Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2012-02-11 07:30 pm
flint_garou) wrote2012-02-11 07:30 pm
After the Revel.
Fucking Umbra.
11 February, 2012
The moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (70% full).
The door handle of the cubroom rattles in a rather uncertain manner, and then the door opens, framing Kevin. The tall, thin ragabash's silhouette is the same as ever, but his face is not; his eyes are the same freakish insectoid organs that he was left with after the Revel earlier. He tilts his head from side to side as he scans the room and its contents and occupants.
The Cliath, who still resides in the cubs' bunkroom for some reason, had hidden himself away in the bathroom upon returning from Revel. And he's still in there now, and so Kevin's entrance goes unanswered by Devon for the moment.
Flint had fallen asleep on the top bunk, not even noticing Devon coming in and hiding. But Kevin's entrance does get the boy to sit up, not quite bumping his head on the ceiling. "Hey," he offers.
Kevin tilts his head back and forth again. He seems to find this easier than moving his eyes alone. "Flint?" he hazards, as his head ends up facing the direction of the young garou.
From the bathroom, there's some shuffling, and a light thud of something against the door.
There's a moment, and then Flint gives a verbal assent. "Yeah." Another moment and the boy climbs halfway down the ladder, jumps down to the floor. "Hey, Kevin-rhya." Pause, and there's a call in the direction of the bathroom, with some concern in the cub's voice, as well as uncertainty. "Devon? That you?"
Kevin tilts his head back and forth once more. "I can't… see Devon," he says with a deep uncertainty in his voice.
The door opens a crack, enough for a single eye to look out. It's Devon's, to those who can make it out. But about two feet lower than it should be.
"'Sokay, Kevin-rhya," Flint offers, peering for a moment at the ragabash, then shaking his head. Then, the cub looks over at Devon, a moment. "So, gonna come out or gonna just hide in there until I need to kick you out so I can shower?"
Kevin manages to get Devon in his sights, though he doesn't show any sign of noticing that the eye is lower down than would be normal. "Ah. THERE you are. I was… wondering if you were okay after everything that happened earlier." He brings one hand up to his eyes to shade them from the ceiling light as he peers.
The door opens a little wider after looking like it may close first instead. Devon steps out, or a child that looks an awful lot like the Cliath did several years prior. "I'm fine," he answers, with his usual shrug. Mannerisms that are definitely his, even if he doesn't quite look as he did before Revel.
Flint gives Devon a glance, a very observant once-over, before he just shrugs. "Okay," he says, acceptance in the tone. Then the cub turns back towards Kevin. "You doing better?"
"Better than what?" Kevin snaps, before closing his eyes and apologising. "Sorry… sorry. Yeah. I'm kind of figuring out these eyes." He opens them again and scans Devon, like a snake, waving his head from side to side. "Did everyone there get some random crap happen to them, then?" he asks Dev. "By the time Chris got me home I'd no idea what happened to anyone else. Well, except for him being purple."
Devon looks, for all intents and purposes, like a much younger version of himself. His arms fold over his chest, though shoulders press upward in another shrug. "I don't know. I took off while things were getting sorted out." He doesn't talk like a younger version, however. "What the hell was all that? What happened to us? …Is it permanent?"
Flint grumbles quietly. "Nothing happened to me, or Mouse-rhya, or Wisdom's-Path-rhya," the cub offers. "But, we were further away?"
"Mouse is okay? That's a blessing, anyway," Kevin says. "I've no idea whether this is… permanent or not. There's the possibility for me that if…" He pauses, swallows as if trying to force something very unpalatable down, and resumes. "…if they don't fix themselves, I could get these eyes… removed… and they'd grow back properly. But how the hell we could fix you…" He regards Devon again, once more with his head a-sway.
"Can't exactly remove any part of me and have it return to normal," the Ahroun says with some wry amusement. "Man, I don't want to go through puberty again. And I'm going to have to steal from Flint's drawers or go around in wolf all the time just so I'm not skinning past everyone."
Flint makes a face. A very, very teenaged face, as he looks at Devon. "It's all too big on me anyway. So it'll fit you." The cub leans back against the ladder on the bunk bed.
Kevin laughs the laugh of a man who has been under too much stress, his voice cracking. "You'll have to have your whole body removed and wait for it to grow back. Ahahahahaha!"
Devon looks up at Flint first, missing the joke. Kevin just gets a flat look before a smirk pulls one corner of his mouth up. "Hey, Kevin," he says, chin lifting a little to point at the Ragabash. "I can help you with your eye-ectomy."
End of joke. Kevin glares at Devon, showing that if his eyes have been transmuted, his eyebrows still work just fine. "No, you can't," he says flatly.
Flint coughs once. Awkward interruption is awkward. The cub looks between the ragabash and ahroun, silent.
Devon raises his hands, palms toward the Ragabash. "Kidding," he says, sort of weakly grinning. "Been kind of a crazy day."
"You can say that again," Kevin sighs, and slumps wearily against the doorpost. "Tomorrow… I guess someone's going to have to go out and buy me some shades. Because all else apart, if I go out in public looking like this, the Veil won't last a minute."
Flint just shrugs once. "Guess so, yeah," Flint says. He climbs back up to the top bunk, pulling over his backpack, turns to Devon. "Really, though," the cub offers, "I should have something that'll fit. But, welcome t' my life. Everything's too big, an' all."
"You know what?" Kevin says. "I'm going to bed. And if I'm very lucky I shall wake up and find I've dreamt all this. I bet I don't, though…"
"I can't really go out anymore," Devon says by way of apologizing, "or I'd get you some shades. Hell, I should find whoever is going out and give them the cash for some new clothes for me." He pauses, giving Kevin a nod. "You and me both, man. G'night, Kevin-rhya."
