Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2012-05-03 12:16 pm
flint_garou) wrote2012-05-03 12:16 pm
Entry tags:
Getting out of the workshop a little.
That went well. Theoretically.
Flint has been rather scarce lately, for the most part splitting his time between the workshop and his apartment, but he has to emerge for food occasionally, and this is one of those times. Flint makes his way into the breakroom, glances to see that the dropcloth on the wall behind the computers hasn't been disturbed, and then heads straight for the fridge.
Kevin has been seen no more often than Flint, for that matter, but here he is now, sitting on the couch with his feet up on a chair, watching an episode of Lost. He turns his head as Flint comes in, and waves a hand somewhat vaguely in his direction. "Hey, man. Know what's going on in here? Have we been invaded by goths?"
Flint looks over at the dropcloth, and then, though it would seem that he tries not to, grins. "Oh, I forgot to, to put a note on there…" Flint says. "No, it. It's part of my project, Ishmael-rhya helped me with it, painting. Backdrop for the memorial I'm— that I'm working on." Then Flint does make it to the fridge, rummaging about until he comes out with several slices of pizza before he heads towards the couch to join Kevin.
"Ohhh. That." Kevin nods sagely, and hits pause on the remote control. "Made much progress on it,so far?"
Flint nods once. "A lot, actually. I have, one or two more pieces to finish, and the inlays, and…" the youth's attention turns to the wall with the backdrop on it, staring as if he doesn't even notice the backdrop actually there now. "I'll probably start putting it up, in two weeks, or so." A sigh follows. "I. I'd hoped Mouse-rhya would be back, by the time I finished." The words are quiet, perhaps acknowledgement that Flint knows that's unlikely to happen.
"I'm sure we all hope she will be back just as soon as her feet will carry her," Kevin says tightly, as if the subject is not a very comfortable one for the ragabash.
Flint doesn't press the matter, but just nods once, and then picks up the first of the three slices of pizza he's gotten, to eat. Very much as if the boy had downright forgotten about eating because he was so busy with his project.
"Is it just me," Kevin goes on, "or have you been away too? I can't remember seeing you in the last week, two weeks… maybe more…"
Flint chews the bite of pizza slowly. "I. I've been busy," the cliath says, just loudly enough to be audible. "I'm either, I've been in the workshop a lot, working on my project. Or. Or sleeping?" Flint glances at Kevin once, as he speaks.
Kevin shrugs. "Fair enough. Been busy myself. Been going round the edge of the bawn again, every damn step of it, to see if there's anything we missed when figuring out you-know-what. Negatory. Now trying to tell myself that a negative result is still a result."
Flint nods. "It is," Flint agrees. "I. It wasn't something we could avoid," he adds. "At least, not by all the things we did figure out. We'll… get through it."
"I wish it wouldn't take so damn long," Kevin snaps in a sudden outburst, slamming the remote down onto the arm of the couch with such force that the battery cover pops open and the two little cells fall out. Kevin curses and gets down onto the floor to retrieve them.
Flint just nods again, a sympathetic wince. "So do I," Flint says. His lips form a tight line, now, indicative of the overall unbidden tension he's feeling, and he finishes the piece of pizza he's holding before rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"But in the meantime, life goes on." Kevin climbs back into the chair. "You hear this about one of the Altimaris coming to town to set something up?"
This gets a shake of the head from the teen. "Like I said, been. Kinda focused on the project. Not. Not much else," Flint says, with a grin, "though I think, Ishmael-rhya said something about it a, a few times." Flint shrugs. "When I'm not either, working on it, or sleeping, I. I've been working on, on thinking about packing. Alexandra and I are, are going to." There's a hint of genuine warmth in the mention of the Shadow Lord's name.
"Alexandra… Alexandra… remind me…" Kevin rubs his forehead, as if he's too tired or too distracted for his memory to be working properly.
Flint picks up his last piece of pizza, though he doesn't take a bite yet. "Alexandra Morgan. She was a cub while I was, for a bit. Shadow Lord." And then Flint just pauses, fully expecting objection to this last part, and tips his head down to his lap, adding, "Lex is my friend. And. And so." Lips pull into a very tight line, eyes glancing over to Kevin to judge the ragabash's reaction.
Kevin's response is neither negative, nor even guarded. He simply says "Ah, yes. Alexandra. She was the polite one, wasn't she? Yeah, she seemed all right. When did she make cliath? And has the rude one graduated, too?"
