The full moon's not good for talking.
Tuesday, 3 July 2012 18:19![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flint_garou"I asked you a question." "Really? Because it felt more like an insult than a question."
3 July, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (98% full).
Flint's set up in the breakroom with a few large sheets of paper at the dining room table, a few pencils, and a half-finished drawing that seems to be mainly abstract circuitry, when Kavi comes in. The basic explanations of the rite had been earlier in the day, and time arranged for demonstration and teaching, and the younger galliard waits for the older to sit before going through it all again. The half-finished drawing of circuitry turns into one with jagged and broken edges, and the paper's torn in a few places when Flint is done. "See, it. It's about channeling the Rage, not just," he says, looking over at Kavi once more. "It. It's that that makes it work, that allows it to work. And the spirits help, more of the time, if you do it, right." Flint looks down at his hands, then, nearly entirely covered in pencil-marks, and huffs quietly. "It's not. Exactly the same, with. With using music. You might talk to Kaz-rhya, at some point? She. She does it with music. But it. It's still, mostly." The cliath purses his lips and falls silent, then.
Kavi nods again, and pulls his own notebook closer. With the stub of a pencil he adds in another measure, quarter notes and eighth notes sweeping upward through the staff. Then he closes the book and stuffs the pencil back down into the spiral binding. "I think I understand."
Riley's entrance is without any particular fanfare, but the state of her person does tend to make it noteworthy, even if she's just marching over to the fridge. Clad in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, her hair sticking up and out at unimaginable angles, Riley looks like she's just crawled out of a JRPG. A very unfashionable, and very sweaty JRPG, from the streaks of perspiration along her back and neckline. Flint and Kavi aren't spared more than a glance as she yanks the fridge open, pulls out a container of orange juice and noisly tugs down a glass from the cupboard, filling it with pulpy goodness and immediately kicking it back.
Flint nods to Kavi. "Good," Flint says, quietly, looking down at the drawing for a moment before straightening the mess he's made on the table, and then he glances to Riley, ducking a polite nod of greeting. Addressing the older Galliard again, Flint continues. "It. It helps. It's hard, but it helps."
Kavi looks up when Riley enters, and as the fostern heads through to the kitchen, the galliard rises. He looks once to Flint, but then his attention focuses on the ragabash. "I need to talk to you," he says, struggling already to keep the anger out of his tone, though he largely succeeds.
Riley flicks her eyes immediately in Kavi's direction, but doesn't stop tilting the glass back. Nope, the glass is chugged outright, throat contracting through large gulps of the drink. When she finally sets the glass down, Riley's brows knit and she cranes her head to one side. Her voice is the slightest bit raspy, "Can it wait until morning? Morning would be better." A worn smile, and Riley runs her fingertips through sweaty hair. "…Sorta only came down for a drink in between nightmares, you know?" She leans slowly back against the counter, shrugging, "If it's important though, jump right into it."
Flint rises as well, and the cliath moves to stand behind and to one side of Kavi, lips drawing into a thin line.
Kavi gives a shake of his head. "It can't wait." He pulls in a breath and holds it for a beat, lips pressed tightly together. As the breath slips away, he gestures to the couch. "It would be better if you sit, though."
Finding herself on the receiving end of two tight, unamused expressions, one of Riley's brows slowly works its way up. "O—-kay." She turns, impatiently snagging the container of orange juice and her emptied glass, bringing both along with her as she drops down onto the couch. She sets the glass between her knees, shakes the container for good measure, and pours herself another serving, "Someone mind telling me what this is about? I don't like the 'sit down' chats." Her eyes snap momentarily from Kavi to Flint, "Is someone dead?"
Flint moves over to lean against the wall, and the cliath watches Kavi, for the most part, not Riley, and the older galliard's anger, then considers. "It," Flint says, pitching his voice to normal conversational level if not one more, "It would. How about we all sit, Kavi-rhya? Please?"
Kavi glances briefly to Flint as he speaks, and there's a slight tightening around his eyes. He turns back, following Riley, to sit on the chair across from him. His posture is anything but relaxed, however, with a straight back and his hands nearly gripping his knees. "What you said to the cub," he begins, without preamble, "was wrong. It was…" He swallows, jaw clenched. "It was hurtful. It was harmful."
Flint nods once, and then moves to sit on the floor. Still slightly behind and to one side of Kavi, however unintentionally marking where the younger galliard feels he stands in things.
The moon is full. Naturally, this is the perfect time for this conversation to be happening. Riley leans back against the couch with her glass clutched in both hands, the carton abandoned on the floor by her feet. Kavi's words draw Riley's brows up, where they knit. "'What I said to the cub'." She sucks momentarily at her incisors as though struggling to come up with the phrase in question. "Oh. Ohoho, right. Man, you're right. That was pretty outlandish. Telling her the truth like that instead of treating her like an infant."
The effort it takes Kavi to remain seated is obvious, and for just an instant, his hands come off his knees. One closes into a fist, and even as he brings them back, the clenched fist remains. "Your truth? Not the truth. She is not a normal cub. You were told that. You were told to treat her gently. She doesn't have to be anything, right now. And I won't let you hurt her, or cause her more pain."
Flint scoots forward, sitting next to and in front of Kavi now, and there's a look, concerned, back over his shoulder. "Easy," he murmurs, very quietly.
Riley's eyes squint, her facial features tightening to match everyone else's in the room, "Yeah, that's all well and good. Let's just cuddle all of her traumas away. I'm sure eventually she'll come 'round once she figures out that we don't have an ulterior mo— oh, well shit, that sort of fucks that, doesn't it?" Riley leans sharply forward to deposit her glass of orange juice on the table. "There's a difference, you know. Between being compassionate and being condescending. She's not stupid enough to miss it, either."
Kavi is up out of his seat by the time Riley suggests cuddling traumas. Both hands are clenched, now, and he leans forward, teeth bared. "If you think that's all there is? That all we are is tools? Pawns? Soldiers? You don't deserve to be called fostern! My ulterior motive is her healing enough to be able to make her own choices. And if all you can offer her is more pain? More threats and bullying and torture? STAY AWAY FROM HER!"
Flint pushes to crouch, not between the two, but eventually stands. "Kavi-rhya," he says, quietly and levelly. "We're talking. Not." Riley, however, is on the receiving end of just about as sharp a look as Flint can manage while still being respectful.
"I think you're missing the fucking point, Kavi-rhya." Riley immediately snaps back, though she at least stays seated. It's clear that her hackles are raised from that rank-related quip, though. "But if you want to shove words into my mouth, feel free to have the rest of this little 'talk' on your own. You know. Since you've so clearly mapped out exactly what my intentions were."
Kavi remains standing, his form trembling slightly. He looks to Flint, and draws in a breath in response to the cliath's words. His fingers flex and clench again, slowly releasing some of the rage as he lets the breath out in a controlled hiss. "Whatever your intentions," he says, his voice now quiet but not at all soft. "What you said did more harm than good. Your words were bullying. Threatening. And I won't let you do that, again."
