Introduce Yourself.

[flint_garou]

You need to get used to doing that.
1 January, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (50% full).

Night reigns supreme by the time Devon returns to the Tenement building, having spent the entire day following the strange ritual out in the city. He'd already left messages with various others to let Mouse know where to find him, even taken a moment to phone the elder himself for good measure — after all, he'd returned alive and the boy knows he's somehow cheated death — before taking himself upstairs. Rather than retreat to the cubs' bunkroom as he might have days before, and though he longs for a hot shower, instead he goes into the break room, still covered in drying blood that wouldn't wipe off and wearing clothes yet stained and soaked with gore.

Flint looks up from where he's putting away various dishes, brows furrowing slightly as he spots Devon. Or perhaps more at the state Devon is in. For the moment, the boy just ducks a nod of greeting and goes back to what he had already been doing.

Devon catches the look, the furrowing of Flint's brow, and glances down at himself. He sighs and shakes his head, dragging a grungy hand through mussed hair. "Hey, Flint," he greets the younger boy quietly, going toward the kitchen area in search of a garbage bag. "Anything made for supper, or it a fend-for-yourself kind of night?"

The boy looks up again, and his brow furrows a little bit further. "I'll get you a plate and heat it up," he offers, positioning himself in the way of getting to the clean dishes anyway and beginning to do just so regardless of whether or not Devon agrees. "Fend, but."

The Ahroun cub's head lifts and he stares at Flint for a long moment, brows drawing together into a vee. Lips press into a flat line, hand closing around the garbage bag. Turning away from the younger boy, he pulls the taken jacket off, stuffing it into the plastic wrapping until it can be washed properly, though his shirt underneath isn't much better. He remains silent in setting the bag beside the door, and still as he moves across the break room and toward the bathroom to give himself another scrubbing.

There's the creak of the floor out in the hallway, and the sound of someone moving toward the breakroom. Moments later, Mouse pops in, halfway through a cigarette and looking pensive. She hefts her phone. "Got a message—ah." She peers at Devon's back.

Flint turns his head at the sound, then nodding to Mouse as she comes in, with a half jerk of his head towards where Devon has gone. The furrow of the young cub's brow lessens as well, and he leans against the kitchen counter, quiet.

Devon glances over his shoulder at the sound of the elder's voice, abandoning any cleansing he might have done while waiting. He turns to face Mouse, mouth pulling off to one side briefly, then smoothing out again. "Hey, Mouse-rhya."

Mouse looks all business now, that pensive expression vanished behind one that's utterly inscrutable. She gestures toward one of the chairs at the table, and moves to take one herself—she sits on it backwards, with her arms resting over the back. "You're not dead, so tell me what happened."

Flint silences the microwave as soon as it's finished, and then, after a moment of consideration, unobtrusively places the food that had been heated for the Ahroun cub aside a bit from the chair Mouse pointed to, before making his way towards the couch, and the book that's left there.

Out at the end of the hallway, Kavi's door opens, and the galliard starts making his way toward the stairs.

Salem emerges from the stairwell just as Kavi heads toward it. He jerks his head in a nod of greeting.

Devon rubs his right arm with his left hand as he approaches the table, eyes flicking to and then away from Flint. "Took a bit, but I found the guy you told me about," he says as he pulls out the chair and sits. "I got him into the alley, away from any unwanted eyes, and then killed him." So simply said, though the boy's gaze rests on the table. "Cleaned it up as best I could, there was a lot of blood, though, already there before I provoked the guy into a fight."

Mouse threads her fingers under her chin. "Already there?" she echoes.

Kavi returns Salem's nod of greeting. "Sir," he says to the philodox. Then his gaze turns toward the voices from the break room, and he heads in that direction.

Salem lets Kavi lead the way in, absent-mindedly taking off his hat and rolling it up to stuff into a pocket as he follows the Galliard.

"Yeah." Devon rubs a hand over the back of his head. "Saw the guy twice take two different homeless people into the alley, then come out alone a little later. There was blood on one of the walls and probably some on the ground. Didn't see any bodies in the alley though."

Mouse's eyes narrow. "Tell me about the fight, and the disposal." She's focused, but still her expression seems impossible to read. The smoke from her cigarette is doing a fair job of smelling up the room, though.

Kavi slips into the room, his gaze taking in the cubs and his elder, focusing for a long moment on the latter. He sidesteps, making room for Salem, but doesn't interrupt.
Salem's eyebrows rise slightly, and his mismatched gaze settles scrutinizingly on Devon. Without saying anything, the battered Philodox limps over toward an armchair and drops himself into it.

Regardless of the book in his lap, there's no question that Flint is listening to everything else occurring in the breakroom, even if from a distance, and quietly. It's open, and his finger marks his spot, but he's no longer looking at it.