Flint looks over at Kevin. "Dun think it's a dream, sorry Kevin-rhya," the cub says. A yawn is stifled by the boy, as well.
"No, neither do I," Kevin agrees. "But get some rest anyway. Life goes on. Tomorrow may be the day of Armageddon for all we know, and you wouldn't like to have to fight the ultimate battle on not enough sleep, would you?" On which cheerful thought Kevin leaves the younger garou.
Devon looks up at Flint after Kevin leaves, or at least up in Flint's direction. "Man. You going to sleep too, Flint?"
Flint looks over at Devon. "I dunno," the cub admits. "I slept pretty much right since Riley-rhya and I got back here until just now. I'll prolly just read, or something."
"I was thinking I'd go downstairs," Devon says. His arms fall away from his chest and hands go for pockets that aren't there. "…After I find some clothing that sort of fits. See if anyone else's showed up." Mumbling to himself, he starts for the closet and all the hand-me-downs housed within.
Flint nods, looks at Devon. "Here, I've got a shirt that'll fit you better than anything in there," the boy says, scrambling up to the top bunk, pulling a shirt out of his backpack and throwing it over to the cliath.
Devon turns just in time to catch the shirt, grinning his thanks to Flint. His own, definitely too large shirt is stripped off and replaced with the one from the cub, still big though not overly so. Some digging in the closet provides, oddly, a pair of shorts with a drawstring. Like everything else, these prove to be too big as well, though the string is cinched and they stay up. Mostly. "I look like a hobo," he complains, going to the door. "I hope someone's making a Wal-Mart trip…"
"Get them to buy me a new pair of pants while you're at it?" the cub says, grinning and turning to follow Devon. "I ripped the last pair up by accident, trying to grab them. In um." Flint grins a little, sheepish. "Crinos. Ooops?"
****
"I've already told you enough comforting jokes. Just be glad you haven't lost an eye, or an arm, or gotten all fucked up." Slug reaches into the bag after Riley, grabbing one for himself, along with a packet of soy-sauce. "In a way, you're lucky. I'd trade places with you. Beats my 'battle wound'."
Riley grunts, "You'll forgive me if I don't fall all over myself at my 'good fortune'." As might be expected, she's fidgeting every so often. It's a crappy thing, not being comfortable in your own skin. Riley glances up as Mouse walks in the door, quietly slipping the last of the egg roll into her mouth so she can occupy herself with chewing instead of looking painfully awkward.
Mouse's lips twitch briefly away from her teeth as she shuts the door behind her. She puffs furiously at her cigarette, heading straight for the stairs.
"That's because you're thinking at it like a man, instead of a Ragabash." Slug whistles, tilting his head forward. "A new body. New nerves. New skin. A new identity! Does it bend the same? Does it twirl a knife between the fingers so easily as the last?" Slug springs to his feet with a stomp of his boots on the tile beneath him. "Scars, gone. Old aches, old pain, washed away. Criminal record? Vanished! Fingerprints? New! A new body would be a wonderful thing, and if I could trade flesh and blood like beer and cigarettes, I'd gladly buy one for myself."
There's already people coming down the stairs. A cub who fared pretty well after that adventure in the Umbra. And a much smaller, younger kid who could probably pose for Devon's little brother, if not Devon himself. He at least moves like the Ahroun, same facial expression curling in toward a faint frown.
Mouse comes to a slow stop as she takes in both Flint, and then Devon. Her gaze lingers longer on the Ahroun, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she inhales deeply, and lets a plume of smoke flow from her lips and nose, to drift and vanish ceilingward.
Flint seems to have gotten most of giving Devon a hard time out of the way on the way downstairs, because now the cub's just silent, sweatshirt pulled around his body. A nod is offered to Mouse-rhya, the boy's brows furrowing ever so slightly.
Slug wriggles his fingers at the new comers, then takes a big ol' bite out of his eggroll. He swallows his big greasy bite with an audible gulp, and a pleased sigh.
Devon meets Mouse's gaze, though after a beat he sighs and looks away. "Don't worry, I'm not going to go running around and leaving toys scattered all over the place." It's said mostly in jest, with some self deprecating tones included. He grins over at Slug and Riley, brows rising slightly.
Mouse exhales smoke through her nostrils again. "Well, you can punch that smug asshole." She jerks her head toward Slug. Her voice, however, sounds mellow, with barely any inflection. "Apart from Wyld-mutations, is everyone safe and accounted for?"
"'s far as I know," Flint says, with a shrugging gesture that suggests that what he knows might or might not be certain of the words. He offers a grin to Devon, though, evidently amused by the joke.
"Smug? Envious. I wish I'd jumped on the thing before it blew up. I was going to, but then it died." Slug lifts his hands up at his side, shrugs, and eats the rest of his eggroll.
"An identity isn't something to throw away quite so cavalierly as that. This is a body, not an excuse to do stupid shit." Riley grumbles, frowning as she pops open the container of macaroni and cheese. She is just about to dig in when that word pops up. Poorly considered as only a ragabash can. She should understand, really. Would, under typical circumstances. It rubs her the wrong way tonight, though. "Envious?" Slug finds himself with a macaroni hat. "You want to lose your prick too, you let me know and I'll get right on that, man." She stands sharply.
Devon looks at Slug again, echoing, "Envious?" His head shakes slowly, joking aside. "I might actually follow Mouse-rhya's suggestion and deck you. You want to be turned into a chick? Or worse, go through puberty again? Shit." Arms folding over his chest, he looks up at the elder. "I know Kevin's back, we saw him and he wants shades to hide his eyes. Chris came back with him. I'm here, Flint made it back with Riley-rhya."
"Yes," Mouse says very thinly around her cigarette, "Being turned into a woman is either terrible or enviable." Her eyes shift slightly toward Devon. "Good."