Salem appears in the doorway to the breakroom, his posture a deceptive slouch, his step near-silent. Thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, he stands there, observing silently for the moment.
Flint folds his arms across his chest, and then looks at Riley, a little sharper. The general tension is getting to the cliath, too. "Riley-rhya," Flint says, tone reflecting the general mood, a different emphasis on the honorific than the fostern had just earlier used, but emphasis nonetheless. "You're making assumptions, not—" and Flint goes silent, a nod of greeting to Salem.
Riley is sitting very, very still now, her eyes narrowed to the point that little enough is visible of them. "That's … a way of looking at it." She all but grinds out. Her fingers are flexing, burying and unburying along the thighs of her sweatpants. "Another way of looking at it, is that you've been trying it your way for over a week, and she hasn't calmed down a fucking ounce, and what's 'best' for her seems to be putting this entire building at risk while you outright lie to the girl and don't teach her."
The trembling increases as the adren galliard goes otherwise very, very still. There is no movement from him, no word, no sound, and his eyes shut tight with the effort of containing himself.
Salem gives Flint a little nod in return, but his attention's mostly on Kavi and Riley. His lips thin as he steps into the breakroom, calmly moving closer to the pair. "Easy," he says to the other Adren, quietly, and then he looks at the Ragabash. "Riley… how many traumatized cubs have you raised to cliathhood?" The halfmoon's voice is calm, no obvious steel in it, his Rage under firm control.
Flint takes a few steps forward, putting himself in front of Kavi, between Kavi and Riley, and attention is on the elder galliard. "Kavi-rhya," Flint says, the calm and level tone of voice again, "easy, yeah?"
The young woman may be seething with indignation, but she's also not blind. One doesn't live especially long by ignoring the signs of someone being pushed too far. Riley draws in a slow, steadying breath, flicking her tongue briefly over her teeth. "We—" Salem gets his words in at about the same time, and her attention is drawn to him, cutting off her train of thought entirely. She bristles immediately under the implication of his words, responding only with a measured frown for a moment, "What rousing successes has Kavi's methods turned out? I was gone, if you'll remember."
Kavi gives a curt nod to Salem, and again to Flint. "I. I'll come back," he says, and turns to walk out the door and down the long hall.
Salem reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and takes out his cigarettes and lighter. Tapping out a smoke, he says, "Kavi's methods are similar to my methods, and my methods have shown success." He lights the foul-smelling cigarette, takes a drag, then puts the rest of the pack, along with the lighter, away. "I had a cub, once, who was fifteen going on ten. Emotionally stunted, terrified of nearly everything, completely unable to even contemplate fighting. My elder kept pressuring me to cull him. I refused." He takes another drag. "Cat took longer than most cubs, but he lived, and Rited, and fought the Wyrm."
Once Kavi has walked out of the room, Flint looks down at the floor, takes a few steps back and away. And then he moves to standing behind Salem to one side, otherwise staying well and out of the conversation.
"I don't know what the fuck prompted this little outburst of…" She waves her arms in the direction of the doorway, "His, but it sure as fuck wasn't me bullying or threatening the cub." Riley frowns, tightly crossing her arms, "All I did was tell her the truth as it came up. She scoffed at the idea of 'bad guy' Garou, so I told her about them. And when she said that we've been telling her we're just going to 'teach her some things and let her go', I corrected that too. How in the hell is lying to her going to help anything along?"
Salem takes another long drag and lets it out with a sigh. "There's being honest, Riley, and there's feeding someone information that they are not ready to digest. And that is even assuming that she was actually told that we'd simply send her on her way without the tools with which to defend herself."
"Yeah, well, I don't agree with that." Riley curtly states. "The facts are the facts, and they're not going to change just because she's been locked up in some terribly abusive —- thing!" Riley leans forward to retrieve her abandoned glass of orange juice to take a small sip, her frown—but not her vitriol—remaining fixed on Salem. "The fact that we're even entertaining her thoughts of walking out of here as Ronin—as a cub, or Cliath? That's sick."
Rina comes in, dressed in loose yoga clothes, the sort of thing she wears around the place lately—just, since Ex's arrival, with a .45 as well. "Ronin?" Her face lights as she comes through the door and sees Salem.
Salem raises an eyebrow. "Who said she was going to walk out a Ronin?"
Riley snaps, "She thinks that we're going to teach her to control her frenzies and then let her walk off."
Flint's chin juts up a little, the cliath's shoulders tense, and then there's a nod to Rina as she enters. "Doesn't mean that. One thing at a time, things. To tell her when. When telling her. Does any good." Flint swallows, and goes quiet. "Not all at once."
Salem lowers his head for a moment and takes another drag on his cigarette. His good eye shifts toward Rina, resting on her for a moment before turning back to the Ragabash. "Riley. Allow me to put this simply. Which is more important to you, you being right or Rogue being healed?"
Rina wrinkles her nose at Salem, but the subject brings a tightness to her face. She takes a deep breath, and stands back to watch them.
Riley glares daggers at Flint, "Yeah, you know that thing? That thing I've been saying this whole fucking time? That's not just 'not telling her something'. That's lying to her fucking face. You're dangling a little treat for her, and…" Salem's commentary earns him his first scowl of the evening, and she doesn't respond to the question.
"I asked you a question." Salem's voice is very calm, his mismatched gaze steady on Riley.
"Really? Because it felt more like an insult than a question." Riley grinds her teeth, "My priority is treating her like she deserves to be treated. The way I feel she would prefer to be treated. With some basic fucking dignity. This slow-drip of information? You're treating her like a wounded animal, not a person. You're all but clicker-training her."
Rina tenses, a flash of anger on her face as she watches Riley speak. Her expression is grim.
Flint glares right back at Riley, but the cliath is silent.
Salem's scarred face hardens. There's a short moment before he answers. A heartbeat or two, heavy and cold. "I disagree," he says at last. "Kavi disagrees. Rina disagrees. And you can be damned certain that all three of us have had more experience healing the broken than you." He takes another drag, exhales foul-smelling smoke. "So. Until and unless you're willing to fall in line, you're going to stay the fuck away from her. You will not speak to her or interact with her in any way. If you do, I will beat your fucking brains in." He says that last so calmly, but it's clear he means it. There's no warmth there. "This will be the situation until and unless Kavi or I say otherwise. Is that clear?"
Thump-SMACK-Roll-Crash! Riley's foot jerks out and contacts the table in front of her, jostling the glass of orange juice onto it's side and dumping the sticky drink all over the table. The glass then swiftly rolls its way to the edge and crashes to the floor, shattering. The ragabash stands, her expression tight. Her gaze shifts from Flint, to Rina, and settles on Salem. "Crystal." Of course, this being Riley, she can't let it just end there. "Any other basic things I should try to avoid? Should I cover the power outlets with the little plastic thingies? Maybe I'll buy one of those little room separators so she doesn't fall down the stairs?"
At the far end of the hallway, the door to Kavi's apartment opens and closes again.
