Ragabash and bright ideas.
Wednesday, 25 January 2012 14:00![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flint_garouOkay … what? What again?"
25 January, 2012
The moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (13% full).
Shelby enters the lobby as though she owns it or, perhaps, expects a concierge and bell boy to rush to her assistance. Her clothes are newish and near the cutting edge of ready-to-wear fashion. "I was hoping Salem was in," she admits as the door closes behind her. "Or barring him, Mouse-rhya. Do you mind if I wait for a little while to see if one appears?"
Flint sits on the couch crosslegged, headphones linked to an iPod in his lap, though from the tilt of his head it's clear that the boy heard the question anyway. There's a 'one moment' gesture held up with a faint frown as the cub pulls the headphones off, shoving both them and the iPod into the pocket of the worn grey sweatshirt that's lumped on the couch next to him. "I haven't seen Mouse-rhya today, I'm sorry," Flint offers, watching Shelby for a moment.
She watches him in turn, blue eyes taking him in from head to toe and back. "That's all right. I know she's hard to get hold of, sometimes." She stops where she is, looking expectant.
"Flint, Takes-It-All-In-Stride, Galliard cub of the Glass Walkers," the boy volunteers with a half jerk of his head towards the building, pulling his stuff to occupy less of the couch, and sitting up straight from the slouch he'd been in.
"Shelby Zaleski-Leveque," she returns with an approving smile. "Called Bright Eye Sees to the Heart of the Ambush, Fostern Ragabash of the Silver Fangs. I'm the great-great-granddaughter of the Adren Galliard Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches. It's very nice to meet you, Flint." She can't be that much older than the cub, but she walks and sits on the couch as though she's never considered slouching in her life. "How long have you been a cub?"
The boy nods, shifting a bit further to end up cross-legged on the couch and slightly facing Shelby. "Just under a month now," Flint responds, quiet. "I think." He grins a little. "I haven't been paying particular attention to the calendar, or anything, what with lessons."
Shelby says, "Congratulations," with a warm smile. "It's nearly the end of January. —2012," she adds after a beat, teasing. "I'm not sure what Mouse's views are on out-Tribe teaching, but if you want to review things with me, I'm game." After another beat, and this time dubiously, "—I don't suppose you've had any dreams, have you?"
"End of January, right," Flint says, head tilted to one side as he considers this for a long moment. "Estimate was right, then." The boy rolls his shoulders a little, more of a stretch than a shrug, and there's a faint sigh when the dreams are mentioned. "Only the ark dream, and Mouse-rhya and Kavi-rhya already know, and had it too," he responds.
"Kavi," the Fang repeats, as if attempting to match the name to a face, and nods. "I've heard -about- it, but I don't think I've heard it from someone who was there." Beat. "—As it were. Would you mind?"
This time, it is a shrug. "'Course not," the cub responds. "Was I dunno, somewhere, and there were the materials and plans to build a ship. A big ship, an ark, really." Brows furrow in thought for a moment before he continues. "Then, on the ship, and there's a big wave/flood of green coming, and there are animals all coming to get onto the ship and away from the flood."
Shelby alternates between listening with her eyes closed and watching Flint's face. "What happened then?"
"The dream changed again, and the ship was sailing through… a storm, really," Flint continues, voice still fairly quiet as he recalls. "And then ahead there was a light, and a silver fountain, and then I woke up."
Shelby hmms. "What part did you play in the dream? I mean, were you steering the ark, or getting the animals on it, or were you just watching?"
The question gets thought for a long moment of pause. "First, building it, though that part wasn't in the dream it felt… pretty clear. Getting the animals on it, too. And then, at the end, steering it, yes. I dunno, though." The cub shrugs. "It's one piece of a puzzle, a really big puzzle. Kevin-rhya is trying to make a list, of all the dreams anyone has had, and who had them, to try and get the bigger picture."