Flint gets an expression on his face that says that the galliard cub is going to go with terrible, with a slight squaring of his shoulders. "Devon needs some decent-sized clothing," the cub adds, in the tone of shifting conversation and possibly being helpful. "Not even any of my stuff fits him right now."
Slug's head bows forward when he feels the quite warm ( but not all that hot ) pasta being poured over his head, but he doesn't seem to mind too much. He just grimaces at the sensation, then picks some of it off his head and pops it into his mouth. His face screws up momentarily as he thinks about their words, for all of a second. "I already did, once. Philodox cut off my parts with a silver knife, but they grew back." Slug steps up onto the coffee table in front of him and claps his hands, pointing at Devon. "Years added onto my life? Gladly. Riley's case? Sure. I'd do that. I'd take a rat's teeth, a bat's ears, my skin turned black, my eyes turned into a bird's… In all the world, and it's billions of people, you've experienced something few others have."
Mouse snaps immediately at Slug, in sudden, furious tones, "Shut up."
Riley's jaw sets, both in response to Mouse's extremely odd response, and Slug's exceptionally glowing outlook on the situation. Her fists and teeth tightly clench, and she's about to respond - but then Mouse does it for her. Slug gets a long glower.
"A few extra years," Devon repeats, nearly laughing at the idea. "A few extra years my child-sized ass. You fuck. If it's Gaia's will I die tomorrow, then any 'few extra years' I might have had were wrongly spent on me. You keep talking and I'll kick your ass without waiting for Mouse-rhya's permission."
Flint tenses next to Devon, looking over at the Ahroun. The cub's hands are in his pockets, which is the only reason that the fists they're balled into aren't visible.
Slug waves a hand and shakes his head, slowly enough not to loose any of the pasta lodged atop of it. He spares a wry grin at Devon and reaches up again, taking a bit of pasta into his hand. He eats it, and continues to pick pieces of it off his hair, using his head as a plate.
Riley's glowering toward Slug softens, if just a little. It doesn't stop her from self-consciously drawing her coat about herself and looking across to Mouse. She drags out a sigh and mutters, "Fine. Whatever. Over it. Girl Power." She snags up the paper bag, popping open the container of chicken and prodding it with a fork and mumbling, "So, disastrous Wyld explosion aside, the night went well."
Mouse's nose wrinkles as Slug starts eating the macaroni. She twists away from the Walkers (and macaroni covered Gnawer), and heads stiffly into the laundry room, cigarette smoke wafting behind her. There's a clatter from that direction, the sounds of the coffee maker being emptied.
Salem appears briefly on the monitors before he lets himself in the front door — bringing with him a blast of frigid air and a whaff of foul-smelling cigarette smoke with him.
Riley quietly chews on her chicken, though it's obvious she's not in the happiest of states. She's not bothering to make eye contact with anyone in the room, just stares down at her chicken. So, plan of 'hiding in the lobby' has officially failed.
Slug skips down off the coffee table with a clatter of his boot heels upon the floor, then starts meandering towards Devon with one eyebrow raised.
Devon continues to watch Slug, going silent though there's a ready tension about him. He doesn't seem at all bothered by the size difference, eyes narrowing as the Gnawer draws closer.
Flint stands slightly behind Devon for the moment, still. The cub is taller than the Ahroun at the moment, attention drawn over Devon's head to glance over when Salem enters, ducking a nod of greeting.
"Do you believe in fate? Gaia's will?" Slug asks, stopping some five or so feet away. He grabs another bit of pasta off his head and sticks it in his mouth, merrily chewing away.
"I believe you were told to shut up by the elder here," Devon replies, levelly. "You need any help with it, I'm sure some of us around here can be accommodating."
Salem gives the lobby his usual quick glance, then stops dead, frowning. His gaze fixes on Devon, then Riley — lingering on the latter for several long seconds. Visibly disturbed, he turns to Mouse. "…No shit. Wyld?"
Flint puts a hand on Devon's shoulder for just a brief moment, letting the cliath know that he's still there. And the cub doesn't seem inclined to move, though he doesn't make known whatever is going through his head.
Slug gestures inward at himself with his off hand, bowing his head slightly. "You wound me, a man only trying to do his honor bound duty as a Ragabash and a friend to your tribe."
Riley makes a point to drag her coat tightly closed at the scrutinizing gaze from Salem. Having a form-fitting V-neck was fashionable, when she was male. Unfortunately with a little extra mass, it's turned a bit more towards 'skanky' at the moment. She miserably sets her chicken down and takes the time to zip up her winter coat, hands shoving into her pockets. "Wyld," Her voice quietly confirms.
Mouse gives a single, somewhat jerky nod of her head. "No deaths. Lots of this." She pauses for a moment, one hand's fingers curling tightly on the door frame. "Wyrm-tainted Wyld dragon. At least no one had their head and tails swapped." Another pause. "That happened to a rabbit. Do you have any energy left from the rite?"
"Your honor bound duty as a Garou says you should submit to those higher in station," the Ahroun points out. His eyes tick toward Salem, hearing the Philodox's voice, then returns to Slug, fingers curling into fists.
Mouse looks away from the philodox, and stubs out her cigarette against the palm of one hand. Ouch. She doesn't flinch, but instead closes her fingers around it and crumbles it up. "No fighting up here. Basement." This, presumably, is toward the Ahroun and the (younger of the two) ex-Ahroun, though she doesn't raise her voice or look toward them. "I need someone to sense me for Wyrm."
Salem narrows his eyes, his frown deepening. He nods again, curtly, then takes a step back from Mouse and inhales a deep breath, centering himself before focussing his scrutinizing gaze on her.
Riley eyes Mouse carefully for a moment, but lacking the necessary Gift, she's only able to accurately assess, "Can't say much about wyrm-taint, but it's true that you're not at your most charming."
