Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2012-03-22 03:03 pm
flint_garou) wrote2012-03-22 03:03 pm
Entry tags:
Flint hangs with Nik.
So, this is Lex's boss…
22 March, 2012
The moon is in the waning New (Ragabash) Moon phase (2% full).
It's just after lunchbreak that finds the Coffee house generally empty save for their one die hard customer. Nik is where he is usually, in the back, reading a magazine and enjoying his mug of brew. He looks somewhat different to those who know him, and several people have already commented on his lack of goatee. He rubs at his chin every so often as if uncomfortable with the choice.
Today's one of those exploration of newly-enough-found freedom days, and it brings Flint to a rather late lunch as the Glass Walker slips in the door, a futile attempt to silence it behind him as he looks about, and moves over to the counter to order coffee and a sandwich. There's a momentary glance at Nik, but no recognition yet.
Nik glances up briefly as someone else enters the store. He squints a moment, as if trying to place the face. He himself is not hard to miss as either family or someone who's gotten into a nasty industrial accident, as his sleeves are rolled up to help him keep cool, exposing those crisscrossing scars.
Flint waits, leaning against the counter, a grey knitted hat pulled down a little to obscure his face under the scrutiny, and when his coffee's ready, then the teenager looks over at Nik. Coffee cup is grasped in both hands and the teen offers a nod before walking over, as if Nik will be easier to recognise from less distance. And then, there's a flash of actual recognition, as well as, "Mind company?"
Nik gestures to the seat opposite him. "I suppose. Though I was half hoping anyone who asked that wouldn't remind me my life is much more complicated than a mere shop worker out for a cup of joe." He smiles a little. "Remind me what your name is again?" he asks, apologetic.
The teen raises his brows and grins, then setting his coffee down before he sits. "Flint," he responds, pitch lowered such that it'd be hard to eavesdrop. "An', sorry." The apology is half-offered, halfway joking. "You're Nik, yes?"
Nik nods. "Good seein ya again. You are one of the city folk, huh? Just talked with one of yours. Nieve?" He chuckles, setting aside his magazine. It's one about designer knives. "She's gonna be helping me out."
There's a nod in response. "Yeah, I am," Flint says, nodding. There's an abrupt pause in conversation as the teenager gets up to fetch his sandwich from the counter, returning rather quickly. "Neat. Nieve's good folk."
Nik takes another sip of his coffee. "Your boss get any new kids coming in?" he wonders, eyes on the Glasswalker. He shifts uncomfortably, rubbing again at his chin. He almost looks… well dressed without that goatee.
"We've got. There's one right now," Flint says, in between bites of sandwich. Clearly, lunch is slightly more important than conversation, and if Flint notices anything about the lack of the goatee, he's too polite to mention it. "She's doing alright. So far, parents are with it." Pause, and the sandwich is washed down by a gulp of coffee. "I heard. I heard Lex graduated." And the young Galliard sounds genuinely pleased by this.
Nik nods, twisting his mug absently against the grain of the table wood. "She did," he says, a small amount of pride infusing his voice. "As did our Philodox, Hayden. I take it you know Alex?" He looks at the boy with those mismatched eyes from beneath his brow. "I promised her I'd take her to see her parents when she did."
Flint nods, though there's a well-hidden twist of distaste at the mention of the halfmoon. "I do," Flint says, a smile replacing the previous expression, and volume of conversation pitched so it simply can't be overheard. "She and I. We fought the wyrmhounds together, with Mouse, and Nieve, before I. Before I graduated," Flint explains. "That is, if you forgot about those skull pigs. That never happened." An innocent smile flits across his face.
Nik's eye twitches only a bit at the mention of the pigs. "Never had such a goddamn problem with them in my life. I won't underestimate a baby anything ever again. And I've been eating bacon ever since. But that never happened," he agrees.
"Of course not," Flint says, inclining his head politely. "I didn' see it, either, since. Technically I was passed out through most of that and onl' saw the end." The young galliard grins. "If I never encounter them again it'll be too soon, though."
Nik nods his agreement, shoulders tightening. "What have you against Hayden?" he asks, peering down into his mug. Ah, so the look hadn't gone unnoticed by the Shadow Lord.
Flint frowns slightly. "Do you really. Do you want or need to know?" Flint asks, countering the question with a question, though once again it's respectful of the Shadow Lord alpha. "It's complicated. And might be better a. Not here," the Galliard concludes, quietly.
Nik lifts his shoulder in a shrug. "Fine. Just making sure it wasn't a small thing or misunderstanding that could be cleared up with an explanation from an unbiased source. She did well in her Rite, as I had heard."
The teen shakes his head, shrugs in response. "If it could, I'd be happier," he admits, "but the." And there's a faint gesture from Flint to his head. "They don't like her much. I'm glad she did well, and all. But."
Nik squints at that, his mouth tugging in a frown. "They…" And then he tilts his head, making an even deeper face. "Really? How many of your are there? Damn, I'm glad spirits don't haunt me."