"Oh, I know," the Ragabash sympathizes, only to quirk a wry eyebrow. "Oh, is he? I didn't know that. I've been trying to do the same thing. I should get in touch with him and make sure we've got all the same information."
Flint nods. "Yeah, trying to talk to everyone in the sept and all," the boy says. "That seems like a good idea, prolly," he adds, nodding a bit more. "He started a bit ago, trying to figure out who all had the dream where they woke up with a scar, and what other dreams, and such."
Shelby ticks off on her fingers. "Tim, Zosia, Salem. That I know of, anyway. I'm probably forgetting a few. I haven't had -any-…." She stops. Studies Flint. "—It would probably be a good idea to figure out who hasn't had the dreams too," she says slowly. "I haven't found any pattern for dreamers, but maybe there's one for the outsiders."
"Mouse-rhya and Camille-rhya both had the dream with the scar," Flint adds. Brows furrow. "No, still no pattern. Though there's some pattern for the ark dream, almost all of my tribemates have had it," he offers, with a faint shrug. "Except Devon, Devon said he hasn't had any dreams like that whatsoever."
The Fang settles into the couch, her expression turned decidedly thoughtful. "No dreams, Ragabash, Ahroun. Silver Fang, Glass Walker. As for scars, Ragabash, Theurge, Philodox. So far no larger moons. Tribes… Strider, Walker, Gnawer. Maybe city-based folk, though Tim's found on the bawn as often as not these days." In the inevitable lulls of conversation Shelby pulls a phone out of her purse and sends a couple of quick texts.
"Yes larger moons," Flint says, a bit absently after a while as the boy tilts his head in thought, then looking back at Shelby once he's remembered what he's actually trying for. "Owen had the dream with the scar, too, Emma said." A pause. "And Emma hasn't had any dreams."
Shelby ahs? and sits a bit straighter. "All right, so then that's every auspice but… Galliard." She has her own pause, probably trying to remember Owen's auspice. "And now two Ahroun and a Ragabash with no dreams. If I remember, Emma's also just returned from time away."
Flint nods. "Yes," Flint affirms. "And I know that there have been some other dreams, besides the ark dream and the scar dream, but I don't know the details, of those, heard about them from Javid, not directly."
Running footsteps sound from the direction of the stairs, and Kevin comes bustling through the door into the lobby. "Ah hah! Hey guys. Got your message, Shelby. Whassup?"
"The dream of the pregnant wasp - well, woman, but I'm pretty sure she's meant to be Wasp," Shelby nods, and glances over at the stairs with a smile for Kevin. "Dreams," she says simply. "Who's had them, and who hasn't. I've been trying to collect the former and Flint tells me you're doing the same. So rather than reinvent the wheel…."
Flint just tilts his head at what Shelby's said, offering Kevin a brief wave. The cub shifts on the couch again, thinking. "Right, Tim-rhya had the dream with the pregnant woman in the desert and the table feast thing," he says, half-distracted.
Kevin pulls a bit of a face at Shelby, as if he's cross that someone else has had his brilliant idea as well, but it's gone the next moment. "Yeah. Flint's been helping me collate things. Haven't done vast amounts yet, though. Some garou are hard to get ahold of. How many have you collected?"
"Nothing new, it sounds like," is her answer, with a wrinkle of nose at the older Ragabash. "The ark, which seems like it's confined to the Glass Walkers. So far the dream with the scar has shown itself to every auspice save Galliard. I haven't found any patterns yet. Though…," tantalizing, "I may have an idea about who hasn't gotten these dreams. Any dreams, really."
"Have you had chance to interview any lupus?" wonders Kevin. "I keep wondering what dreams the Red Talons have had, if any."
Shelby shakes her head. "No. They're hard to get in touch with. As you know. I don't think I've spoken to one for more than an hour in the past year."
"Mouse is metis, of course," Kevin muses aloud, "and she doesn't seem to have had any special dreams other people haven't had. Let's both try and track down a lupus, though. Hey, hang on, there's always Doodle…"
"Doodle?" the Fang repeats, uncertain. "Don't know… him? Her?"