Salem's fist snaps out, cobra-quick, at Riley's face.
Flint tenses, and then just takes a step back, moving over towards Rina and to give Salem and Riley some space. There's a low grumble, Flint shoving his hands into his pockets.
If nothing else, she does make for a satisfying punching bag. Her head lashes to the side and she staggers back a step. Her fingers curl into tightened fists as she snaps her head back 'round to regard Salem almost immediately. Her glower is diminished slightly by the awkward angle of her nose and the blood dribbling down her face. "Flea collar?" She suggests.
"That's enough, Riley," Rina says, very quietly. She watches the tall young woman and Salem, her posture holding tense readiness.
Salem's expression turns dead cold. His control on his Rage is iron… but his anger is very obvious. "Get out," he says to Riley. "Out of this room, off this floor, out of this building. And if you say another fucking word, I will rip your fucking tongue out and shove it right the fuck up your ass."
Rina steps adroitly out of the way, staying close to Flint.
Flint watches what goes on, keeping what might be conscious control on breathing levelly and evenly. "So much for talk," he murmurs, very quietly, glancing to Rina.
Riley meets Salem's words with a tight frown. She drags the sleeve of her shirt against the blood smearing her upper lip, briefly stands there sucking at an incisor before shaking her head and walking from the room. Rage is clearly bubbling up around the surface, but she holds it together long enough to reach the door, walk through it.
"It's not a good time'a the month f'talkin'," Rina says quietly. Her gaze settles on Salem, the look in her eyes slightly pained.
Salem's good eye tracks the Ragabash out. He curses in Serbian when Riley's gone, muttering, "The last fucking word. They always have to have the last fucking word."
Flint grimaces, and nods. "Not," he agrees, moving over to the table to neaten a pile of sketches and paper that's there, still, and then to the kitchen, getting a dustpan and glaring at the broken pieces of glass near the couch from Riley's drink.
Rina takes a slow, measured breath, and lets it out. Her lips curve in a rueful, slightly sad little half-smile. "I guess now wouldn't be the best timing for a hug, Jack. But it's good t'see ya."
Salem shakes his head a little, then exhales a breath, tucks back a stray lock of white hair, and limps over to the couch. "Likewise. God, what a mess."
Rina winces slightly at that sound. "You had dinner yet?" she asks Salem.
Flint wordlessly moves to clean up the broken glass, careful, though not careful enough to avoid getting a cut on his hand from it, which gets equally glared at as Flint stalks back to the kitchen, forcefully throwing the debris into the trashcan before he moves to lean against the counter, and just breathe.
Salem slouches onto the couch, stretching long legs with a grimace. Cigarette in hand, he massages his forehead with his fingertips. "I ate… earlier today. Not dinner."
Rina glances toward the doorway, and heads that way to call out into the hall. "C'mon in. Have some fuckin' ziti, yeah?"
Flint glances towards Rina as she moves, but remains leaning against the counter, focus mostly turned inward for the moment, shoulders drawn in a very, very tight line.
Rina heads to the kitchen to get something from the freezer; she turns on the oven and leans her back against the counter.
Salem leans his head back and continues to smoke, looking more than a little weary.
Ex stalks in after Kavi, eyeing each occupant of the breakroom narrowly. By far, Salem gets the longest look, and her eyes clearly settle on the ruined half of his face. She's fidgety, a little sweaty around the forehead and the bridge of her nose. When she's done eyeing the Philodox, she jerks her head around to peer toward the ziti.
Kavi takes a breath, and then another, as he enters, eventually following Rina into the kitchen area. "Thank you," he whispers to her as he closes the distance. "Can I… How can I help?"
Flint takes a deep breath, and moves over to the fridge. "Anything to. Salem-rhya, Kavi-rhya. Anything to drink, while I'm? Rina, Ex?" The question's a bit disjointed, but given as Flint's pulling out a beer for himself, the meaning probably gets across well enough.
Salem exhales foul-smelling cigarette smoke and studies X, his expression neutral. Sitting up, he crushes the cigarette out in an ashtray and answers Flint. "Beer if there's beer. Water if there isn't."
"Hey, Ex," Rina says casually, and then the oven beeps. She turns to put the pan in.
Ex's lip tugs away from her teeth. "How about a cup of complete fucking sentences?" she snaps, toward Flint. Her volume is minimal, but she doesn't need loudness to sound harsh. "You sound like you stuffed them in a garbage disposal and just said the words how they happened to pop out."
Kavi steps out of Rina's way when she moves, though he doesn't go far. Both brows rise at Ex's statement, and he looks in her direction, though nothing is said.
Rina tenses as she closes the oven, glancing over her shoulder to Flint.
Flint has gotten halfway back through rummaging through the fridge to get what Salem asked, when Ex speaks, and the door of the fridge is slammed open, perhaps a little further than it's supposed to go, as he stands there. Both bottles of beer clatter to the floor, crack, break, and then Flint just stands there, breathing very, very raggedly. "Shut." The word is growled out. "Up."
Salem inhales a breath and then lets it out. "It never changes," he says, addressing the ceiling. "It never really changes." There's a faint bit of weary amusement note in his voice. Just slightly.
Kavi whirls toward the sounds, immediately placing himself between the source and Rina. He breathes again, when Flint freezes, and though he doesn't move from his spot, he does look around until he identifies the location of the towels.
Ex's eyes flick from the broken beer to Flint. There's no flinch from her, no step backward. Notably, however, she doesn't actually say anything further, and her teeth are no longer visible.
Flint faces the fridge, still, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists and shoulders shaking with effort to contain himself.
"Breathe," Rina says softly. "You're good. You got it, Flint." She touches a hand to Kavi's arm.
Kavi turns at the touch to his arm, and looks to Rina. He nods, and finally takes a step away, moving to the towels to clean the mess. Still, his gaze returns frequently to Flint and to Rina.
Ex snorts, very softly.
Flint takes a step backwards and the refrigerator door creaks shut, a creak it definitely didn't have before. The cliath unclenches his fists, half-turns, and then all of the anger rises again, lips back from teeth, full-on glaring at Ex, and everyone else for that matter. There's no shift, though there's certainly all evidence of the rage boiling up.
"Ex," Rina says very quietly, calmly, "the full moon isn't a good time to push like this. You're riding the edge and feeling the moon right now. But so is everyone else in this room except me." She watches the young woman, focused.
Kavi turns to Flint, then. "Out," he tells him, and though the word is a command, his voice carries gentleness and caring. "Go out, until you feel calm." He once again places himself between cliath and kin, but appears ready to accompany Flint out the door, if necessary.
Salem remains seated, though his eye's on the confrontation, watching it keenly.
Ex goes from standing and staring to lunging in the blink of an eye. The poor table is what gets in her way, prevents her from full-body tackling Flint. She's not crinos, but her teeth are bared and her eyes are bright and wild, with both gloved hands clenched into tight fists and raised.
Ex also does this soundlessly, until she impacts with the table.