Flint shrugs his shoulders a moment. "Not sure how many really, I dunno. Not so distinct as, as some," Flint explains further. "Half-opinions, things I… can't tell who, who said, remembering things that, that I didn't do, songs I don't know, that aren't now. I'm used to it but sometimes."
Nik frowns. "So you'd think you'd be able to relate," the Shadow Lord points out. "If it's so confusing and detrimental, would you imagine it's the same way for her? After all, her ancestor's tried to kill me, and I don't necessarily hold it against her."
"She doesn't. Didn't. Ever much seem interested in relating," Flint states, quietly. "I tried. I know it's confusing. And hard, sometimes, not… not to let the Garou in my head define me, let alone what she must go through."
Nik takes a deep breath, lips tightening a little. "I see. Well, can't always win them all over, can we?" He seems to have no more interest in delving into the relationship further. "She is no longer my responsibility in the fact that her decisions affect her alone, now."
Flint picks up his cup of coffee with a nod and a shrug. "But anyway, Lex an' I're friends, in enough of a sense," he returns to the more neutral topic with a faint grin. "She. Was going to see about introducing me t' her parents at some point. Because I. Mine aren't around, won't ever be." The last bite of sandwich is popped into Flint's mouth with ease.
Nik taps a fingertip on the table top. "You're a galliard," notes Captain Obvious. "It means another to keep my eye on when we go back there, because I promised her I wouldn't let her parents come to harm. They are our kinfolk after all." He looks at the boy from beneath lowered brows. "But the decision is invariably up to her. She's no longer a cub."
"I am. Which is why, on a small moon only, I wouldn't otherwise," Flint responds, easily, reassuring, setting down the empty coffee cup on top of empty plate. The young galliard seems at ease enough at the moment, in any case. "I know myself well enough and. Of course, Nik-rhya." A small, faint grin is offered over.
Nik chews the inside of his cheek. "Alright. If she wants it, she wants it. It's her family after all. Though we'll either have to do it soon or next cycle." His eyes flicker up, darkening a little as he sees people begin to filter in, most of them from the school just letting out.
Flint nods, and his phone buzzes in his pocket. "'Course. Lex and I're in touch, and." The teen's brows furrow as he pulls it out, flips it open, and reads the text message. Then looks up, down, and reads it again. "That's one've my bosses, I've gotta go." His voice holds a faint, restrained tinge of worry. "It. It was nice meeting you again, Nik-rhya," Flint adds, tucking his hands into his pocket as he picks up the plate and cup to return them to the counter. "Seeya around, or something."
Nik's eyes linger curiously on the cellphone, but when the Cliath takes his leave, he nods, lifting his coffee in a sort of "cheers" motion. "Let me know what you guys decide." And he's back to the magazine.
22 March, 2012
The moon is in the waning New (Ragabash) Moon phase (2% full).
It's just after lunchbreak that finds the Coffee house generally empty save for their one die hard customer. Nik is where he is usually, in the back, reading a magazine and enjoying his mug of brew. He looks somewhat different to those who know him, and several people have already commented on his lack of goatee. He rubs at his chin every so often as if uncomfortable with the choice.
Today's one of those exploration of newly-enough-found freedom days, and it brings Flint to a rather late lunch as the Glass Walker slips in the door, a futile attempt to silence it behind him as he looks about, and moves over to the counter to order coffee and a sandwich. There's a momentary glance at Nik, but no recognition yet.
Nik glances up briefly as someone else enters the store. He squints a moment, as if trying to place the face. He himself is not hard to miss as either family or someone who's gotten into a nasty industrial accident, as his sleeves are rolled up to help him keep cool, exposing those crisscrossing scars.
Flint waits, leaning against the counter, a grey knitted hat pulled down a little to obscure his face under the scrutiny, and when his coffee's ready, then the teenager looks over at Nik. Coffee cup is grasped in both hands and the teen offers a nod before walking over, as if Nik will be easier to recognise from less distance. And then, there's a flash of actual recognition, as well as, "Mind company?"
Nik gestures to the seat opposite him. "I suppose. Though I was half hoping anyone who asked that wouldn't remind me my life is much more complicated than a mere shop worker out for a cup of joe." He smiles a little. "Remind me what your name is again?" he asks, apologetic.
The teen raises his brows and grins, then setting his coffee down before he sits. "Flint," he responds, pitch lowered such that it'd be hard to eavesdrop. "An', sorry." The apology is half-offered, halfway joking. "You're Nik, yes?"
Nik nods. "Good seein ya again. You are one of the city folk, huh? Just talked with one of yours. Nieve?" He chuckles, setting aside his magazine. It's one about designer knives. "She's gonna be helping me out."
There's a nod in response. "Yeah, I am," Flint says, nodding. There's an abrupt pause in conversation as the teenager gets up to fetch his sandwich from the counter, returning rather quickly. "Neat. Nieve's good folk."
Nik takes another sip of his coffee. "Your boss get any new kids coming in?" he wonders, eyes on the Glasswalker. He shifts uncomfortably, rubbing again at his chin. He almost looks… well dressed without that goatee.