"A little over a week after, after I did, give-or-take," Flint responds, and then nods. Manner eases a little, as well. "And yes, Hayden made cliath too. I— I haven't seen her much, though."
"Hayden, yeah, that was her name. Half moon. Total bitch. If she's not a cub any more," Kevin notes with what appears to be satisfaction, "next time she's rude to me I can smack her."
Flint laughs, quietly. "Still a, still a bitch, from what I've heard," the galliard notes. There's a hint of amusement at the idea of what Kevin suggests. "She'd deserve it, I. I'm sure."
"Not that I ever have many dealings with that tribe," Kevin adds, "there's been a certain coolness between us and them for the last few years… so if you're gonna pack with one, that's probably a good thing. Heal some rifts, ya know."
A nod. "Yeah. We… we're still looking for packmates, right now, but," Flint says, lifting his gaze from his lap, "I am. And, Lex and I work, really well together, and get along well, and so." At that, the teen pulls an iPhone out of his pocket, taking a moment to tap at the screen with the hand not covered in pizza grease, then puts the phone back away.
Kevin casually looks away from the phone and its screen. "Got a totem in mind, yet?" he enquires.
Flint considers the question for a moment, and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "We're thinking Wisdom, probably. But, we're… not sure, as to very much. A lot of we know what, what we don't want, but not so much what we… what we do."
Kevin smiles slightly. "Well, it's not as if you ever go into a totem quest entirely certain of what you'll get. It's like going into Walmart to buy a bag of M&Ms. You may come out with plain M&Ms, or peanut… or you may get a bag of Skittles instead… or you may come out with a tin of paint and a dozen rolls of duck tape. Never a dull moment, totem quests…"
Flint grins at the explanation. "Heh, yeah. We. It'll also, all our talking about it, only means so much not knowing who else, we'll end up packing with, I mean," Flint says, with a shrug.
Kevin says "Anyway," Kevin says, "I was just starting an episode of Lost. Wanna watch?" He hefts the remote invitingly towards Flint."
Flint glances up at the television, then nods. "Sure," he agrees. "Do me good to, not spend all my time in the workshop." The cliath settles down onto the couch, then, and lifts a shoulder to Kevin. "Shall we?"
Flint has been rather scarce lately, for the most part splitting his time between the workshop and his apartment, but he has to emerge for food occasionally, and this is one of those times. Flint makes his way into the breakroom, glances to see that the dropcloth on the wall behind the computers hasn't been disturbed, and then heads straight for the fridge.
Kevin has been seen no more often than Flint, for that matter, but here he is now, sitting on the couch with his feet up on a chair, watching an episode of Lost. He turns his head as Flint comes in, and waves a hand somewhat vaguely in his direction. "Hey, man. Know what's going on in here? Have we been invaded by goths?"
Flint looks over at the dropcloth, and then, though it would seem that he tries not to, grins. "Oh, I forgot to, to put a note on there…" Flint says. "No, it. It's part of my project, Ishmael-rhya helped me with it, painting. Backdrop for the memorial I'm— that I'm working on." Then Flint does make it to the fridge, rummaging about until he comes out with several slices of pizza before he heads towards the couch to join Kevin.
"Ohhh. That." Kevin nods sagely, and hits pause on the remote control. "Made much progress on it,so far?"
Flint nods once. "A lot, actually. I have, one or two more pieces to finish, and the inlays, and…" the youth's attention turns to the wall with the backdrop on it, staring as if he doesn't even notice the backdrop actually there now. "I'll probably start putting it up, in two weeks, or so." A sigh follows. "I. I'd hoped Mouse-rhya would be back, by the time I finished." The words are quiet, perhaps acknowledgement that Flint knows that's unlikely to happen.
"I'm sure we all hope she will be back just as soon as her feet will carry her," Kevin says tightly, as if the subject is not a very comfortable one for the ragabash.
Flint doesn't press the matter, but just nods once, and then picks up the first of the three slices of pizza he's gotten, to eat. Very much as if the boy had downright forgotten about eating because he was so busy with his project.
"Is it just me," Kevin goes on, "or have you been away too? I can't remember seeing you in the last week, two weeks… maybe more…"
Flint chews the bite of pizza slowly. "I. I've been busy," the cliath says, just loudly enough to be audible. "I'm either, I've been in the workshop a lot, working on my project. Or. Or sleeping?" Flint glances at Kevin once, as he speaks.