Flint growls, a strangled sound, but he's already picking feet up and walking out into the hallway, though his gaze rests a moment on the elder galliard, brows arching, a pause in his step. "Would—" The word is as strangled as the earlier sound, and then Flint full on bolts for the door, striding at double to triple the original pace straight through the doorway to the hallway.
Flint full on kicks one of the walls once he's out the doorway, and the floor, heavy thumping sounds.
As Flint heads out the door, Kavi gives a quick look around, and then follows. He doesn't speak, and he gives the younger galliard a wide berth, but he keeps himself between the cliath and the rest.
Flint has gotten halfway down the hall to his own apartment, and leans forehead against one wall, one fist as well from where he'd punched the wall. Not that the punching seems to have done anything save make the cliath's knuckles red. His breathing is steadier, though, and Kavi gets a glance without Flint actually turning his head.
Kavi continues after Flint and shakes his head. "Keep going," he says, more gently, now. "Take time. Take space. It's okay to be angry, to feel the rage of the moon. You need to be in control, too. Go draw. Or sing. Or shower it all away. And come back when it passes. When the memory isn't right in front of your eyes."
Flint nods, still leaning against the wall, and then tenses at the cub's words in the breakroom, and finally turns to look at Kavi. "She— I. Garbage disposal?" There's anger in Flint's voice, quiet as it is.
Kavi shakes his head. "Words," he says. "Go into your own space. Be alone. Do what you need to do to let it go, and come back when you're ready."
"Words!" Flint agrees, hitting the wall again, though there's less emphasis and force behind it this time. "Fuck words. Can't ever, I. I." Whatever it is the younger galliard is trying to say doesn't coalesce, though he takes another few steps towards his apartment and then kicks the floor again. "Devon, Riley, her, NO ONE LISTENS. All they hear is failed words!"
Kavi shakes his head, and points at Flint's apartment. "Go inside, Flint."
Flint draws in a deep, still slightly shaky breath and nods, moving over and opening the door to his apartment. The door is pushed shut behind him, though there's no telltale click of the lock. From inside, there's music turned on, loudly enough to leak into the hallway.
For a long moment, Flint just leans agains the doorway, shutting himself off as completely as he can from the packlink as well as everything else once he's gotten the music going, and then flops down onto the mattress. "Words," he mutters. "Fuck words. Not." His breathing evens, though, and he spends long minutes just staring at the ceiling of his apartment, drifting through the lyrics of the music.
Be the long awaited answer to a long and painful fight
Truth be told I tried my best
But somewhere along the way, I got caught up in all there was to offer
But the cost was so much more than I could bear.
The cliath taps his fingers on his knee in time with the music, then turns over, then turns over again. "Broken, failed words. FUCK WORDS."
Though I've tried,
I've fallen
I have sunk so low
I messed up
Better I should know
So don't come 'round here
And tell me I told you so.
Flint fumbles with the IR remote for the laptop for a moment, pointing it in a few more random directions before he actually gets it right, pushing the option button until he gets the one song to repeat. The lyrics drift, the music gets turned up a few times in volume. There's a look down at his palms, and he shifts, to glabro for the moment, letting himself forget, forcing himself to let go of the worst of the anger.
The song plays through several times and then Flint shuffles through to another, and then another, before he sits up and looks towards the door again. And past that, to where the breakroom is, though he keeps his motions deliberately slow and careful as he gets up, shifts down to his birth form, and moves over to pause the music on the computer.
Not long thereafter, the music that's been bleeding from Flint's apartment into the hallway stops, and there's the click of a door being opened.
Flint takes his time making it down the hallway, but eventually, he ends up in the doorway to the breakroom, though he doesn't step inside, yet. The cliath looks significantly more relaxed, though he's still tense, and there's a short glance over everyone inside, before Flint's gaze settles on Kavi, and he nods, once.
"He busted her face?" Ex looks toward Flint. Her eyes narrow further.
Kavi nods in answer, and glances across to Flint. There's a moment of question, there, but it goes unspoken, and he turns back to the cub. "He didn't frenzy. And if she shifts? She'll heal quickly. Like I showed you, the other day. But… But he wanted her to know he was serious. She didn't stop when she was supposed to, when enough was enough."
Flint looks to Kavi a moment longer, and there's another quick nod. He's okay, now. For the moment. The younger galliard diverts towards the kitchen. "I just," he says, very quietly, and pauses, taking a deep breath, then starts again, "food. A-a drink, then. I. I'll. I'll go again." The words, though with no less of the usual stammer and stutter, are slow and deliberate and enunciated very carefully.
Ex turns her head back to Kavi and starts to say something. She doesn't. Her mouth closes.
With a nod to Flint, Kavi turns back to the cub and offers a faint smile. "Yes," he says, his voice quite soft.
"Ziti should be ready." Rising, Rina goes to rinse towels in the sink.
Flint nods once, glancing to where there had been a mess on the floor, and then to Rina. "I. I'm sorry," he offers, to the kin—and perhaps to Kavi as well—moving to the refrigerator. It creaks when it opens, but this time at least, Flint manages to get himself a beer, and open it and take a long sip, all without incident.
Ex's response is an immediate, faint scowl.
Kavi looks to Flint at the statement and gives a simple nod in answer before turning his attention to Rina. "Do you want help?"
Rina murmurs, "It's fine," looking to Flint. "It's full moon," she says. "I got it, caro." Then she opens the open, gets out the ziti, and starts plating.
Flint leans against the counter, out of the way, a small tense smile edging onto his face, and takes another long sip of the drink. Perhaps thankfully, the cub's either not seen, or ignored.
Ex puts her head on the table, with her hands over her head, threading up through her short hair. She tugs at it.
Kavi looks between Ex and Flint, and though he doesn't speak, he appears to be weighing something, considering.
Rina brings the plates over to the table. "What's up, X?" she asks, laying out forks.
Flint moves to claim one of the remaining plates that Rina hasn't carried yet, a very short shake of his head, though for the moment, the cliath sets it on the counter next to where he leans rather than immediately retreating and leaving again.
Ex mumbles into the table, "I don't know."
Kavi sets his notebook aside again, and rises from his seat. He nods again to Flint, and gives a longer look to Rina, before he pulls down a pair of glasses and fills them with water from the creaky fridge.
Flint sets the bottle down on the counter and picks up his fork, eating rather more carefully than he often does, and still trying to be out of the way.
Drinks, food. Once everyone's set up, Rina comes to the table herself. Watching Ex, she says, "I need to go pick up art stuff, you want anything?"
Ex shakes her head without lifting it from the table. Her elbows are pressed against her cheeks.
Kavi brings the glasses, and sets one near enough to Ex that she can reach for it without difficulty, once she lifts her head. He looks to Rina, and reaches across to touch her hand before he takes up his fork. "I need a new pick," he says. "For the electric?"
Flint looks over at Rina, a moment. "If. Could you. I," the cliath says, drawing in a breath, "my sketchbook's near full, and this was the. My second. The spare. And. I. I'd appreciate it."