Devon's hand lowers again, almost going to rest on the table. It's placed in his lap instead, like the other, fingers curling into the grimy fabric of his jeans. "I walked past him, into the alley. He asked what I was doing there. Told him I was on my way home though it wasn't any business of his. He told me I was in his place." He glances up when Kavi and Salem enter, teeth catching his lip while he pauses. His eyes flick back to Mouse as he takes a breath to continue. "So I apologized for my lack of manners and he attacked. Stabbed me in the gut, and we fought, sort of grappled a little. I got the knife and tore out his throat. The… body's there, in the darkest part of the alley, where all the blood was when I got there."

Mouse only takes her gaze from Devon for the briefest of acknowledgments toward her entering tribemates—a nod each, and then she's looking back at the cub. "Tell me about your mistakes. What do you think you could've done better?"

Kavi tenses at the description, and his gaze shifts briefly to Salem. As Mouse questions Devon, the galliard moves to find a seat by the computer.

Salem's eyes narrow slightly, and his mouth thins out. He shifts his weight in the chair, stretching out his right leg, and fishes in his jacket for his cigarettes.

"Should've gone armed and armored," Devon answers almost immediately. "Armed at the very least, not knowing what to expect."

Mouse says nothing. She continues looking at him, expectant, expression a complete, indecipherable mystery.

Kavi's brows furrow, and he looks from one to the other.

Salem's cigarette smells absolutely foul. His gaze remains fairly steady on Devon, though there's a moment when it shifts briefly over toward Flint, as if marking him.

Devon's gaze ticks over to Kavi and Salem again, though still remains no longer than just a half beat each. His attention returns to Mouse, eyes resting on the elder for a moment then lowering to an obscure point on the table. "Using claws would have been faster and eliminated any need for conventional weaponry," he says quietly, explaining his logic behind his answer, "but I was trying to keep a low profile. Bad enough to risk shifting into Glabro, but if anyone had happened by they'd've seen two guys fighting instead of a guy and a monster."

"It took two homeless people for you to realize something was up," Mouse says neutrally. "Next time, strive to make it one, or best, zero. Now, the body. Did you use claws, or teeth? Does it look like an animal killed him, or a particularly savage knife fight?"

Kavi's expression smooths, and he looks to Devon for his answer. With one hand, he reaches out to the monitor of the computer beside him, silently turning it on.

Flint is paying at least a little attention to his book now, and the page is turned several times, but the young cub does look up at intervals, gaze resting mostly on Kavi.

Salem methodically taps ash from the end of his cigarette into a convenient ashtray.

Devon flinches visibly with the mistake pointed out, nodding after a moment. "No claws or teeth. Knife went in here," he pauses to point in approximation, under his chin and near his throat. "Came out sort of perpendicular to his throat. Here." His hand moves to the side of his neck, where the blade had sliced free of the ghoul's throat.

Mouse's lips thin as she removes her cigarette, and then she gives Devon a rather feral looking smile. "Well, Cliath, I think you'd better go mop up all that blood on you, don't you agree?"

Kavi looks, then, from Devon to Mouse, and the hint of a smile touches his lips. He looks back to the ahroun, and the smile shows for real, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes.

Salem just nods a little; his expression hardly changes and is difficult to read.

Flint grins slightly, though his head is once more inclined to the reading material in his lap.

Devon looks up at Mouse, the surprise barely quelled from his expression. He sinks backward to slouch in his chair, hands raising to rub over his face. A nod follows when his hands drop again, a look over his shoulder directed to the bathroom he'd been headed toward just moments before, body following as he twists out of the chair to stand.

Mouse's grin is more natural now, more good natured. "Scrub thoroughly, Red-Hands-Wield-the-Knife. And any blood you tracked in here, too!" She's cheerful now, though, as she leans over to stub out her cigarette and then sweeps a hand toward Flint. "'Ey, Jack, Kavi. Cub, Jack Salem, Jack Salem, brand new cub."

Kavi rises from his seat and though his smile diminishes some from its initial level, it's still present. "Congratulations, Red-Hands-Wield-the-Knife," he says with a slight bob of his head.

Salem, meanwhile, focusses his gaze back on Flint. "Yes," he says, after a moment. "He does look rather raw."

At the mention, Flint closes the book again, setting it approximately where it had been so as to look up. A respectful nod is given at Mouse's introduction, but he remains silent, only pushing back the hair out of his face and redoing the tie that keeps it partially under control.

Devon pauses in his retreat to scrub clean of the day's activities, looking first at Mouse and then at Kavi. "Thank you," he says to both, head tipping forward a little. "Thank you."