Flint sits back into the corner of the couch a little bit, falling silent to listen while the two Ragabash talk. "Mouse-rhya was talking about half-dreams, and such, the same time she was talking about the scar dream," Flint pipes up. "A fair number of them if I had to guess."
"She. One of ours. Goes by Clarice in homid, when she has to," Kevin asides to Shelby. Then he looks at Flint. "Mouse is talking some… very strange things, lately. Isn't she?"
Shelby ahs to Kevin's explanation, a moment before the corner of her mouth curls up. "More than just the usual Theurge-ness?"
Flint shrugs faintly. "Strange, yes, sometimes," the cub says. "Apparently, the dreams haven't exactly been letting her get much rest." There's a tinge of worry to his voice, though mostly pushed away. "But, she… also said, a few times, that she thinks she sees the shape of it, or something. Not sure." A frown furrows the boy's brow, and he falls silent.
Kevin gives Flint a warning glance. "Mmyes," he says to Shelby, "theurges do tend to come out with some strange things, sometimes, I mustn't forget." It's fairly plain, though, that what he actually meant was something more than just that.
Flint quiets and fidgets at Kevin's glance, the boy looking down at his lap a minute, before reaching to pull on the sweatshirt from next to him so that it hangs over his shoulders.
"Ugh," the Fang offers sympathetically to the thought of insomnia. "I think, sometimes, I do too. Or the shadow of it, maybe." She looks to Kevin, then Flint before asking with a bright smile, "Flint, would you be a dear and make some coffee? I've been up since five this morning and I'm starting to wilt."
Flint nods in response to Shelby. "Sure," the boy says, brightening for half a beat as he rises. "Coffee it is." Silently, the cub excuses himself from the seating area over to the laundry room to put up coffee, leaving the two Ragabash to talk.
"Look, I need to move," Kevin says, "but can I catch up with you again soon? Flint can fill you in on anything you need to know."
Flint lingers in the laundry room through the process of making coffee, poking his head out only once or twice to check. Faint strains of humming drift as the boy goes about it, stepping out into the lobby again. "Sugar?" the cub asks, half-automatically, before brows raise and he looks about a bit. "Kevin-rhya had to go?" the question is not really quite so much of a question as an observation, given that the cub did hear the parting.
Shelby nods a farewell to the lanky Ragabash. "You've got my phone, of course." She makes no move to follow as he heads off, but greets Flint's return with a smile. "And cream, if you have it. Yes, he had to go. But now we're coming at this from two directions, so we can stop repeating each other's work."
"Right," comes the assent from the cub, and he disappears very briefly into the laundry room once more, before coming out with two large cups of coffee set on a plate for a carry-tray, and a fair few of those half-and-half in a little cup things and sugar packets for Shelby. There's a certain amount of deliberateness and care as the cub crosses back over to the seating area, and a faint sigh of relief when he puts the plate down with neither cup spilled, before Flint settles back onto the couch and then reaches to take his cup from the plate.
Shelby makes short work of doctoring her coffee the way she likes it. Taking a sip, she too sighs and closes her eyes in frank bliss. "Thank you." Then blue eyes pop open again, fixing upon Flint. "I don't suppose you could pass word that I'd like to talk to Mouse, could you? I've tried to get hold of her a few times, and I haven't heard back. I don't know if her mailbox is full or," a smile blossoms, "if she's avoiding me."
The boy takes a long sip from his cup of coffee. "When I see Mouse-rhya, of course," Flint responds, though the words are careful and neutral, and despite the boy's earlier talkativeness, there's a faint hint to them that he's still not used to that many words in a row.
"Well, I didn't mean you had to use your telepathy," the Ragabash agrees dryly. "It's not like I can force her to speak with me, especially now that one of your own is doing the same work I am."