Kevin shrugs. "Fair enough. Been busy myself. Been going round the edge of the bawn again, every damn step of it, to see if there's anything we missed when figuring out you-know-what. Negatory. Now trying to tell myself that a negative result is still a result."
Flint nods. "It is," Flint agrees. "I. It wasn't something we could avoid," he adds. "At least, not by all the things we did figure out. We'll… get through it."
"I wish it wouldn't take so damn long," Kevin snaps in a sudden outburst, slamming the remote down onto the arm of the couch with such force that the battery cover pops open and the two little cells fall out. Kevin curses and gets down onto the floor to retrieve them.
Flint just nods again, a sympathetic wince. "So do I," Flint says. His lips form a tight line, now, indicative of the overall unbidden tension he's feeling, and he finishes the piece of pizza he's holding before rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"But in the meantime, life goes on." Kevin climbs back into the chair. "You hear this about one of the Altimaris coming to town to set something up?"
This gets a shake of the head from the teen. "Like I said, been. Kinda focused on the project. Not. Not much else," Flint says, with a grin, "though I think, Ishmael-rhya said something about it a, a few times." Flint shrugs. "When I'm not either, working on it, or sleeping, I. I've been working on, on thinking about packing. Alexandra and I are, are going to." There's a hint of genuine warmth in the mention of the Shadow Lord's name.
"Alexandra… Alexandra… remind me…" Kevin rubs his forehead, as if he's too tired or too distracted for his memory to be working properly.
Flint picks up his last piece of pizza, though he doesn't take a bite yet. "Alexandra Morgan. She was a cub while I was, for a bit. Shadow Lord." And then Flint just pauses, fully expecting objection to this last part, and tips his head down to his lap, adding, "Lex is my friend. And. And so." Lips pull into a very tight line, eyes glancing over to Kevin to judge the ragabash's reaction.
Kevin's response is neither negative, nor even guarded. He simply says "Ah, yes. Alexandra. She was the polite one, wasn't she? Yeah, she seemed all right. When did she make cliath? And has the rude one graduated, too?"
"A little over a week after, after I did, give-or-take," Flint responds, and then nods. Manner eases a little, as well. "And yes, Hayden made cliath too. I— I haven't seen her much, though."
"Hayden, yeah, that was her name. Half moon. Total bitch. If she's not a cub any more," Kevin notes with what appears to be satisfaction, "next time she's rude to me I can smack her."
Flint laughs, quietly. "Still a, still a bitch, from what I've heard," the galliard notes. There's a hint of amusement at the idea of what Kevin suggests. "She'd deserve it, I. I'm sure."
"Not that I ever have many dealings with that tribe," Kevin adds, "there's been a certain coolness between us and them for the last few years… so if you're gonna pack with one, that's probably a good thing. Heal some rifts, ya know."
A nod. "Yeah. We… we're still looking for packmates, right now, but," Flint says, lifting his gaze from his lap, "I am. And, Lex and I work, really well together, and get along well, and so." At that, the teen pulls an iPhone out of his pocket, taking a moment to tap at the screen with the hand not covered in pizza grease, then puts the phone back away.
Kevin casually looks away from the phone and its screen. "Got a totem in mind, yet?" he enquires.
Flint considers the question for a moment, and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "We're thinking Wisdom, probably. But, we're… not sure, as to very much. A lot of we know what, what we don't want, but not so much what we… what we do."
Kevin smiles slightly. "Well, it's not as if you ever go into a totem quest entirely certain of what you'll get. It's like going into Walmart to buy a bag of M&Ms. You may come out with plain M&Ms, or peanut… or you may get a bag of Skittles instead… or you may come out with a tin of paint and a dozen rolls of duck tape. Never a dull moment, totem quests…"
Flint grins at the explanation. "Heh, yeah. We. It'll also, all our talking about it, only means so much not knowing who else, we'll end up packing with, I mean," Flint says, with a shrug.
Kevin says "Anyway," Kevin says, "I was just starting an episode of Lost. Wanna watch?" He hefts the remote invitingly towards Flint."
Flint glances up at the television, then nods. "Sure," he agrees. "Do me good to, not spend all my time in the workshop." The cliath settles down onto the couch, then, and lifts a shoulder to Kevin. "Shall we?"