13405/Earl Grey, Danish, and uncomfortable conversations.

Earl Grey, Danish, and uncomfortable conversations.
Date of Scene:	30 May 2021
Location:	Apartment, the Blue Lady
Synopsis:	Giles and Thomas have a second heart-to-heart
Cast of Characters:	Thomas Raith, Rupert Giles

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Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith had made the simple phone call about thirty minutes prior. In contrast to their previous communication, this one was barely formal at all, if a little stiff. "Giles, look I think you are currently operating without all the information you need, and I was hoping perhaps we could clear some of it up. Think you could stop over for a light breakfast and a polite conversation?"

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles hadn't picked up the call immediately, but rather on the fourth ring. And sounded a bit muzzy when he had. "I know I don't have all the information I need," he replies after listening. Then silence for a moment. "Yes. Give me half an hour." And the phone goes dead at that point. With the advent of cellular devices, there isn't even a handy click as receiver meets base.

True to his word, about thirty minutes later, there's a soft knock on the same door Rupert had entered through the previous day. He looks about normal, if a touch paler than usual. The bruise on his forehead has faded some more, leaving it in the ugly phase where the colors are all yellow and greenish-purple. By the time the door opens, his hands are both tucked into the pockets of the pair of jeans he'd apparently opted for today. His long sleeved shirt is knit and, of all colors, purple. He wears his leather jacket over top of that and a pair of comfortable sneakers on his feet. He looks.. casual. Ish. For Giles.

Thomas Raith has posed:
By contrast to the super formal greeting he'd offered the previous night, invoking the Unseelie Accords and obligations of Guest and host, Thomas opens the door this time and says simply "Giles, welcome. Come in." Which under the laws of such things amount to the same thing." Thomas's own hand still has a pristine white bandage wrapped around it as well. There is a plate of danishes, still steaming from the oven resting on the table, and Thomas moves immediately to a whistling kettle and pours the boiling water into a blue and white damask patterned tea pot. "Now, I've always been proud to be an American," he says casually as he adds cream, sugar, and lemon to the tea service and brings it over to the table, "But I have to admit, your countrymen could defiantly teach mine allot about tea."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles also still has a bandage wrapped about his left hand. It looks fresh. He nods, and, pulling his hands free of his pockets, he enters the apartment as he's bidden to do so. There's a stiffness about him, about the set of his shoulders. And he's still limping, though a bit less so than the previous day, on his right leg. He wanders over to the table and pauses there to look to Thomas. "And the British don't hold a candle to what is known about tea in China." His eyes linger on the blue and white damask patterned tea pot. "That is a lovely tea pot." He looks back to Thomas, blue eyes much calmer than they had been the previous day. "I'm concerned."

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith nods slightly, "I gathered as much." He says simply as he lets the tea steep in the pot. "that was why I asked you to come over, to hopefully set aside those concerns in as simple and direct, and hopefully with as little discomfort as possible. Considering the, shall we say, delicate subject matter at hand? Please help yourself to some Danish." Then he says something most might not want to hear from a White Court under normal situations, "I've got props."

Rupert Giles has posed:
"I do apologize for my words yesterday. They were harsh and uncalled for." No, really. They were both. Harsh, and uncalled for. No matter how Giles might feel, what he said hadn't been very nice, nor polite. Of course, Giles can cut metal with his tongue just about at times, but still! Bad Giles! He glances once more to the danish and nods, reaching for one. He is raising it toward his mouth when Thomas says that last bit. And the Danish pauses about three inches from having a bite taken from it, Giles' eyes back on the vampire. "What do you mean by that? Props." Clearly, Giles isn't entirely certain!

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith grins slightly, "Let's call them visual aids. That might be a bit more in line anyway." He says as he walks to the counter and comes back with several glasses of various sizes, and lines them up in order from smallest to largest. He touches the tea pot with the side of his hand to check it's tempture, nods and pours the tea into match damask cups. "I got this set in Vancouver. Nice little shop up there. They actually sold me a hockey stick and a pair of drum sticks that had been foci for a wizard. Gave those to Harry for last Christmas. Although i am assured that this is just a tea pot." he says with a bit of a grin, He pours his own tea and selects a danish, taking a bite before saying. "Now I want you to pretend, just for a moment that you are a White Court Vampire."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles remembers the danish in his hand, and it continues to its destination. A bite of it is taken and he chews while listening, and watching, what Thomas does. "Vancouver. Nice place. Reminds me of home." By which, he probably means it rains a lot. He nods about the sticks, both drum and hockey, and then again about the tea pot. "It seems to be a normal tea pot to me, too," he says. He takes another bite of the danish, and then shakes his head at Thomas. "I'm not sure I have that capacity. I don't know enough about White Court vampires to pretend to be one. But go ahead. I'll do my best."

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith chuckles a little bit and says, "I'll keep it fairly simple, I'm sure you'll be able to keep up." He says with a smile and pushes the first glass, a shot glass, over to Giles. It, like all the glasses are empty of course. "So this represents the life force of say, a Zombie. Not much there at all. Basically just a spark to keep the whole thing animated. Take out spark, and it falls apart. And for this discussion, let's say that Life Force is like cool water. Simple and easy to drink. Are you still with me?