Looking to Kavi, Rina says, "What, I hafta go to that hippie music joint, too?" She flashes a teasing grin.
Ex suddenly pulls her head up from the table, grabs her glass, and jerks her hand back. She does not throw it, but only, noticeably, through a clear effort.
Flint sets his fork down, alert, quiet.
Kavi smiles at Rina, but the sudden violence in Ex's movement grabs his attention.
Rina's attention turns to X instantly. "Ex?"
Ex sucks a breath in through her teeth, and then slowly, carefully lowers the glass back down to the table.
"Y'oughta eat," Rina says softly.
Flint watches, a moment longer, before he reclaims the bottle of his drink, and takes another sip. And then sets it down again, moving silently to the fridge, save for the new creak of the door.
Ex grunts. She pulls her plate closer, and picks up the fork.
Kavi watches the glass until it once again reaches the table and then picks up his fork again to resume eating.
Flint isn't quite all the way done with his first drink yet, but he emerges from half-disappearing into the fridge with a second bottle that gets set aside on the counter anyway.
"What'd you do today?" Rina asks, her gaze steady on Ex a moment before she glances away. She eats casually.
Kavi lifts his gaze to the cliath, and his brow furrows slightly. "Flint? Maybe one is enough for tonight? Save the other for… when the moon is smaller?"
Ex shrugs at Rina's question. "Slept. Drew. Slept some more."
Flint glances at the second beer, and at the closed fridge, and then finally at Kavi. There's thought, and a very quiet murmur of, "Words," in explanation, but Flint nods, puts the drink back, and returns to eating.
"What'd you work on? Drawing, I mean." Rina munches away, entirely casual. As if this is some sort of normal dinner. With normal people.
Kavi returns to his own meal as the second beer is returned. His gaze shifts between the two women at the table, listening to the conversation without adding anything more of his own, at the moment.
Ex pauses with her fork just touching the noodles. Her mouth tugs into a deeper frown. "…Things."
Flint drains the last of the beer, moves to drop the bottle in the recycling, and glances to Kavi, then to the door of the breakroom.
Kavi sets his fork down, though he hasn't quite finished. "Do you draw— Do you plan what you're going to draw, before you start? When I'm playing? When I'm writing a new song? Sometimes I can almost hear it before I start to write it down."
Ex touches her tongue to her lower lip, eyes narrowing. "I draw what I see," she says slowly.
Flint picks up his plate, finishing off his food and then carrying the plate to the sink. "I. I'll," Flint says, after a moment. Plate thus dealt with, he goes back to the doorway of the breakroom. "Kavi-rhya, Rina, Ex. Goodnight."
"She's good," Rina says quietly. Rina looks across to Flint, thoughtfully. "Night, kiddo. Sleep tight."
"Stay safe," Kavi says to Flint with a nod, and then turns back to the others and nods. "Sometimes, when I'm trying to write something. For a purpose? It's harder than when I'm just writing what… what I feel."
Rina returns to eating, watching them talk.
Flint ducks a nod, and slips out of the breakroom and off down the hall. Not long after, a door opens, and shuts.
3 July, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (98% full).
Flint's set up in the breakroom with a few large sheets of paper at the dining room table, a few pencils, and a half-finished drawing that seems to be mainly abstract circuitry, when Kavi comes in. The basic explanations of the rite had been earlier in the day, and time arranged for demonstration and teaching, and the younger galliard waits for the older to sit before going through it all again. The half-finished drawing of circuitry turns into one with jagged and broken edges, and the paper's torn in a few places when Flint is done. "See, it. It's about channeling the Rage, not just," he says, looking over at Kavi once more. "It. It's that that makes it work, that allows it to work. And the spirits help, more of the time, if you do it, right." Flint looks down at his hands, then, nearly entirely covered in pencil-marks, and huffs quietly. "It's not. Exactly the same, with. With using music. You might talk to Kaz-rhya, at some point? She. She does it with music. But it. It's still, mostly." The cliath purses his lips and falls silent, then.
Kavi nods again, and pulls his own notebook closer. With the stub of a pencil he adds in another measure, quarter notes and eighth notes sweeping upward through the staff. Then he closes the book and stuffs the pencil back down into the spiral binding. "I think I understand."
Riley's entrance is without any particular fanfare, but the state of her person does tend to make it noteworthy, even if she's just marching over to the fridge. Clad in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, her hair sticking up and out at unimaginable angles, Riley looks like she's just crawled out of a JRPG. A very unfashionable, and very sweaty JRPG, from the streaks of perspiration along her back and neckline. Flint and Kavi aren't spared more than a glance as she yanks the fridge open, pulls out a container of orange juice and noisly tugs down a glass from the cupboard, filling it with pulpy goodness and immediately kicking it back.
Flint nods to Kavi. "Good," Flint says, quietly, looking down at the drawing for a moment before straightening the mess he's made on the table, and then he glances to Riley, ducking a polite nod of greeting. Addressing the older Galliard again, Flint continues. "It. It helps. It's hard, but it helps."
Kavi looks up when Riley enters, and as the fostern heads through to the kitchen, the galliard rises. He looks once to Flint, but then his attention focuses on the ragabash. "I need to talk to you," he says, struggling already to keep the anger out of his tone, though he largely succeeds.
Riley flicks her eyes immediately in Kavi's direction, but doesn't stop tilting the glass back. Nope, the glass is chugged outright, throat contracting through large gulps of the drink. When she finally sets the glass down, Riley's brows knit and she cranes her head to one side. Her voice is the slightest bit raspy, "Can it wait until morning? Morning would be better." A worn smile, and Riley runs her fingertips through sweaty hair. "…Sorta only came down for a drink in between nightmares, you know?" She leans slowly back against the counter, shrugging, "If it's important though, jump right into it."
Flint rises as well, and the cliath moves to stand behind and to one side of Kavi, lips drawing into a thin line.
Kavi gives a shake of his head. "It can't wait." He pulls in a breath and holds it for a beat, lips pressed tightly together. As the breath slips away, he gestures to the couch. "It would be better if you sit, though."
Finding herself on the receiving end of two tight, unamused expressions, one of Riley's brows slowly works its way up. "O—-kay." She turns, impatiently snagging the container of orange juice and her emptied glass, bringing both along with her as she drops down onto the couch. She sets the glass between her knees, shakes the container for good measure, and pours herself another serving, "Someone mind telling me what this is about? I don't like the 'sit down' chats." Her eyes snap momentarily from Kavi to Flint, "Is someone dead?"
Flint moves over to lean against the wall, and the cliath watches Kavi, for the most part, not Riley, and the older galliard's anger, then considers. "It," Flint says, pitching his voice to normal conversational level if not one more, "It would. How about we all sit, Kavi-rhya? Please?"
Kavi glances briefly to Flint as he speaks, and there's a slight tightening around his eyes. He turns back, following Riley, to sit on the chair across from him. His posture is anything but relaxed, however, with a straight back and his hands nearly gripping his knees. "What you said to the cub," he begins, without preamble, "was wrong. It was…" He swallows, jaw clenched. "It was hurtful. It was harmful."