Flint looks down at Devon again, then turns, the cub's attention going to the exchange between Salem and the Elder, before ticking immediately back towards Devon rather than interrupt anything.
Slug lifts his hands up again and turns towards the front door, rolling his shoulders with a lazy shrug. "I have no interest in fights, they're boring." He yawns as he walks along, sparing a glance towards Riley.
Devon's chin lifts a fraction when Slug turns away, but takes that a sign to turn his attention to more important matters. He glances first at Flint, giving the cub a small nod before looking from Salem to Mouse.
"You're clean," Salem declares. He shifts his weight and rakes his fingers back through long white hair.
Mouse continues looking away from Salem as he focuses on her. Her eyes flick briefly toward Slug, but they don't stay there either. Mouse blinks at the pronouncement. "…You're sure?"
Riley bristles quietly, peering unhappily into nowhere for the moment.
Salem's mouth thins. "Yes," he says after a moment. His hand reaches into his jacket for his cigarettes. "No taint."
Flint seems to relax slightly at Devon's nod, shoulders losing that hint of tension that was visible beneath the oversized sweatshirt, but the cub's attention is focused on Mouse. And peripherally on Salem.
Devon frowns a touch more, another glance ticking toward Salem. "Why would you think you're tainted, Mouse-rhya?"
Mouse lifts a hand to rake her fingers through hair that is—not there. She's only managed fuzz, so far, and so her fingers end up curling against her scalp for a moment, before dropping. "Well." A long pause. "…That's a relief." She does not, however, sound relieved. "Thanks." Devon gets a quick look. "I just wanted to be sure."
Salem glances over at the gaggle of younger Garou, then turns his good eye back to Mouse. He steps closer to her and mutters something.
Riley seems to be obsessively peering down at her fingers, flexing and unflexing them. Safe to say she's still off in her own world right now.
Slug pauses near the door and bows his head, reaching into his hoodie for a pack of cigarettes. He wraps them against his palm and flips the lid with his thumb, allowing him to snatch a cigarette out with his lips. "Hey, Mouse-rhya." He calls, without looking, lighting a cigarette.
Flint glances to Devon again as all of this happens, then shrugs again.
Mouse nods very slightly at whatever Salem muttters. The movement is somewhat less jerky this time, but still a little off. Slug gets a sharp, narrow look as her gaze moves from Devon to the Gnawer.
Devon's lips press together at the answer before he manages a nod. Another glance angles upward to Flint before he turns a look to Slug.
Salem looks at Mouse, then jerks his head over toward the stairwell before turning his unsmiling gaze to Slug.
Slug hooks his thumb over his shoulder in Riley's general direction. "A spirit changed him, and the bodies of others. Now, or in the past. If one spirit can change someone, can't another change them back? Or give them something they've lost? If they look long enough, find the right place, strike the right deal … It can be done, can't it?"
Flint turns his attention to Devon, muttering something at the Ahroun, though the cub's gaze still rests on the Elder.
Mouse looks away from Slug and moves toward the stairs. Her pace is brisk, but for the entire length of the lobby, it's like she didn't even hear him. Only when she starts to pull open the door does she seem to remember, and even then, she doesn't pause or look back. "You won't like the cost," she says, tonelessly.
Salem shakes out a cigarette and sets it between his lips. Without lighting it, he follows Mouse into the stairwell.
Slug grabs the last handful of macaroni off his head and piles it into his mouth, sending bits of pasta and cheese across his lips, cheeks, and chin. "I don't like macaroni, either." Slug turns to look at Riley, lights his cigarette, and shoves his way out into the cold winter night.
Riley frowns at Slug's back, puffs a sigh and frustratedly sinks back onto the couch, folding her arm over her ribs and looking displeased. "None of the girls are up. Of course none of the girls are up." She unhappily glances toward the stairwell, "Except for Ms. Robo Elder. I don't think she's going to be helping much tonight."
Flint's gaze focuses on the stairwell door for a moment, before the cub turns, offering Riley a faint shrug.
Devon takes another step toward the stairwell, then turns to lean against the wall beside it. He looks at Flint, then to Riley, apologetically. "Sorry, Ri… um… I don't know how to help. Maybe give you my mom's phone number?"
Riley tries not to facepalm at the suggestion and finally just gives a solid shake of her head, "Uh… thanks, but, I'll… uh. Deal with it in the morning." Whatever 'it' happens to be. She grunts, and rolls right back out of the couch. "Before I get too lost in my own bullshit, it's worth saying. You both did well out there. The important thing in all this is really that we killed a fucking dragon, and no one got too banged up."
Flint nods at Riley's words, though he remains silent, more pensive, before muttering, more to himself than anything, "Helluva story, anyway."
Riley mutters, "Yeah, well. We're all in shitty spirits right now. Can't be helped. At least we're alive to feel bummed out."
Devon quirks a small grin at Riley, humble. He shrugs slightly, head shaking. "Thanks, Riley-rhya."
Flint just nods, before the cub stifles a yawn behind his hand, and looks from the stairs over to the elevator, taking several steps towards the latter. "Maybe—" another yawn stifled "—I should go to bed, an' all. G'night, Riley-rhya, Devon-rhya."
Riley scrubs her fingers unhappily through her hair, and glances toward the stairs. "Think that's enough for me, too. This night's been officially too long by half."
"Me too," Devon decides, hands scrubbing over his head. He lets out a breath and turns along the wall to head into the stairwell.
Flint goes towards the stairwell for just a moment, before the cub seems to remember—and the realisation is pretty visible—that Mouse and Salem had gone into the stairwell, and turns straight back towards the elevator, waiting and disappearing behind the elevator doors with the tinny 'ding' it emits.
OOC note: This is, obviously, after the Moot and the Revel. Both Moot and Revel are really goram logs that I don't happen to have, so oops for lack of context. Trying to catch up on posting logs, but it's taking some amount of time. Anyway.
