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[credence's mouth twists--he knows about not wanting to see your family, but he thinks they seemed sweet, in their own way. he wonders how much mr. graves knew about the second salemers, and if he's associated them with credence yet. he probably wouldn't joke about his family if he knew the whole story. he's going to find out eventually. credence isn't sure how he feels about that.]

They seem like they care about you.

[he realizes he's still holding his sandwich, and takes a small bite.]

They do.

[ And yet. Percival returns his attention to his own food, noting the quiet response, the small bite, and wonders again where are Credence's people?.

He'll just have to ask someone. Someone else, obviously. ]

And I care for them a great deal, but we are very...different, in temperament. My sister is a very loud person, used to getting her way by any means necessary, including winning shouting matches and throwing our family name around.

[ There's a gesture there, that could be read as a shrug. ]

[credence can tell mr. graves is also used to getting his way, if not perhaps by the methods described. he gives a small smile.]

Your family name?

[he's curious as to what this means in the wizarding world.]

Edited 2017-07-01 06:44 (UTC)

The Graves came from Roanoke Colony in North Carolina to Virginia in 1589. There weren't a lot of magical families in the early colonies, so. There is that.

[ Another few bites. ]

The earlier a family arrived, and the longer it remained in any sort of social or political position power - they've been mostly one and the same, honestly - the more clout the name alone carries, even today. Add to that the fact that there has been an auror within MACUSA since it's beginnings, with Gondulphus Graves, and you end up with quite the reputation before you're even born.

[virginia. he didn't predict that. credence raises his eyebrows. mr. graves seems so...uptown. but maybe all rich people do.]

You're from Virginia?

[wait--he gives a startled almost-laugh.]

Ma used to say the witches did Roanoke.

[he...honestly thinks it's kind of funny that one of what he always considered to be the second salemers' wackier theories has any relation to the truth, however misinterpreted. you learn to take humor where you can find it sometimes. he kind of wants to hide behind his sandwich though.]

Edited 2017-07-01 19:03 (UTC)

The oldest family estate is in Virginia, yes, though I spent most of my childhood in New York before I went to school and Ilvermorny.

[ At the mention of his 'ma' Percival's mind does an odd skip. More details fall into structure; he remembers reading an early report on the Second Salemers, specifically about that detail regarding Roanoke, he remembers mention of three children, he remembers telling Goldstein to be careful observing, because her anger at the woman's...everything was palpable.

He blinks. He sips his coffee. ]

Even a broken clock is right twice a day.

[ He gives Credence a small smile. ]

Has anyone given you a proper history book? Newspapers are useful, in a sense, but without historical context some things may be more difficult to grasp.

[credence blinks.]

No--I mean, Miss Tina said she'd order me textbooks, but you didn't really make everybody disappear, right?

[this is so distracting that he doesn't register mr. graves' smiling at him until several seconds after the fact. he flushes and looks down at the sandwich he's still holding. he sets it back down on the plate.]

Sorry. What's...Ilvermorny?

[it sounds like a university for wizards.]

No. Not...exactly.

There was...a conflict, between the two wizarding families who came there, historically, and the native people, who had very little divide between those who could practice magic and those who could not at the time. Add to that the issues of getting supplies from back home across the Atlantic while keeping the other colonists in the dark about what was happening...

[ Percival sighs, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his coffee. ]

It was, simply, a series of disasters in a few short years. Bad storms, near starvation, and mass hysteria do not make for a good combination. There weren't many No-Maj's left, when my ancestor left the colony behind, but they were unwilling to accept his help.

[ There's a raised eyebrow at the ignored sandwich. ]

It's the wizarding school, in Massachusetts. You attend from ages eleven to seventeen, and learn the history of our world.

Edited 2017-07-01 21:12 (UTC)

[credence nods. that sounds a lot more reasonable that what he'd heard.]

Ma said 'croatoan' was a hex to send everybody to hell. So don't worry, she's still wrong.

[he smiles kind of helplessly, but it fades as mr. graves describes ilvermorny. seventeen. so he's too old to go. he clenches his fists on the table and stares down at his plate silently.]

[ Older than seventeen, then, though Percival had presumed Credence's age at eighteen, maybe twenty, so it's not terribly surprising. What is, in a way, is how interested in magic he is - in the history, the people, the details. ]

There are other options. Tutors, that sort of thing, if Ilvermorny ends up not being available to you. It can be done, if you've a genuine interest to learn, and I'd say you do.

Granted, I only met you today, so.

[ A glance and a nod towards Credence's sandwich. ]

Is it too dry for your liking?

[credence nods and unclenches his fists. he smoothes them out against the table then looks up, startled.]

What? No, it's very good, but I'm not very hungry...would you like the other half?

[mr. graves doesn't seem to have made so much progress on his eggs. maybe his stomach knows it's lunchtime, even if he doesn't?]

[ Surprising, considering how welcome to the idea of lunch Credence seemed. Percival shakes his head at the offer though. ]

Would a change of topic improve your appetite?

[he smiles, and his heart flutters a little that mr. graves cares so much about such a little thing as whether or not he's enjoying his sandwich.]

What do you want to talk about?

[he takes a sip of coffee.]

You could tell me your favorite foods for dinner and lunch.

What I want to talk about are probably not conversations for lighthearted chitchat over... [ He gestures at their plates with one hand, picking up the coffee with the other.

Yet they're barely eating. Fancy that. Still. He takes another bite of the eggs, and then decides he'll just ignore them in favor of..this conversation. And his coffee.