Flint snorts with laughter a bit, though thankfully doesn't spill any of the coffee. "'Course," the boy adds, before pausing a bit to take another long sip of his coffee.
Shelby, on the other hand, continues to look as though she's having tea with the Queen. She's still relaxed, though less so since Kevin left. "Have they said anything yet about your Rite of Passage?"
There's a long pause while Flint takes a few sips of coffee and then decides that the cup is seemingly much safer on the coffee table rather than in his hands, which he folds in his lap. "No, just a ton of lessons and all," the boy admits. "Nothing yet, but." Brow furrows in thought and distaste about something, though the boy soon grins at Shelby anyway.
"It will happen when you're ready," she assures. "At least, that's what they told me." She pauses for her own swallow of coffee. "Anything you want to share with the class?"
Flint pauses a moment, with a tilt of his head as he considers. "Nah," the boy says, though proceeds to keep talking. "And yeah, that's what Kavi-rhya says, though he did say something about 'soon', but…" A shrug of his shoulders. "I don't worry about it or anything, though."
"Then I want some of those drugs you're on," Shelby laughs. "Because that's about all I did as a cub. Well, in between lessons, of course."
Flint offers the Ragabash a brief grin. "Easy," he responds, reclaiming the cup of coffee. "Probably the same with how well and immediately I took to all this—" a shrug and handwave "—werewolf stuff in the first place. But then again, didn't have much, I spent the first few days as a cub worrying that it was a dream and I'd wake up back in Oakland, or something. Sometimes… I still wonder, just a little."
"I was raised at a Sept and I still…." Shelby doesn't finish the sentence, save with a little smile and shrug. "No, this—we—are about as real as real gets. Even the trippy things, like the Umbra. Especially the Umbra."
Flint shakes his head. "And there's food here, pretty damn sure that's real," the boy adds with a bit of a grin offered in return. "Plus, it's too damn cold to be related to Oakland in any way."
Shelby, so helpful, offers, "I could dump my coffee in your lap?" She gestures with her mug before taking a sip.
Flint sputters a little bit, nearly losing his own coffee into his lap in the process. "Or you could cause me to nearly dump my own just as easily, I'm sure," he says. "No, 's warm enough inside, really."
As demure as she is from the chin down, Shelby's barely restraining laughter. "That's good to hear. Waste of good coffee. —Have they given you a cell phone yet? Or an email address? Or are you still on communication lock down?"
"No cell phone or email," Flint responds. "Though I can use the computers when I have a reason, and all." He shrugs, taking a long sip of his coffee. The way that the boy manages to be in the lobby without even so much acknowledging the door's existence confirms the unspoken agreement on communication lockdown.
"Well," says Shelby, and, "that will change." Right now, apparently—setting down her coffee, she opens her purse and pulls out a little notebook. The Fang jots down a number, folds the paper in half, and hands it over. "When you have a phone, you have a number to put in it."
Flint grins at the Fang, ducking a nod. "Thanks," comes the quiet response, as the paper is accepted and carefully tucked into the pocket of the too-big-for-the-cub sweatshirt.
She casts a critical eye at his clothes while he's not looking; when the boy looks up again Shelby's reclaimed her coffee. "If you have any other ideas about the dreams, and Kevin isn't around, Salem has my number too. Or," her lips quirk, "if they'll let you borrow their phone, anyone will do."
Flint catches just a bit of the look, head tilting to offer the Fang a briefly confused look in return, eyebrows hiked a little askance in silent question. "'Course," the boy responds.
Blithely ignoring that head tilt, the Fang has one last swallow of coffee before rising. "It was very nice meeting you, Flint—as well as educational." She shoots him another quick grin. "I think I'm going to follow Kevin's advice and get in some more running."
Flint ducks a nod. "Nice to meet you too, Shelby-rhya," the boy responds, cup of coffee cradled in his hands. "Seeya, then." The cub's only silent for a moment, though, and then he gets the distracted look of focusing on some lesson, accompanied by the faint humming strains of melody.