11 February, 2012
The moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (70% full).
The door handle of the cubroom rattles in a rather uncertain manner, and then the door opens, framing Kevin. The tall, thin ragabash's silhouette is the same as ever, but his face is not; his eyes are the same freakish insectoid organs that he was left with after the Revel earlier. He tilts his head from side to side as he scans the room and its contents and occupants.
The Cliath, who still resides in the cubs' bunkroom for some reason, had hidden himself away in the bathroom upon returning from Revel. And he's still in there now, and so Kevin's entrance goes unanswered by Devon for the moment.
Flint had fallen asleep on the top bunk, not even noticing Devon coming in and hiding. But Kevin's entrance does get the boy to sit up, not quite bumping his head on the ceiling. "Hey," he offers.
Kevin tilts his head back and forth again. He seems to find this easier than moving his eyes alone. "Flint?" he hazards, as his head ends up facing the direction of the young garou.
From the bathroom, there's some shuffling, and a light thud of something against the door.
There's a moment, and then Flint gives a verbal assent. "Yeah." Another moment and the boy climbs halfway down the ladder, jumps down to the floor. "Hey, Kevin-rhya." Pause, and there's a call in the direction of the bathroom, with some concern in the cub's voice, as well as uncertainty. "Devon? That you?"
Kevin tilts his head back and forth once more. "I can't… see Devon," he says with a deep uncertainty in his voice.
The door opens a crack, enough for a single eye to look out. It's Devon's, to those who can make it out. But about two feet lower than it should be.
"'Sokay, Kevin-rhya," Flint offers, peering for a moment at the ragabash, then shaking his head. Then, the cub looks over at Devon, a moment. "So, gonna come out or gonna just hide in there until I need to kick you out so I can shower?"
Kevin manages to get Devon in his sights, though he doesn't show any sign of noticing that the eye is lower down than would be normal. "Ah. THERE you are. I was… wondering if you were okay after everything that happened earlier." He brings one hand up to his eyes to shade them from the ceiling light as he peers.
The door opens a little wider after looking like it may close first instead. Devon steps out, or a child that looks an awful lot like the Cliath did several years prior. "I'm fine," he answers, with his usual shrug. Mannerisms that are definitely his, even if he doesn't quite look as he did before Revel.
Flint gives Devon a glance, a very observant once-over, before he just shrugs. "Okay," he says, acceptance in the tone. Then the cub turns back towards Kevin. "You doing better?"
"Better than what?" Kevin snaps, before closing his eyes and apologising. "Sorry… sorry. Yeah. I'm kind of figuring out these eyes." He opens them again and scans Devon, like a snake, waving his head from side to side. "Did everyone there get some random crap happen to them, then?" he asks Dev. "By the time Chris got me home I'd no idea what happened to anyone else. Well, except for him being purple."
Devon looks, for all intents and purposes, like a much younger version of himself. His arms fold over his chest, though shoulders press upward in another shrug. "I don't know. I took off while things were getting sorted out." He doesn't talk like a younger version, however. "What the hell was all that? What happened to us? …Is it permanent?"
Flint grumbles quietly. "Nothing happened to me, or Mouse-rhya, or Wisdom's-Path-rhya," the cub offers. "But, we were further away?"
"Mouse is okay? That's a blessing, anyway," Kevin says. "I've no idea whether this is… permanent or not. There's the possibility for me that if…" He pauses, swallows as if trying to force something very unpalatable down, and resumes. "…if they don't fix themselves, I could get these eyes… removed… and they'd grow back properly. But how the hell we could fix you…" He regards Devon again, once more with his head a-sway.
"Can't exactly remove any part of me and have it return to normal," the Ahroun says with some wry amusement. "Man, I don't want to go through puberty again. And I'm going to have to steal from Flint's drawers or go around in wolf all the time just so I'm not skinning past everyone."
Flint makes a face. A very, very teenaged face, as he looks at Devon. "It's all too big on me anyway. So it'll fit you." The cub leans back against the ladder on the bunk bed.
Kevin laughs the laugh of a man who has been under too much stress, his voice cracking. "You'll have to have your whole body removed and wait for it to grow back. Ahahahahaha!"
Devon looks up at Flint first, missing the joke. Kevin just gets a flat look before a smirk pulls one corner of his mouth up. "Hey, Kevin," he says, chin lifting a little to point at the Ragabash. "I can help you with your eye-ectomy."
End of joke. Kevin glares at Devon, showing that if his eyes have been transmuted, his eyebrows still work just fine. "No, you can't," he says flatly.
Flint coughs once. Awkward interruption is awkward. The cub looks between the ragabash and ahroun, silent.
Devon raises his hands, palms toward the Ragabash. "Kidding," he says, sort of weakly grinning. "Been kind of a crazy day."
"You can say that again," Kevin sighs, and slumps wearily against the doorpost. "Tomorrow… I guess someone's going to have to go out and buy me some shades. Because all else apart, if I go out in public looking like this, the Veil won't last a minute."
Flint just shrugs once. "Guess so, yeah," Flint says. He climbs back up to the top bunk, pulling over his backpack, turns to Devon. "Really, though," the cub offers, "I should have something that'll fit. But, welcome t' my life. Everything's too big, an' all."
"You know what?" Kevin says. "I'm going to bed. And if I'm very lucky I shall wake up and find I've dreamt all this. I bet I don't, though…"
"I can't really go out anymore," Devon says by way of apologizing, "or I'd get you some shades. Hell, I should find whoever is going out and give them the cash for some new clothes for me." He pauses, giving Kevin a nod. "You and me both, man. G'night, Kevin-rhya."
Flint looks over at Kevin. "Dun think it's a dream, sorry Kevin-rhya," the cub says. A yawn is stifled by the boy, as well.