Flint nods once, and then moves to sit on the floor. Still slightly behind and to one side of Kavi, however unintentionally marking where the younger galliard feels he stands in things.
The moon is full. Naturally, this is the perfect time for this conversation to be happening. Riley leans back against the couch with her glass clutched in both hands, the carton abandoned on the floor by her feet. Kavi's words draw Riley's brows up, where they knit. "'What I said to the cub'." She sucks momentarily at her incisors as though struggling to come up with the phrase in question. "Oh. Ohoho, right. Man, you're right. That was pretty outlandish. Telling her the truth like that instead of treating her like an infant."
The effort it takes Kavi to remain seated is obvious, and for just an instant, his hands come off his knees. One closes into a fist, and even as he brings them back, the clenched fist remains. "Your truth? Not the truth. She is not a normal cub. You were told that. You were told to treat her gently. She doesn't have to be anything, right now. And I won't let you hurt her, or cause her more pain."
Flint scoots forward, sitting next to and in front of Kavi now, and there's a look, concerned, back over his shoulder. "Easy," he murmurs, very quietly.
Riley's eyes squint, her facial features tightening to match everyone else's in the room, "Yeah, that's all well and good. Let's just cuddle all of her traumas away. I'm sure eventually she'll come 'round once she figures out that we don't have an ulterior mo— oh, well shit, that sort of fucks that, doesn't it?" Riley leans sharply forward to deposit her glass of orange juice on the table. "There's a difference, you know. Between being compassionate and being condescending. She's not stupid enough to miss it, either."
Kavi is up out of his seat by the time Riley suggests cuddling traumas. Both hands are clenched, now, and he leans forward, teeth bared. "If you think that's all there is? That all we are is tools? Pawns? Soldiers? You don't deserve to be called fostern! My ulterior motive is her healing enough to be able to make her own choices. And if all you can offer her is more pain? More threats and bullying and torture? STAY AWAY FROM HER!"
Flint pushes to crouch, not between the two, but eventually stands. "Kavi-rhya," he says, quietly and levelly. "We're talking. Not." Riley, however, is on the receiving end of just about as sharp a look as Flint can manage while still being respectful.
"I think you're missing the fucking point, Kavi-rhya." Riley immediately snaps back, though she at least stays seated. It's clear that her hackles are raised from that rank-related quip, though. "But if you want to shove words into my mouth, feel free to have the rest of this little 'talk' on your own. You know. Since you've so clearly mapped out exactly what my intentions were."
Kavi remains standing, his form trembling slightly. He looks to Flint, and draws in a breath in response to the cliath's words. His fingers flex and clench again, slowly releasing some of the rage as he lets the breath out in a controlled hiss. "Whatever your intentions," he says, his voice now quiet but not at all soft. "What you said did more harm than good. Your words were bullying. Threatening. And I won't let you do that, again."
Salem appears in the doorway to the breakroom, his posture a deceptive slouch, his step near-silent. Thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, he stands there, observing silently for the moment.
Flint folds his arms across his chest, and then looks at Riley, a little sharper. The general tension is getting to the cliath, too. "Riley-rhya," Flint says, tone reflecting the general mood, a different emphasis on the honorific than the fostern had just earlier used, but emphasis nonetheless. "You're making assumptions, not—" and Flint goes silent, a nod of greeting to Salem.
Riley is sitting very, very still now, her eyes narrowed to the point that little enough is visible of them. "That's … a way of looking at it." She all but grinds out. Her fingers are flexing, burying and unburying along the thighs of her sweatpants. "Another way of looking at it, is that you've been trying it your way for over a week, and she hasn't calmed down a fucking ounce, and what's 'best' for her seems to be putting this entire building at risk while you outright lie to the girl and don't teach her."
The trembling increases as the adren galliard goes otherwise very, very still. There is no movement from him, no word, no sound, and his eyes shut tight with the effort of containing himself.
Salem gives Flint a little nod in return, but his attention's mostly on Kavi and Riley. His lips thin as he steps into the breakroom, calmly moving closer to the pair. "Easy," he says to the other Adren, quietly, and then he looks at the Ragabash. "Riley… how many traumatized cubs have you raised to cliathhood?" The halfmoon's voice is calm, no obvious steel in it, his Rage under firm control.
Flint takes a few steps forward, putting himself in front of Kavi, between Kavi and Riley, and attention is on the elder galliard. "Kavi-rhya," Flint says, the calm and level tone of voice again, "easy, yeah?"
The young woman may be seething with indignation, but she's also not blind. One doesn't live especially long by ignoring the signs of someone being pushed too far. Riley draws in a slow, steadying breath, flicking her tongue briefly over her teeth. "We—" Salem gets his words in at about the same time, and her attention is drawn to him, cutting off her train of thought entirely. She bristles immediately under the implication of his words, responding only with a measured frown for a moment, "What rousing successes has Kavi's methods turned out? I was gone, if you'll remember."
Kavi gives a curt nod to Salem, and again to Flint. "I. I'll come back," he says, and turns to walk out the door and down the long hall.
Salem reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and takes out his cigarettes and lighter. Tapping out a smoke, he says, "Kavi's methods are similar to my methods, and my methods have shown success." He lights the foul-smelling cigarette, takes a drag, then puts the rest of the pack, along with the lighter, away. "I had a cub, once, who was fifteen going on ten. Emotionally stunted, terrified of nearly everything, completely unable to even contemplate fighting. My elder kept pressuring me to cull him. I refused." He takes another drag. "Cat took longer than most cubs, but he lived, and Rited, and fought the Wyrm."
Once Kavi has walked out of the room, Flint looks down at the floor, takes a few steps back and away. And then he moves to standing behind Salem to one side, otherwise staying well and out of the conversation.
"I don't know what the fuck prompted this little outburst of…" She waves her arms in the direction of the doorway, "His, but it sure as fuck wasn't me bullying or threatening the cub." Riley frowns, tightly crossing her arms, "All I did was tell her the truth as it came up. She scoffed at the idea of 'bad guy' Garou, so I told her about them. And when she said that we've been telling her we're just going to 'teach her some things and let her go', I corrected that too. How in the hell is lying to her going to help anything along?"
Salem takes another long drag and lets it out with a sigh. "There's being honest, Riley, and there's feeding someone information that they are not ready to digest. And that is even assuming that she was actually told that we'd simply send her on her way without the tools with which to defend herself."
"Yeah, well, I don't agree with that." Riley curtly states. "The facts are the facts, and they're not going to change just because she's been locked up in some terribly abusive —- thing!" Riley leans forward to retrieve her abandoned glass of orange juice to take a small sip, her frown—but not her vitriol—remaining fixed on Salem. "The fact that we're even entertaining her thoughts of walking out of here as Ronin—as a cub, or Cliath? That's sick."
Rina comes in, dressed in loose yoga clothes, the sort of thing she wears around the place lately—just, since Ex's arrival, with a .45 as well. "Ronin?" Her face lights as she comes through the door and sees Salem.