25 January, 2012
The moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (13% full).
Shelby enters the lobby as though she owns it or, perhaps, expects a concierge and bell boy to rush to her assistance. Her clothes are newish and near the cutting edge of ready-to-wear fashion. "I was hoping Salem was in," she admits as the door closes behind her. "Or barring him, Mouse-rhya. Do you mind if I wait for a little while to see if one appears?"
Flint sits on the couch crosslegged, headphones linked to an iPod in his lap, though from the tilt of his head it's clear that the boy heard the question anyway. There's a 'one moment' gesture held up with a faint frown as the cub pulls the headphones off, shoving both them and the iPod into the pocket of the worn grey sweatshirt that's lumped on the couch next to him. "I haven't seen Mouse-rhya today, I'm sorry," Flint offers, watching Shelby for a moment.
She watches him in turn, blue eyes taking him in from head to toe and back. "That's all right. I know she's hard to get hold of, sometimes." She stops where she is, looking expectant.
"Flint, Takes-It-All-In-Stride, Galliard cub of the Glass Walkers," the boy volunteers with a half jerk of his head towards the building, pulling his stuff to occupy less of the couch, and sitting up straight from the slouch he'd been in.
"Shelby Zaleski-Leveque," she returns with an approving smile. "Called Bright Eye Sees to the Heart of the Ambush, Fostern Ragabash of the Silver Fangs. I'm the great-great-granddaughter of the Adren Galliard Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches. It's very nice to meet you, Flint." She can't be that much older than the cub, but she walks and sits on the couch as though she's never considered slouching in her life. "How long have you been a cub?"
The boy nods, shifting a bit further to end up cross-legged on the couch and slightly facing Shelby. "Just under a month now," Flint responds, quiet. "I think." He grins a little. "I haven't been paying particular attention to the calendar, or anything, what with lessons."
Shelby says, "Congratulations," with a warm smile. "It's nearly the end of January. —2012," she adds after a beat, teasing. "I'm not sure what Mouse's views are on out-Tribe teaching, but if you want to review things with me, I'm game." After another beat, and this time dubiously, "—I don't suppose you've had any dreams, have you?"
"End of January, right," Flint says, head tilted to one side as he considers this for a long moment. "Estimate was right, then." The boy rolls his shoulders a little, more of a stretch than a shrug, and there's a faint sigh when the dreams are mentioned. "Only the ark dream, and Mouse-rhya and Kavi-rhya already know, and had it too," he responds.
"Kavi," the Fang repeats, as if attempting to match the name to a face, and nods. "I've heard -about- it, but I don't think I've heard it from someone who was there." Beat. "—As it were. Would you mind?"
This time, it is a shrug. "'Course not," the cub responds. "Was I dunno, somewhere, and there were the materials and plans to build a ship. A big ship, an ark, really." Brows furrow in thought for a moment before he continues. "Then, on the ship, and there's a big wave/flood of green coming, and there are animals all coming to get onto the ship and away from the flood."
Shelby alternates between listening with her eyes closed and watching Flint's face. "What happened then?"
"The dream changed again, and the ship was sailing through… a storm, really," Flint continues, voice still fairly quiet as he recalls. "And then ahead there was a light, and a silver fountain, and then I woke up."
Shelby hmms. "What part did you play in the dream? I mean, were you steering the ark, or getting the animals on it, or were you just watching?"
The question gets thought for a long moment of pause. "First, building it, though that part wasn't in the dream it felt… pretty clear. Getting the animals on it, too. And then, at the end, steering it, yes. I dunno, though." The cub shrugs. "It's one piece of a puzzle, a really big puzzle. Kevin-rhya is trying to make a list, of all the dreams anyone has had, and who had them, to try and get the bigger picture."
"Oh, I know," the Ragabash sympathizes, only to quirk a wry eyebrow. "Oh, is he? I didn't know that. I've been trying to do the same thing. I should get in touch with him and make sure we've got all the same information."