"No, neither do I," Kevin agrees. "But get some rest anyway. Life goes on. Tomorrow may be the day of Armageddon for all we know, and you wouldn't like to have to fight the ultimate battle on not enough sleep, would you?" On which cheerful thought Kevin leaves the younger garou.
Devon looks up at Flint after Kevin leaves, or at least up in Flint's direction. "Man. You going to sleep too, Flint?"
Flint looks over at Devon. "I dunno," the cub admits. "I slept pretty much right since Riley-rhya and I got back here until just now. I'll prolly just read, or something."
"I was thinking I'd go downstairs," Devon says. His arms fall away from his chest and hands go for pockets that aren't there. "…After I find some clothing that sort of fits. See if anyone else's showed up." Mumbling to himself, he starts for the closet and all the hand-me-downs housed within.
Flint nods, looks at Devon. "Here, I've got a shirt that'll fit you better than anything in there," the boy says, scrambling up to the top bunk, pulling a shirt out of his backpack and throwing it over to the cliath.
Devon turns just in time to catch the shirt, grinning his thanks to Flint. His own, definitely too large shirt is stripped off and replaced with the one from the cub, still big though not overly so. Some digging in the closet provides, oddly, a pair of shorts with a drawstring. Like everything else, these prove to be too big as well, though the string is cinched and they stay up. Mostly. "I look like a hobo," he complains, going to the door. "I hope someone's making a Wal-Mart trip…"
"Get them to buy me a new pair of pants while you're at it?" the cub says, grinning and turning to follow Devon. "I ripped the last pair up by accident, trying to grab them. In um." Flint grins a little, sheepish. "Crinos. Ooops?"
****
"I've already told you enough comforting jokes. Just be glad you haven't lost an eye, or an arm, or gotten all fucked up." Slug reaches into the bag after Riley, grabbing one for himself, along with a packet of soy-sauce. "In a way, you're lucky. I'd trade places with you. Beats my 'battle wound'."
Riley grunts, "You'll forgive me if I don't fall all over myself at my 'good fortune'." As might be expected, she's fidgeting every so often. It's a crappy thing, not being comfortable in your own skin. Riley glances up as Mouse walks in the door, quietly slipping the last of the egg roll into her mouth so she can occupy herself with chewing instead of looking painfully awkward.
Mouse's lips twitch briefly away from her teeth as she shuts the door behind her. She puffs furiously at her cigarette, heading straight for the stairs.
"That's because you're thinking at it like a man, instead of a Ragabash." Slug whistles, tilting his head forward. "A new body. New nerves. New skin. A new identity! Does it bend the same? Does it twirl a knife between the fingers so easily as the last?" Slug springs to his feet with a stomp of his boots on the tile beneath him. "Scars, gone. Old aches, old pain, washed away. Criminal record? Vanished! Fingerprints? New! A new body would be a wonderful thing, and if I could trade flesh and blood like beer and cigarettes, I'd gladly buy one for myself."
There's already people coming down the stairs. A cub who fared pretty well after that adventure in the Umbra. And a much smaller, younger kid who could probably pose for Devon's little brother, if not Devon himself. He at least moves like the Ahroun, same facial expression curling in toward a faint frown.
Mouse comes to a slow stop as she takes in both Flint, and then Devon. Her gaze lingers longer on the Ahroun, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she inhales deeply, and lets a plume of smoke flow from her lips and nose, to drift and vanish ceilingward.
Flint seems to have gotten most of giving Devon a hard time out of the way on the way downstairs, because now the cub's just silent, sweatshirt pulled around his body. A nod is offered to Mouse-rhya, the boy's brows furrowing ever so slightly.
Slug wriggles his fingers at the new comers, then takes a big ol' bite out of his eggroll. He swallows his big greasy bite with an audible gulp, and a pleased sigh.
Devon meets Mouse's gaze, though after a beat he sighs and looks away. "Don't worry, I'm not going to go running around and leaving toys scattered all over the place." It's said mostly in jest, with some self deprecating tones included. He grins over at Slug and Riley, brows rising slightly.
Mouse exhales smoke through her nostrils again. "Well, you can punch that smug asshole." She jerks her head toward Slug. Her voice, however, sounds mellow, with barely any inflection. "Apart from Wyld-mutations, is everyone safe and accounted for?"
"'s far as I know," Flint says, with a shrugging gesture that suggests that what he knows might or might not be certain of the words. He offers a grin to Devon, though, evidently amused by the joke.
"Smug? Envious. I wish I'd jumped on the thing before it blew up. I was going to, but then it died." Slug lifts his hands up at his side, shrugs, and eats the rest of his eggroll.
"An identity isn't something to throw away quite so cavalierly as that. This is a body, not an excuse to do stupid shit." Riley grumbles, frowning as she pops open the container of macaroni and cheese. She is just about to dig in when that word pops up. Poorly considered as only a ragabash can. She should understand, really. Would, under typical circumstances. It rubs her the wrong way tonight, though. "Envious?" Slug finds himself with a macaroni hat. "You want to lose your prick too, you let me know and I'll get right on that, man." She stands sharply.
Devon looks at Slug again, echoing, "Envious?" His head shakes slowly, joking aside. "I might actually follow Mouse-rhya's suggestion and deck you. You want to be turned into a chick? Or worse, go through puberty again? Shit." Arms folding over his chest, he looks up at the elder. "I know Kevin's back, we saw him and he wants shades to hide his eyes. Chris came back with him. I'm here, Flint made it back with Riley-rhya."
"Yes," Mouse says very thinly around her cigarette, "Being turned into a woman is either terrible or enviable." Her eyes shift slightly toward Devon. "Good."