Salem raises an eyebrow. "Who said she was going to walk out a Ronin?"
Riley snaps, "She thinks that we're going to teach her to control her frenzies and then let her walk off."
Flint's chin juts up a little, the cliath's shoulders tense, and then there's a nod to Rina as she enters. "Doesn't mean that. One thing at a time, things. To tell her when. When telling her. Does any good." Flint swallows, and goes quiet. "Not all at once."
Salem lowers his head for a moment and takes another drag on his cigarette. His good eye shifts toward Rina, resting on her for a moment before turning back to the Ragabash. "Riley. Allow me to put this simply. Which is more important to you, you being right or Rogue being healed?"
Rina wrinkles her nose at Salem, but the subject brings a tightness to her face. She takes a deep breath, and stands back to watch them.
Riley glares daggers at Flint, "Yeah, you know that thing? That thing I've been saying this whole fucking time? That's not just 'not telling her something'. That's lying to her fucking face. You're dangling a little treat for her, and…" Salem's commentary earns him his first scowl of the evening, and she doesn't respond to the question.
"I asked you a question." Salem's voice is very calm, his mismatched gaze steady on Riley.
"Really? Because it felt more like an insult than a question." Riley grinds her teeth, "My priority is treating her like she deserves to be treated. The way I feel she would prefer to be treated. With some basic fucking dignity. This slow-drip of information? You're treating her like a wounded animal, not a person. You're all but clicker-training her."
Rina tenses, a flash of anger on her face as she watches Riley speak. Her expression is grim.
Flint glares right back at Riley, but the cliath is silent.
Salem's scarred face hardens. There's a short moment before he answers. A heartbeat or two, heavy and cold. "I disagree," he says at last. "Kavi disagrees. Rina disagrees. And you can be damned certain that all three of us have had more experience healing the broken than you." He takes another drag, exhales foul-smelling smoke. "So. Until and unless you're willing to fall in line, you're going to stay the fuck away from her. You will not speak to her or interact with her in any way. If you do, I will beat your fucking brains in." He says that last so calmly, but it's clear he means it. There's no warmth there. "This will be the situation until and unless Kavi or I say otherwise. Is that clear?"
Thump-SMACK-Roll-Crash! Riley's foot jerks out and contacts the table in front of her, jostling the glass of orange juice onto it's side and dumping the sticky drink all over the table. The glass then swiftly rolls its way to the edge and crashes to the floor, shattering. The ragabash stands, her expression tight. Her gaze shifts from Flint, to Rina, and settles on Salem. "Crystal." Of course, this being Riley, she can't let it just end there. "Any other basic things I should try to avoid? Should I cover the power outlets with the little plastic thingies? Maybe I'll buy one of those little room separators so she doesn't fall down the stairs?"
At the far end of the hallway, the door to Kavi's apartment opens and closes again.
Salem's fist snaps out, cobra-quick, at Riley's face.
Flint tenses, and then just takes a step back, moving over towards Rina and to give Salem and Riley some space. There's a low grumble, Flint shoving his hands into his pockets.
If nothing else, she does make for a satisfying punching bag. Her head lashes to the side and she staggers back a step. Her fingers curl into tightened fists as she snaps her head back 'round to regard Salem almost immediately. Her glower is diminished slightly by the awkward angle of her nose and the blood dribbling down her face. "Flea collar?" She suggests.
"That's enough, Riley," Rina says, very quietly. She watches the tall young woman and Salem, her posture holding tense readiness.
Salem's expression turns dead cold. His control on his Rage is iron… but his anger is very obvious. "Get out," he says to Riley. "Out of this room, off this floor, out of this building. And if you say another fucking word, I will rip your fucking tongue out and shove it right the fuck up your ass."
Rina steps adroitly out of the way, staying close to Flint.
Flint watches what goes on, keeping what might be conscious control on breathing levelly and evenly. "So much for talk," he murmurs, very quietly, glancing to Rina.
Riley meets Salem's words with a tight frown. She drags the sleeve of her shirt against the blood smearing her upper lip, briefly stands there sucking at an incisor before shaking her head and walking from the room. Rage is clearly bubbling up around the surface, but she holds it together long enough to reach the door, walk through it.
"It's not a good time'a the month f'talkin'," Rina says quietly. Her gaze settles on Salem, the look in her eyes slightly pained.
Salem's good eye tracks the Ragabash out. He curses in Serbian when Riley's gone, muttering, "The last fucking word. They always have to have the last fucking word."
Flint grimaces, and nods. "Not," he agrees, moving over to the table to neaten a pile of sketches and paper that's there, still, and then to the kitchen, getting a dustpan and glaring at the broken pieces of glass near the couch from Riley's drink.
Rina takes a slow, measured breath, and lets it out. Her lips curve in a rueful, slightly sad little half-smile. "I guess now wouldn't be the best timing for a hug, Jack. But it's good t'see ya."
Salem shakes his head a little, then exhales a breath, tucks back a stray lock of white hair, and limps over to the couch. "Likewise. God, what a mess."
Rina winces slightly at that sound. "You had dinner yet?" she asks Salem.
Flint wordlessly moves to clean up the broken glass, careful, though not careful enough to avoid getting a cut on his hand from it, which gets equally glared at as Flint stalks back to the kitchen, forcefully throwing the debris into the trashcan before he moves to lean against the counter, and just breathe.
Salem slouches onto the couch, stretching long legs with a grimace. Cigarette in hand, he massages his forehead with his fingertips. "I ate… earlier today. Not dinner."
Rina glances toward the doorway, and heads that way to call out into the hall. "C'mon in. Have some fuckin' ziti, yeah?"
Flint glances towards Rina as she moves, but remains leaning against the counter, focus mostly turned inward for the moment, shoulders drawn in a very, very tight line.
Rina heads to the kitchen to get something from the freezer; she turns on the oven and leans her back against the counter.
Salem leans his head back and continues to smoke, looking more than a little weary.
Ex stalks in after Kavi, eyeing each occupant of the breakroom narrowly. By far, Salem gets the longest look, and her eyes clearly settle on the ruined half of his face. She's fidgety, a little sweaty around the forehead and the bridge of her nose. When she's done eyeing the Philodox, she jerks her head around to peer toward the ziti.
Kavi takes a breath, and then another, as he enters, eventually following Rina into the kitchen area. "Thank you," he whispers to her as he closes the distance. "Can I… How can I help?"
Flint takes a deep breath, and moves over to the fridge. "Anything to. Salem-rhya, Kavi-rhya. Anything to drink, while I'm? Rina, Ex?" The question's a bit disjointed, but given as Flint's pulling out a beer for himself, the meaning probably gets across well enough.
Salem exhales foul-smelling cigarette smoke and studies X, his expression neutral. Sitting up, he crushes the cigarette out in an ashtray and answers Flint. "Beer if there's beer. Water if there isn't."
