainly true. He blinks at her for a moment, then grins.

"You're... different."

The fry fangs get eaten.

"Thanks," Grace answers, grinning back.

"Where're you from?" he asks, devouring the burger.

"I'm glad you like it, kid, but don't make yourself sick. Eat slow."

She shoves a large fry in her mouth.

"Oklahoma City. U.S. of A. Waaaaaay in your future."

"What's the US of A?"

It did exist, of course, but the slangy term is unfamiliar and anyway his grasp of things outside St-Denis is extremely limited.

"United States of America," Grace answers. "Across the pond."

She grins at him with her mouth full.

"Where real football was born."

"...what d'you mean, real football?" he asks, confused.

Grace laughs, low and apparently quite amused.

"Pigskin."

Beat.

"Europe's got a game they call football. We call it soccer. I'll grant you the name makes more sense for soccer, given that you only kick the ball, but I'm patriotically predisposed to love our type of football the most. Anyone who's ever tailgated at Owen Field would agree."

She realizes this will make no sense to him, but what can you do.

"You got any games you like to play?"

"Racing the other gamins. The streets are always busy, it takes more than just running to win."

"Sure it does. Are you fast?"

Grace leans over and takes a look at his feet.

"I bet you're fast."

His feet are bare and filthy, but tough skin is visible under the dirt.

"One of the fastest."

"Good."

Grace chews for a few moments, watching him.

"You got people hurting you?"

Shrug. "If they can catch me. I swiped this from the inn."

'This' turns out to be a handful of small coins.

"Resourceful."

Cop or not, she approves.

"Got to eat. And they deserved it."

"They?"

Grace smiles and tosses a french fry at the kid.

He snatches it out of the air and eats it.

"The keepers. They beat their horse."

"What?"

Half of a fry falls out of Grace's mouth.

"Shit. You see them, you be sure to point them out to me. No one gets to beat a horse around me."

"Never seen them here. But I seen them do that, so they're on my list."

"Mine, too," Grace tells him, jaw set at a stubborn angle.

"Why don't you just stay here?"

Edited 2014-08-12 18:09 (UTC)