Mouse points at the bathroom. "Scrub!" Her tone is still light, though she's clearly not making a suggestion. And to Flint, "Introduce yourself, kid. You need to get used to doing that."

Almost on top of Mouse, Kavi turns to Flint, and though his words are softer, quieter, they're no less urgently spoken. "Your introduction. Like we talked about."

Salem takes a long drag on the foul-smelling cigarette and looks expectant.

Flint looks up at Kavi, and nods. For all of that, though, introducing himself doesn't seem to be coming easily to the boy, and there's a good two false starts before he actually manages to say anything, and when he does, it's quiet. "Flint." A pause, and his gaze focuses near Kavi again when he continues, before focusing once more on his lap. "Takes-It-All-In-Stride."

Devon nearly trips over his own feet as he hastens to do as told, disappearing into the bathroom to the sound of water running behind a closed door.

Mouse fishes a cigarette out of a rather battered, nearly empty pack, and lights up. She grins briefly at the sound of running water. "Auspice and tribe," she reminds Flint.

Kavi remains silent, this time, but there's a slight frown, a slight look of disappointment to the galliard's expression.

Flint's continued answer, at the prodding, is just as quiet as the first part, and perhaps just as halting, sentences forgone for expediency. "Galliard." A pause. "Glass Walkers." One knee is drawn up to his chest, arms linked around it.

"Very raw," Salem mutters, then sits up a bit and gives his own introduction. "Jack Salem, called Scar. Philodox of the Glass Walkers." It comes out as natural as breathing.

"It's been, hell, three days?" Mouse doesn't seem entirely sure, or entirely concerned about the number. "He got a peek at Devon's rite last night though, and Kavi's teaching him." She slides off of her seat. "I get you two anything? I'd offer icecream, but Doodle said she needed it," there's a slight, amused stress on 'needed', "so I bet it's gone."

"We'll practice," Kavi says, either to Mouse or to Flint, it isn't clear. More obviously to Mouse, he adds, "There's ziti. Rina made more, last night."

Salem grimaces, looking irritable for a moment. "That lupus is a goddamned glutton."

Flint nods at Kavi's words, or perhaps Mouse's, before laying his head on his knee, just watching. The book, too, is picked back up and put in his lap, one hand resting on it like it might disappear if he doesn't.

"Yep." Mouse seems to have no argument. She crosses to the freezer and pulls out the promised ziti, her movements just being a little stiffer than usual. "I told her to get a group together and do a little Umbral cleaning, the other night. And I was just at Lefty's—she's got some building plans and shit, from Hanford."

Kavi watches the cub for a moment, but at something in Mouse's words, he turns his attention back to her. There's a sharpness of focus, and a more obvious biting back of words.

"Building plans?" Salem asks, an eyebrow raised.

Mouse nods. "I didn't study them too closely, and they're…uh, the originals, she said. So they might not even still be accurate. Still, we can cross-reference with anything else we dig up. Oh, and…tunnels." That last word is said a little hesitantly. "Twenty years ago, there were a whole lot of tunnels underneath it. When it was a Hive, I presume." There's more tension to her movements now, there's no hiding it. She pulls out three plates, and begins warming up the ziti. If she notices Kavi's focus, she gives no sign.

The water shuts off, and the bathroom door opens. Significantly more clean than he was, though a change of clothes would finish the work, Devon reappears. He drags a hand through his hair, glancing from one Garou to the next.

Flint rests his head on his knee still, a bit of a sideways nod given when Devon reappears. It's easy enough to notice he's paying attention, still, and only a little of the anxiety that had gotten his tongue is still visible in his posture.

Kavi glances to Devon as the door opens again, but it's just a quick glance, and most of his attention remains on Mouse.

"It's a start," Salem says, stabbing out his cigarette. "We should find out if anyone or thing is still using those tunnels."

"After twenty years?" Mouse says, thinly. "I don't think it's a matter of 'if'." She seems to shake it off, a little, as she pulls out a fourth plate. "Make sure you didn't track any blood in on the floor," she says, presumably to Devon. She brings Kavi and Salem plates. Flint gets a plate. The other plate is set in the microwave.

Devon murmurs a 'yes, ma'am', taking himself across the break room and out into the hall, retracing his steps to the stairs and out.

Looking up, and for just an instant meeting Mouse's gaze, Kavi takes the plate and then offers a nod of thanks. He doesn't, however, seem inclined to start eating just yet.

Food is enough to make Flint put aside the book, and though still quiet, there's no hesitation in quietly thanking the elder. Nor any hesitation to pick up his fork after the plate has been balanced on his knee, though the cub eats slowly and carefully.

Salem takes the plate and excuses himself, presumably to eat in private.