Flint nods. "Yeah, trying to talk to everyone in the sept and all," the boy says. "That seems like a good idea, prolly," he adds, nodding a bit more. "He started a bit ago, trying to figure out who all had the dream where they woke up with a scar, and what other dreams, and such."
Shelby ticks off on her fingers. "Tim, Zosia, Salem. That I know of, anyway. I'm probably forgetting a few. I haven't had -any-…." She stops. Studies Flint. "—It would probably be a good idea to figure out who hasn't had the dreams too," she says slowly. "I haven't found any pattern for dreamers, but maybe there's one for the outsiders."
"Mouse-rhya and Camille-rhya both had the dream with the scar," Flint adds. Brows furrow. "No, still no pattern. Though there's some pattern for the ark dream, almost all of my tribemates have had it," he offers, with a faint shrug. "Except Devon, Devon said he hasn't had any dreams like that whatsoever."
The Fang settles into the couch, her expression turned decidedly thoughtful. "No dreams, Ragabash, Ahroun. Silver Fang, Glass Walker. As for scars, Ragabash, Theurge, Philodox. So far no larger moons. Tribes… Strider, Walker, Gnawer. Maybe city-based folk, though Tim's found on the bawn as often as not these days." In the inevitable lulls of conversation Shelby pulls a phone out of her purse and sends a couple of quick texts.
"Yes larger moons," Flint says, a bit absently after a while as the boy tilts his head in thought, then looking back at Shelby once he's remembered what he's actually trying for. "Owen had the dream with the scar, too, Emma said." A pause. "And Emma hasn't had any dreams."
Shelby ahs? and sits a bit straighter. "All right, so then that's every auspice but… Galliard." She has her own pause, probably trying to remember Owen's auspice. "And now two Ahroun and a Ragabash with no dreams. If I remember, Emma's also just returned from time away."
Flint nods. "Yes," Flint affirms. "And I know that there have been some other dreams, besides the ark dream and the scar dream, but I don't know the details, of those, heard about them from Javid, not directly."
Running footsteps sound from the direction of the stairs, and Kevin comes bustling through the door into the lobby. "Ah hah! Hey guys. Got your message, Shelby. Whassup?"
"The dream of the pregnant wasp - well, woman, but I'm pretty sure she's meant to be Wasp," Shelby nods, and glances over at the stairs with a smile for Kevin. "Dreams," she says simply. "Who's had them, and who hasn't. I've been trying to collect the former and Flint tells me you're doing the same. So rather than reinvent the wheel…."
Flint just tilts his head at what Shelby's said, offering Kevin a brief wave. The cub shifts on the couch again, thinking. "Right, Tim-rhya had the dream with the pregnant woman in the desert and the table feast thing," he says, half-distracted.
Kevin pulls a bit of a face at Shelby, as if he's cross that someone else has had his brilliant idea as well, but it's gone the next moment. "Yeah. Flint's been helping me collate things. Haven't done vast amounts yet, though. Some garou are hard to get ahold of. How many have you collected?"
"Nothing new, it sounds like," is her answer, with a wrinkle of nose at the older Ragabash. "The ark, which seems like it's confined to the Glass Walkers. So far the dream with the scar has shown itself to every auspice save Galliard. I haven't found any patterns yet. Though…," tantalizing, "I may have an idea about who hasn't gotten these dreams. Any dreams, really."
"Have you had chance to interview any lupus?" wonders Kevin. "I keep wondering what dreams the Red Talons have had, if any."
Shelby shakes her head. "No. They're hard to get in touch with. As you know. I don't think I've spoken to one for more than an hour in the past year."
"Mouse is metis, of course," Kevin muses aloud, "and she doesn't seem to have had any special dreams other people haven't had. Let's both try and track down a lupus, though. Hey, hang on, there's always Doodle…"
"Doodle?" the Fang repeats, uncertain. "Don't know… him? Her?"