Flint gets an expression on his face that says that the galliard cub is going to go with terrible, with a slight squaring of his shoulders. "Devon needs some decent-sized clothing," the cub adds, in the tone of shifting conversation and possibly being helpful. "Not even any of my stuff fits him right now."
Slug's head bows forward when he feels the quite warm ( but not all that hot ) pasta being poured over his head, but he doesn't seem to mind too much. He just grimaces at the sensation, then picks some of it off his head and pops it into his mouth. His face screws up momentarily as he thinks about their words, for all of a second. "I already did, once. Philodox cut off my parts with a silver knife, but they grew back." Slug steps up onto the coffee table in front of him and claps his hands, pointing at Devon. "Years added onto my life? Gladly. Riley's case? Sure. I'd do that. I'd take a rat's teeth, a bat's ears, my skin turned black, my eyes turned into a bird's… In all the world, and it's billions of people, you've experienced something few others have."
Mouse snaps immediately at Slug, in sudden, furious tones, "Shut up."
Riley's jaw sets, both in response to Mouse's extremely odd response, and Slug's exceptionally glowing outlook on the situation. Her fists and teeth tightly clench, and she's about to respond - but then Mouse does it for her. Slug gets a long glower.
"A few extra years," Devon repeats, nearly laughing at the idea. "A few extra years my child-sized ass. You fuck. If it's Gaia's will I die tomorrow, then any 'few extra years' I might have had were wrongly spent on me. You keep talking and I'll kick your ass without waiting for Mouse-rhya's permission."
Flint tenses next to Devon, looking over at the Ahroun. The cub's hands are in his pockets, which is the only reason that the fists they're balled into aren't visible.
Slug waves a hand and shakes his head, slowly enough not to loose any of the pasta lodged atop of it. He spares a wry grin at Devon and reaches up again, taking a bit of pasta into his hand. He eats it, and continues to pick pieces of it off his hair, using his head as a plate.
Riley's glowering toward Slug softens, if just a little. It doesn't stop her from self-consciously drawing her coat about herself and looking across to Mouse. She drags out a sigh and mutters, "Fine. Whatever. Over it. Girl Power." She snags up the paper bag, popping open the container of chicken and prodding it with a fork and mumbling, "So, disastrous Wyld explosion aside, the night went well."
Mouse's nose wrinkles as Slug starts eating the macaroni. She twists away from the Walkers (and macaroni covered Gnawer), and heads stiffly into the laundry room, cigarette smoke wafting behind her. There's a clatter from that direction, the sounds of the coffee maker being emptied.
Salem appears briefly on the monitors before he lets himself in the front door — bringing with him a blast of frigid air and a whaff of foul-smelling cigarette smoke with him.
Riley quietly chews on her chicken, though it's obvious she's not in the happiest of states. She's not bothering to make eye contact with anyone in the room, just stares down at her chicken. So, plan of 'hiding in the lobby' has officially failed.
Slug skips down off the coffee table with a clatter of his boot heels upon the floor, then starts meandering towards Devon with one eyebrow raised.
Devon continues to watch Slug, going silent though there's a ready tension about him. He doesn't seem at all bothered by the size difference, eyes narrowing as the Gnawer draws closer.
Flint stands slightly behind Devon for the moment, still. The cub is taller than the Ahroun at the moment, attention drawn over Devon's head to glance over when Salem enters, ducking a nod of greeting.
"Do you believe in fate? Gaia's will?" Slug asks, stopping some five or so feet away. He grabs another bit of pasta off his head and sticks it in his mouth, merrily chewing away.
"I believe you were told to shut up by the elder here," Devon replies, levelly. "You need any help with it, I'm sure some of us around here can be accommodating."
Salem gives the lobby his usual quick glance, then stops dead, frowning. His gaze fixes on Devon, then Riley — lingering on the latter for several long seconds. Visibly disturbed, he turns to Mouse. "…No shit. Wyld?"
Flint puts a hand on Devon's shoulder for just a brief moment, letting the cliath know that he's still there. And the cub doesn't seem inclined to move, though he doesn't make known whatever is going through his head.
Slug gestures inward at himself with his off hand, bowing his head slightly. "You wound me, a man only trying to do his honor bound duty as a Ragabash and a friend to your tribe."
Riley makes a point to drag her coat tightly closed at the scrutinizing gaze from Salem. Having a form-fitting V-neck was fashionable, when she was male. Unfortunately with a little extra mass, it's turned a bit more towards 'skanky' at the moment. She miserably sets her chicken down and takes the time to zip up her winter coat, hands shoving into her pockets. "Wyld," Her voice quietly confirms.
Mouse gives a single, somewhat jerky nod of her head. "No deaths. Lots of this." She pauses for a moment, one hand's fingers curling tightly on the door frame. "Wyrm-tainted Wyld dragon. At least no one had their head and tails swapped." Another pause. "That happened to a rabbit. Do you have any energy left from the rite?"
"Your honor bound duty as a Garou says you should submit to those higher in station," the Ahroun points out. His eyes tick toward Salem, hearing the Philodox's voice, then returns to Slug, fingers curling into fists.
Mouse looks away from the philodox, and stubs out her cigarette against the palm of one hand. Ouch. She doesn't flinch, but instead closes her fingers around it and crumbles it up. "No fighting up here. Basement." This, presumably, is toward the Ahroun and the (younger of the two) ex-Ahroun, though she doesn't raise her voice or look toward them. "I need someone to sense me for Wyrm."
Salem narrows his eyes, his frown deepening. He nods again, curtly, then takes a step back from Mouse and inhales a deep breath, centering himself before focussing his scrutinizing gaze on her.
Riley eyes Mouse carefully for a moment, but lacking the necessary Gift, she's only able to accurately assess, "Can't say much about wyrm-taint, but it's true that you're not at your most charming."
Flint looks down at Devon again, then turns, the cub's attention going to the exchange between Salem and the Elder, before ticking immediately back towards Devon rather than interrupt anything.