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles nods slowly, and eats the danish while he listens to the vampire speak. "Right. Life force. Cool water. Simple. Easy to drink. I'm with you still. Go on," he says. He takes another bite of danish, and then reaches for the tea cup Thomas isn't using. Curiously, he adds nothing but a little sugar to it. And that only one lump, as it were.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith smiles a bit, glad to see that he is getting through, and hoping that that means this will go smoothly. He slides over a highball glass and gestures to it. "Vampires. Little more then a zombie of course, but not allot. Still can swallow them up in a single draw because there isn't that much life force left in them, as you can imagine." He adds just a bit of milk and sugar to his own tea and sips. "Now this beer mug," he says calmly would represent your average, healthy human. Yourself for instance. probably not going to finish it in one swallow, but easily do so in one...shall we say setting. But also easy enough to take a nice big drink from, leave the rest, and pick up another glass... if you are still following my analogy."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles finishes the danish and leans back, cradling the tea cup gently between his hands. He lifts it to sip from it from time to time as Thomas explains his thing. He lifts one hand and waves it toward the vampire. "Yes yes. I'm still following. Continue, please." Now, he's a bit impatient for the knowledge to continue being imparted. But then, Giles is always that way when learning new things. Can't learn it /fast/ enough to satisfy his curiosity.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith smiles a bit, nodding his head in acquiescence, smiling as he sees the Watcher following along. "Alright then." the next cup he gestures to is one of those "Super sized" soda cups you get from McDonalds or other fast food places. "Now this would represent Wizards for instance. Most mutants I would say as well, things of that nature. Willow would likely fall into this category. Really too big for a single serving, unless you are being gluttonious. You could likely drink your fill from one of these, leave some behind and, while they might not feel the greatest, they would recover and be perfectly fine in a few days." He stands now and brings over a gallon sized juice pitcher. "Now this," he explains would be things like werewolves for instance. Certain types of fae. Creatures overflowing with life force. Could one person, or in this case White Court, drink all of this? Maybe. probably be far too much though. In fairness, my hunger is one of the strongest that I know of, so I likely could do it, but even then it would be a bit of a challenge to drain this vessel dry." He then says "Now just one moment..." And walks out of the room for just a second. When he comes back it is with a dolly, pushing a 40 gallon beer keg. He sets it down with a bit of a 'Thud'. "Meet Buffy."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles watches, and raises a brow as Thomas brings in a beer keg. "You know, you really could have simply described them using your hands," he says dryly. Then shakes his head. "But I understand. But that doesn't mean that, no matter how much power Buffy has, she's immune to the effects of repeatedly being fed upon. She's twenty-two years old. Two weeks ago, she had no grey hair. Now she has grey hair. And though I haven't seen it myself, she's been overly tired and lethargic of late." Then again, they'd had a spat, so he might not have seen it. Despite that, he's here now. "I care about her, Thomas. She's as important to me as if she were my own flesh and blood. If 'tis not you causing..." He waves his left hand in the air, bandage and all. "Causing what's going on, then help us convince her to figure out what /is/. Please. I have no intention of coming between the two of you. I never did. I just want her to be as safe as she can be." As any father would want.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith sighs a bit, blowing at an errant strand of his own hair that is so artfully disheveled, on anyone else it likely would have taken several minutes to achieve the effect. Thomas likely ran his fingers through his hair. "Right, about that." He sighs and says, "You might want to put the danish down for this bit, alright?" he says, trying to give the man a bit of fair warning.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles is done with the danish, but does put the tea cup down. He leans forward, and rests his elbows on his knees, watching Thomas. The tea cup sits there, about half a foot from the edge of the table, still a bit more than half full. He nods. "Spit it out, man," he says, blue eyes intense and locked on the vampire.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith sighs a bit, "Now bear in mind that these things," He gestures to the array of glassware, "Refill themselves, given enough time and..well life. By the way, for your own records, best cure for a White Court attack is large amounts of chocolate. Anyway... Several weeks ago in a moment of shall we say a moment of amorous affection, Buffy asked me to go all out. She wanted to experience what it was like to have a White Court, in the full of his power try and take her, in a controlled condition. This was both for the...moment, and also so she understood the effects in the event of the actual attack. The grey streak in her hair? That is a result of that night."

Rupert Giles has posed:
That.. that had been unexpected. The chocolate. The refilling? That just makes sense. Life replenishes itself. Giles reaches for the tea again, after the explanation, entirely unperturbed. "Ah. So it was a one off? Not likely to happen again? 'tis a good thing to know. To experience. To understand." He looks thoughtful, brow furrowed a bit. He finishes the tea as he sits there. "Right," he says, and looks up to Thomas, blue eyes meeting blue. "You've given me much to think on. And I.. I'm not feeling very well. Thank you for explaining things to me. And.. keep me updated? Perhaps not on your sex life, though. I don't really need to know." He sets the tea cup down and rises to his feet to make his way toward the door.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith smirks just a little bit, "To be fair, it was the only way to make you properly understand." He stands up ant takes one of those strophone take out containers, likely pilfered from the club downstairs. "Here take the rst of the danishes for yourself and your lady friend." He says offering them over. "And may I say as a consour of such things, Not bad Giles."