Flint sits back into the corner of the couch a little bit, falling silent to listen while the two Ragabash talk. "Mouse-rhya was talking about half-dreams, and such, the same time she was talking about the scar dream," Flint pipes up. "A fair number of them if I had to guess."
"She. One of ours. Goes by Clarice in homid, when she has to," Kevin asides to Shelby. Then he looks at Flint. "Mouse is talking some… very strange things, lately. Isn't she?"
Shelby ahs to Kevin's explanation, a moment before the corner of her mouth curls up. "More than just the usual Theurge-ness?"
Flint shrugs faintly. "Strange, yes, sometimes," the cub says. "Apparently, the dreams haven't exactly been letting her get much rest." There's a tinge of worry to his voice, though mostly pushed away. "But, she… also said, a few times, that she thinks she sees the shape of it, or something. Not sure." A frown furrows the boy's brow, and he falls silent.
Kevin gives Flint a warning glance. "Mmyes," he says to Shelby, "theurges do tend to come out with some strange things, sometimes, I mustn't forget." It's fairly plain, though, that what he actually meant was something more than just that.
Flint quiets and fidgets at Kevin's glance, the boy looking down at his lap a minute, before reaching to pull on the sweatshirt from next to him so that it hangs over his shoulders.
"Ugh," the Fang offers sympathetically to the thought of insomnia. "I think, sometimes, I do too. Or the shadow of it, maybe." She looks to Kevin, then Flint before asking with a bright smile, "Flint, would you be a dear and make some coffee? I've been up since five this morning and I'm starting to wilt."
Flint nods in response to Shelby. "Sure," the boy says, brightening for half a beat as he rises. "Coffee it is." Silently, the cub excuses himself from the seating area over to the laundry room to put up coffee, leaving the two Ragabash to talk.
"Look, I need to move," Kevin says, "but can I catch up with you again soon? Flint can fill you in on anything you need to know."
Flint lingers in the laundry room through the process of making coffee, poking his head out only once or twice to check. Faint strains of humming drift as the boy goes about it, stepping out into the lobby again. "Sugar?" the cub asks, half-automatically, before brows raise and he looks about a bit. "Kevin-rhya had to go?" the question is not really quite so much of a question as an observation, given that the cub did hear the parting.
Shelby nods a farewell to the lanky Ragabash. "You've got my phone, of course." She makes no move to follow as he heads off, but greets Flint's return with a smile. "And cream, if you have it. Yes, he had to go. But now we're coming at this from two directions, so we can stop repeating each other's work."
"Right," comes the assent from the cub, and he disappears very briefly into the laundry room once more, before coming out with two large cups of coffee set on a plate for a carry-tray, and a fair few of those half-and-half in a little cup things and sugar packets for Shelby. There's a certain amount of deliberateness and care as the cub crosses back over to the seating area, and a faint sigh of relief when he puts the plate down with neither cup spilled, before Flint settles back onto the couch and then reaches to take his cup from the plate.
Shelby makes short work of doctoring her coffee the way she likes it. Taking a sip, she too sighs and closes her eyes in frank bliss. "Thank you." Then blue eyes pop open again, fixing upon Flint. "I don't suppose you could pass word that I'd like to talk to Mouse, could you? I've tried to get hold of her a few times, and I haven't heard back. I don't know if her mailbox is full or," a smile blossoms, "if she's avoiding me."
The boy takes a long sip from his cup of coffee. "When I see Mouse-rhya, of course," Flint responds, though the words are careful and neutral, and despite the boy's earlier talkativeness, there's a faint hint to them that he's still not used to that many words in a row.
"Well, I didn't mean you had to use your telepathy," the Ragabash agrees dryly. "It's not like I can force her to speak with me, especially now that one of your own is doing the same work I am."
Flint snorts with laughter a bit, though thankfully doesn't spill any of the coffee. "'Course," the boy adds, before pausing a bit to take another long sip of his coffee.