He wonders if Credence plans on doing something with this information or if he just wants to know. It would put him more on edge, this idea of just wanting to know for knowing's sake, if his entire department and Serafina and the medical staff (and perhaps his sister, if she didn't presume he belonged to the first or last of that list) had not deemed Credence fit for the task of interacting with him.

He had found him, after all, and Percival is sure that he was going to die there. He's still not sure what living as a result of that is supposed to look like, and the fact that this entire interaction is almost a reflection of that should worry him.

Percival quirks his eyebrows again after a pause. It's more of a mental shrug to himself, than anything else. ]

The things I like the most for dinner are usually more difficult to find, on my schedule. Lamb cawl - a Welsh stew, comes to mind. Definitely a dinner dish. Baked potatoes. Sausages. German noodle dishes I never learned the proper names for.

Lunch...I think I've had a year of sandwiches or things left over from some other dinner.

Edited 2017-07-02 03:39 (UTC)

[credence smiles into his coffee.]

I'm not very good at lighthearted chit-chat.

[he takes a sip.]

Why can't you use magic to make the things you like?

[his tone is light and curious. he wants to know as much as possible, about magic and about mr. graves, and feels almost greedy for asking, but he also doesn't know else to keep the conversation flowing. he hasn't had a lot of opportunities to practice.]

Alright.

[ Percival will take that as permission to ask his own questions, then. ]

Not every magic user is the same. Cooking still requires the raw ingredients to put things together, magically and otherwise, and I am not...particularly skilled with domestic charms.

I could manage, with the proper spellbook and time, I'm sure. [ Because why couldn't he? Actually he can think of a half dozen cooking charms that would probably turn out mediocre but they're not being mentioned. ] Or interest.

Why did you want to find me? [ It would make sense if Credence chose instead to just...disappear. Why track down a man he'd never really met? ]

[credence nods along with interest until the end. he keeps his head down and hunches over his coffee.]

I thought we could be friends.

[ Friends.

Percival blinks before hastily taking another sip. He hadn't expected such a simple answer, nor the way he feels like something particularly large has decided to perch on his chest as a result. ]

I haven't had many opportunities to make friends in recent years.

[ Now it is his turn to look down. ]

I'm not sure how good I am at it.

[ He almost leaves it at that. ]

But I see no reason why we can't be friends.

You're welcome to ask me something else, if you'd like.

[credence huffs out a laugh that is partly relief and some of the tension drains from his shoulders.]

Me neither.

[is a charitable way to put it. his eyes flick from mr. graves' face back to his coffee.]

I don't know where to start. [he'd ask to hold his wand, except he already said he didn't have it. instead he pauses, pursing his lips.] How do you do spells? And--why do you need to make potions if you have them?

We're on even footing.

[ In this together, he thinks wryly, smiling at how Credence lets some of his tension go.

It might be a bad idea - he doesn't have all the details, here - but. Well. Left to his own devices he would probably have stared at the ceiling for a while before picking a fight with some poor nurse in the hopes of strongarming his way out.

Instead he's laughed and had coffee. It's not as bad as it could be.

Credence's question is not one neatly answered, but Percival opts to cut it down to what little is known to be true, without doubt. ]

A wizard or witch is able to 'do spells' primarily through access to magic, which is inherited, and with added training so one knows just what the hell one is doing and what one is aiming for. My training mostly involved wands, but a great deal of magic and potion making can be managed without.

You're proof of that.

Potions and magic... potions have much stricter rules on how one goes about creating them, and you can't make a potion without magical aptitude. The things one can do with magic are astounding, and potions are just. A very specialized sort of magic. There's various specializations really.

[ Textbooks would be better, Percival thinks, but hopefully he hasn't made things unusably confusing. ]

How long do you have to remain in the hospital for?

[credences flushes, ducking his head to hide a somewhat skeptical smile. he's flattered mr. graves might compare him to himself, and consider what he's done to be real magic, but both of these things seem kind of impossible.]

I don't know--I wouldn't say I can manage magic. Until I can, I guess. Could you--make a wand out of anything?

[modesty's toy wand had looked suspiciously real--and the way she had defended it was itself suspicious. how had she known the difference between a real wand and a toy? could a proper young witch, whose magic hadn't yet been distorted, just tell?]

Edited 2017-07-02 18:46 (UTC)

I won't pretend to be any sort of expert on the subject but no. Wood is the start, with some sort of core, usually from a magical beast. There aren't many wandmakers in the country, only four. You have to have a permit. A No-Maj won't be able to do anything with a wand.

[ Coffee almost emptied and poached eggs ignored, Percival leans his elbows onto the table and does his best to ignore the small part of him that now wants to tilt Creedence's chin up, just a fraction. Encourage him to.stop looking away.

Instead he clasps his hands in front of him. He hasn't lost all good sense and the table is in the way besides. ]

I can't think of anything else to ask. [ He can, but he wants to speak to Serafina and Goldstein first. Get some more details. ]

Ah. Do you want to see the garden?

[credence shivers a little when mr. graves leans closer, and his eyes light up at the mention of the garden.]

Yes. Oh, [he glances down at his sandwich.] I don't want to waste it...

[he picks it up awkwardly and takes another bite.]

Edited 2017-07-03 14:26 (UTC)

I think... [ Percival reaches out and touches the back of Credence's hand. ] You don't have to force yourself to eat.

[ He's not going to sit there and watch him do it either. ]

[credence shivers at the touch and slowly puts the sandwich down.]

Ok, Mr. Graves. Let's go to the garden.

[he sort of begins the process of unfolding himself and standing up, glancing up to make sure mr. graves is doing the same.]

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should've said "at" not "and" LMAO AND THEN I FORGOT TO ANSWER THE OTHER QUESTION go me

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