"We've got. There's one right now," Flint says, in between bites of sandwich. Clearly, lunch is slightly more important than conversation, and if Flint notices anything about the lack of the goatee, he's too polite to mention it. "She's doing alright. So far, parents are with it." Pause, and the sandwich is washed down by a gulp of coffee. "I heard. I heard Lex graduated." And the young Galliard sounds genuinely pleased by this.
Nik nods, twisting his mug absently against the grain of the table wood. "She did," he says, a small amount of pride infusing his voice. "As did our Philodox, Hayden. I take it you know Alex?" He looks at the boy with those mismatched eyes from beneath his brow. "I promised her I'd take her to see her parents when she did."
Flint nods, though there's a well-hidden twist of distaste at the mention of the halfmoon. "I do," Flint says, a smile replacing the previous expression, and volume of conversation pitched so it simply can't be overheard. "She and I. We fought the wyrmhounds together, with Mouse, and Nieve, before I. Before I graduated," Flint explains. "That is, if you forgot about those skull pigs. That never happened." An innocent smile flits across his face.
Nik's eye twitches only a bit at the mention of the pigs. "Never had such a goddamn problem with them in my life. I won't underestimate a baby anything ever again. And I've been eating bacon ever since. But that never happened," he agrees.
"Of course not," Flint says, inclining his head politely. "I didn' see it, either, since. Technically I was passed out through most of that and onl' saw the end." The young galliard grins. "If I never encounter them again it'll be too soon, though."
Nik nods his agreement, shoulders tightening. "What have you against Hayden?" he asks, peering down into his mug. Ah, so the look hadn't gone unnoticed by the Shadow Lord.
Flint frowns slightly. "Do you really. Do you want or need to know?" Flint asks, countering the question with a question, though once again it's respectful of the Shadow Lord alpha. "It's complicated. And might be better a. Not here," the Galliard concludes, quietly.
Nik lifts his shoulder in a shrug. "Fine. Just making sure it wasn't a small thing or misunderstanding that could be cleared up with an explanation from an unbiased source. She did well in her Rite, as I had heard."
The teen shakes his head, shrugs in response. "If it could, I'd be happier," he admits, "but the." And there's a faint gesture from Flint to his head. "They don't like her much. I'm glad she did well, and all. But."
Nik squints at that, his mouth tugging in a frown. "They…" And then he tilts his head, making an even deeper face. "Really? How many of your are there? Damn, I'm glad spirits don't haunt me."
Flint shrugs his shoulders a moment. "Not sure how many really, I dunno. Not so distinct as, as some," Flint explains further. "Half-opinions, things I… can't tell who, who said, remembering things that, that I didn't do, songs I don't know, that aren't now. I'm used to it but sometimes."
Nik frowns. "So you'd think you'd be able to relate," the Shadow Lord points out. "If it's so confusing and detrimental, would you imagine it's the same way for her? After all, her ancestor's tried to kill me, and I don't necessarily hold it against her."
"She doesn't. Didn't. Ever much seem interested in relating," Flint states, quietly. "I tried. I know it's confusing. And hard, sometimes, not… not to let the Garou in my head define me, let alone what she must go through."
Nik takes a deep breath, lips tightening a little. "I see. Well, can't always win them all over, can we?" He seems to have no more interest in delving into the relationship further. "She is no longer my responsibility in the fact that her decisions affect her alone, now."
Flint picks up his cup of coffee with a nod and a shrug. "But anyway, Lex an' I're friends, in enough of a sense," he returns to the more neutral topic with a faint grin. "She. Was going to see about introducing me t' her parents at some point. Because I. Mine aren't around, won't ever be." The last bite of sandwich is popped into Flint's mouth with ease.
Nik taps a fingertip on the table top. "You're a galliard," notes Captain Obvious. "It means another to keep my eye on when we go back there, because I promised her I wouldn't let her parents come to harm. They are our kinfolk after all." He looks at the boy from beneath lowered brows. "But the decision is invariably up to her. She's no longer a cub."
"I am. Which is why, on a small moon only, I wouldn't otherwise," Flint responds, easily, reassuring, setting down the empty coffee cup on top of empty plate. The young galliard seems at ease enough at the moment, in any case. "I know myself well enough and. Of course, Nik-rhya." A small, faint grin is offered over.
Nik chews the inside of his cheek. "Alright. If she wants it, she wants it. It's her family after all. Though we'll either have to do it soon or next cycle." His eyes flicker up, darkening a little as he sees people begin to filter in, most of them from the school just letting out.
Flint nods, and his phone buzzes in his pocket. "'Course. Lex and I're in touch, and." The teen's brows furrow as he pulls it out, flips it open, and reads the text message. Then looks up, down, and reads it again. "That's one've my bosses, I've gotta go." His voice holds a faint, restrained tinge of worry. "It. It was nice meeting you again, Nik-rhya," Flint adds, tucking his hands into his pocket as he picks up the plate and cup to return them to the counter. "Seeya around, or something."
Nik's eyes linger curiously on the cellphone, but when the Cliath takes his leave, he nods, lifting his coffee in a sort of "cheers" motion. "Let me know what you guys decide." And he's back to the magazine.