Shelby, on the other hand, continues to look as though she's having tea with the Queen. She's still relaxed, though less so since Kevin left. "Have they said anything yet about your Rite of Passage?"
There's a long pause while Flint takes a few sips of coffee and then decides that the cup is seemingly much safer on the coffee table rather than in his hands, which he folds in his lap. "No, just a ton of lessons and all," the boy admits. "Nothing yet, but." Brow furrows in thought and distaste about something, though the boy soon grins at Shelby anyway.
"It will happen when you're ready," she assures. "At least, that's what they told me." She pauses for her own swallow of coffee. "Anything you want to share with the class?"
Flint pauses a moment, with a tilt of his head as he considers. "Nah," the boy says, though proceeds to keep talking. "And yeah, that's what Kavi-rhya says, though he did say something about 'soon', but…" A shrug of his shoulders. "I don't worry about it or anything, though."
"Then I want some of those drugs you're on," Shelby laughs. "Because that's about all I did as a cub. Well, in between lessons, of course."
Flint offers the Ragabash a brief grin. "Easy," he responds, reclaiming the cup of coffee. "Probably the same with how well and immediately I took to all this—" a shrug and handwave "—werewolf stuff in the first place. But then again, didn't have much, I spent the first few days as a cub worrying that it was a dream and I'd wake up back in Oakland, or something. Sometimes… I still wonder, just a little."
"I was raised at a Sept and I still…." Shelby doesn't finish the sentence, save with a little smile and shrug. "No, this—we—are about as real as real gets. Even the trippy things, like the Umbra. Especially the Umbra."
Flint shakes his head. "And there's food here, pretty damn sure that's real," the boy adds with a bit of a grin offered in return. "Plus, it's too damn cold to be related to Oakland in any way."
Shelby, so helpful, offers, "I could dump my coffee in your lap?" She gestures with her mug before taking a sip.
Flint sputters a little bit, nearly losing his own coffee into his lap in the process. "Or you could cause me to nearly dump my own just as easily, I'm sure," he says. "No, 's warm enough inside, really."
As demure as she is from the chin down, Shelby's barely restraining laughter. "That's good to hear. Waste of good coffee. —Have they given you a cell phone yet? Or an email address? Or are you still on communication lock down?"
"No cell phone or email," Flint responds. "Though I can use the computers when I have a reason, and all." He shrugs, taking a long sip of his coffee. The way that the boy manages to be in the lobby without even so much acknowledging the door's existence confirms the unspoken agreement on communication lockdown.
"Well," says Shelby, and, "that will change." Right now, apparently—setting down her coffee, she opens her purse and pulls out a little notebook. The Fang jots down a number, folds the paper in half, and hands it over. "When you have a phone, you have a number to put in it."
Flint grins at the Fang, ducking a nod. "Thanks," comes the quiet response, as the paper is accepted and carefully tucked into the pocket of the too-big-for-the-cub sweatshirt.
She casts a critical eye at his clothes while he's not looking; when the boy looks up again Shelby's reclaimed her coffee. "If you have any other ideas about the dreams, and Kevin isn't around, Salem has my number too. Or," her lips quirk, "if they'll let you borrow their phone, anyone will do."
Flint catches just a bit of the look, head tilting to offer the Fang a briefly confused look in return, eyebrows hiked a little askance in silent question. "'Course," the boy responds.
Blithely ignoring that head tilt, the Fang has one last swallow of coffee before rising. "It was very nice meeting you, Flint—as well as educational." She shoots him another quick grin. "I think I'm going to follow Kevin's advice and get in some more running."
Flint ducks a nod. "Nice to meet you too, Shelby-rhya," the boy responds, cup of coffee cradled in his hands. "Seeya, then." The cub's only silent for a moment, though, and then he gets the distracted look of focusing on some lesson, accompanied by the faint humming strains of melody.