Slug lifts his hands up again and turns towards the front door, rolling his shoulders with a lazy shrug. "I have no interest in fights, they're boring." He yawns as he walks along, sparing a glance towards Riley.
Devon's chin lifts a fraction when Slug turns away, but takes that a sign to turn his attention to more important matters. He glances first at Flint, giving the cub a small nod before looking from Salem to Mouse.
"You're clean," Salem declares. He shifts his weight and rakes his fingers back through long white hair.
Mouse continues looking away from Salem as he focuses on her. Her eyes flick briefly toward Slug, but they don't stay there either. Mouse blinks at the pronouncement. "…You're sure?"
Riley bristles quietly, peering unhappily into nowhere for the moment.
Salem's mouth thins. "Yes," he says after a moment. His hand reaches into his jacket for his cigarettes. "No taint."
Flint seems to relax slightly at Devon's nod, shoulders losing that hint of tension that was visible beneath the oversized sweatshirt, but the cub's attention is focused on Mouse. And peripherally on Salem.
Devon frowns a touch more, another glance ticking toward Salem. "Why would you think you're tainted, Mouse-rhya?"
Mouse lifts a hand to rake her fingers through hair that is—not there. She's only managed fuzz, so far, and so her fingers end up curling against her scalp for a moment, before dropping. "Well." A long pause. "…That's a relief." She does not, however, sound relieved. "Thanks." Devon gets a quick look. "I just wanted to be sure."
Salem glances over at the gaggle of younger Garou, then turns his good eye back to Mouse. He steps closer to her and mutters something.
Riley seems to be obsessively peering down at her fingers, flexing and unflexing them. Safe to say she's still off in her own world right now.
Slug pauses near the door and bows his head, reaching into his hoodie for a pack of cigarettes. He wraps them against his palm and flips the lid with his thumb, allowing him to snatch a cigarette out with his lips. "Hey, Mouse-rhya." He calls, without looking, lighting a cigarette.
Flint glances to Devon again as all of this happens, then shrugs again.
Mouse nods very slightly at whatever Salem muttters. The movement is somewhat less jerky this time, but still a little off. Slug gets a sharp, narrow look as her gaze moves from Devon to the Gnawer.
Devon's lips press together at the answer before he manages a nod. Another glance angles upward to Flint before he turns a look to Slug.
Salem looks at Mouse, then jerks his head over toward the stairwell before turning his unsmiling gaze to Slug.
Slug hooks his thumb over his shoulder in Riley's general direction. "A spirit changed him, and the bodies of others. Now, or in the past. If one spirit can change someone, can't another change them back? Or give them something they've lost? If they look long enough, find the right place, strike the right deal … It can be done, can't it?"
Flint turns his attention to Devon, muttering something at the Ahroun, though the cub's gaze still rests on the Elder.
Mouse looks away from Slug and moves toward the stairs. Her pace is brisk, but for the entire length of the lobby, it's like she didn't even hear him. Only when she starts to pull open the door does she seem to remember, and even then, she doesn't pause or look back. "You won't like the cost," she says, tonelessly.
Salem shakes out a cigarette and sets it between his lips. Without lighting it, he follows Mouse into the stairwell.
Slug grabs the last handful of macaroni off his head and piles it into his mouth, sending bits of pasta and cheese across his lips, cheeks, and chin. "I don't like macaroni, either." Slug turns to look at Riley, lights his cigarette, and shoves his way out into the cold winter night.
Riley frowns at Slug's back, puffs a sigh and frustratedly sinks back onto the couch, folding her arm over her ribs and looking displeased. "None of the girls are up. Of course none of the girls are up." She unhappily glances toward the stairwell, "Except for Ms. Robo Elder. I don't think she's going to be helping much tonight."
Flint's gaze focuses on the stairwell door for a moment, before the cub turns, offering Riley a faint shrug.
Devon takes another step toward the stairwell, then turns to lean against the wall beside it. He looks at Flint, then to Riley, apologetically. "Sorry, Ri… um… I don't know how to help. Maybe give you my mom's phone number?"
Riley tries not to facepalm at the suggestion and finally just gives a solid shake of her head, "Uh… thanks, but, I'll… uh. Deal with it in the morning." Whatever 'it' happens to be. She grunts, and rolls right back out of the couch. "Before I get too lost in my own bullshit, it's worth saying. You both did well out there. The important thing in all this is really that we killed a fucking dragon, and no one got too banged up."
Flint nods at Riley's words, though he remains silent, more pensive, before muttering, more to himself than anything, "Helluva story, anyway."
Riley mutters, "Yeah, well. We're all in shitty spirits right now. Can't be helped. At least we're alive to feel bummed out."
Devon quirks a small grin at Riley, humble. He shrugs slightly, head shaking. "Thanks, Riley-rhya."
Flint just nods, before the cub stifles a yawn behind his hand, and looks from the stairs over to the elevator, taking several steps towards the latter. "Maybe—" another yawn stifled "—I should go to bed, an' all. G'night, Riley-rhya, Devon-rhya."
Riley scrubs her fingers unhappily through her hair, and glances toward the stairs. "Think that's enough for me, too. This night's been officially too long by half."
"Me too," Devon decides, hands scrubbing over his head. He lets out a breath and turns along the wall to head into the stairwell.
Flint goes towards the stairwell for just a moment, before the cub seems to remember—and the realisation is pretty visible—that Mouse and Salem had gone into the stairwell, and turns straight back towards the elevator, waiting and disappearing behind the elevator doors with the tinny 'ding' it emits.
OOC note: This is, obviously, after the Moot and the Revel. Both Moot and Revel are really goram logs that I don't happen to have, so oops for lack of context. Trying to catch up on posting logs, but it's taking some amount of time. Anyway.