"Hey, Ex," Rina says casually, and then the oven beeps. She turns to put the pan in.
Ex's lip tugs away from her teeth. "How about a cup of complete fucking sentences?" she snaps, toward Flint. Her volume is minimal, but she doesn't need loudness to sound harsh. "You sound like you stuffed them in a garbage disposal and just said the words how they happened to pop out."
Kavi steps out of Rina's way when she moves, though he doesn't go far. Both brows rise at Ex's statement, and he looks in her direction, though nothing is said.
Rina tenses as she closes the oven, glancing over her shoulder to Flint.
Flint has gotten halfway back through rummaging through the fridge to get what Salem asked, when Ex speaks, and the door of the fridge is slammed open, perhaps a little further than it's supposed to go, as he stands there. Both bottles of beer clatter to the floor, crack, break, and then Flint just stands there, breathing very, very raggedly. "Shut." The word is growled out. "Up."
Salem inhales a breath and then lets it out. "It never changes," he says, addressing the ceiling. "It never really changes." There's a faint bit of weary amusement note in his voice. Just slightly.
Kavi whirls toward the sounds, immediately placing himself between the source and Rina. He breathes again, when Flint freezes, and though he doesn't move from his spot, he does look around until he identifies the location of the towels.
Ex's eyes flick from the broken beer to Flint. There's no flinch from her, no step backward. Notably, however, she doesn't actually say anything further, and her teeth are no longer visible.
Flint faces the fridge, still, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists and shoulders shaking with effort to contain himself.
"Breathe," Rina says softly. "You're good. You got it, Flint." She touches a hand to Kavi's arm.
Kavi turns at the touch to his arm, and looks to Rina. He nods, and finally takes a step away, moving to the towels to clean the mess. Still, his gaze returns frequently to Flint and to Rina.
Ex snorts, very softly.
Flint takes a step backwards and the refrigerator door creaks shut, a creak it definitely didn't have before. The cliath unclenches his fists, half-turns, and then all of the anger rises again, lips back from teeth, full-on glaring at Ex, and everyone else for that matter. There's no shift, though there's certainly all evidence of the rage boiling up.
"Ex," Rina says very quietly, calmly, "the full moon isn't a good time to push like this. You're riding the edge and feeling the moon right now. But so is everyone else in this room except me." She watches the young woman, focused.
Kavi turns to Flint, then. "Out," he tells him, and though the word is a command, his voice carries gentleness and caring. "Go out, until you feel calm." He once again places himself between cliath and kin, but appears ready to accompany Flint out the door, if necessary.
Salem remains seated, though his eye's on the confrontation, watching it keenly.
Ex goes from standing and staring to lunging in the blink of an eye. The poor table is what gets in her way, prevents her from full-body tackling Flint. She's not crinos, but her teeth are bared and her eyes are bright and wild, with both gloved hands clenched into tight fists and raised.
Ex also does this soundlessly, until she impacts with the table.
Flint growls, a strangled sound, but he's already picking feet up and walking out into the hallway, though his gaze rests a moment on the elder galliard, brows arching, a pause in his step. "Would—" The word is as strangled as the earlier sound, and then Flint full on bolts for the door, striding at double to triple the original pace straight through the doorway to the hallway.
Flint full on kicks one of the walls once he's out the doorway, and the floor, heavy thumping sounds.
As Flint heads out the door, Kavi gives a quick look around, and then follows. He doesn't speak, and he gives the younger galliard a wide berth, but he keeps himself between the cliath and the rest.
Flint has gotten halfway down the hall to his own apartment, and leans forehead against one wall, one fist as well from where he'd punched the wall. Not that the punching seems to have done anything save make the cliath's knuckles red. His breathing is steadier, though, and Kavi gets a glance without Flint actually turning his head.
Kavi continues after Flint and shakes his head. "Keep going," he says, more gently, now. "Take time. Take space. It's okay to be angry, to feel the rage of the moon. You need to be in control, too. Go draw. Or sing. Or shower it all away. And come back when it passes. When the memory isn't right in front of your eyes."
Flint nods, still leaning against the wall, and then tenses at the cub's words in the breakroom, and finally turns to look at Kavi. "She— I. Garbage disposal?" There's anger in Flint's voice, quiet as it is.
Kavi shakes his head. "Words," he says. "Go into your own space. Be alone. Do what you need to do to let it go, and come back when you're ready."
"Words!" Flint agrees, hitting the wall again, though there's less emphasis and force behind it this time. "Fuck words. Can't ever, I. I." Whatever it is the younger galliard is trying to say doesn't coalesce, though he takes another few steps towards his apartment and then kicks the floor again. "Devon, Riley, her, NO ONE LISTENS. All they hear is failed words!"
Kavi shakes his head, and points at Flint's apartment. "Go inside, Flint."
Flint draws in a deep, still slightly shaky breath and nods, moving over and opening the door to his apartment. The door is pushed shut behind him, though there's no telltale click of the lock. From inside, there's music turned on, loudly enough to leak into the hallway.
For a long moment, Flint just leans agains the doorway, shutting himself off as completely as he can from the packlink as well as everything else once he's gotten the music going, and then flops down onto the mattress. "Words," he mutters. "Fuck words. Not." His breathing evens, though, and he spends long minutes just staring at the ceiling of his apartment, drifting through the lyrics of the music.
Be the long awaited answer to a long and painful fight
Truth be told I tried my best
But somewhere along the way, I got caught up in all there was to offer
But the cost was so much more than I could bear.
The cliath taps his fingers on his knee in time with the music, then turns over, then turns over again. "Broken, failed words. FUCK WORDS."
Though I've tried,
I've fallen
I have sunk so low
I messed up
Better I should know
So don't come 'round here
And tell me I told you so.
Flint fumbles with the IR remote for the laptop for a moment, pointing it in a few more random directions before he actually gets it right, pushing the option button until he gets the one song to repeat. The lyrics drift, the music gets turned up a few times in volume. There's a look down at his palms, and he shifts, to glabro for the moment, letting himself forget, forcing himself to let go of the worst of the anger.
The song plays through several times and then Flint shuffles through to another, and then another, before he sits up and looks towards the door again. And past that, to where the breakroom is, though he keeps his motions deliberately slow and careful as he gets up, shifts down to his birth form, and moves over to pause the music on the computer.
Not long thereafter, the music that's been bleeding from Flint's apartment into the hallway stops, and there's the click of a door being opened.
Flint takes his time making it down the hallway, but eventually, he ends up in the doorway to the breakroom, though he doesn't step inside, yet. The cliath looks significantly more relaxed, though he's still tense, and there's a short glance over everyone inside, before Flint's gaze settles on Kavi, and he nods, once.
"He busted her face?" Ex looks toward Flint. Her eyes narrow further.
Kavi nods in answer, and glances across to Flint. There's a moment of question, there, but it goes unspoken, and he turns back to the cub. "He didn't frenzy. And if she shifts? She'll heal quickly. Like I showed you, the other day. But… But he wanted her to know he was serious. She didn't stop when she was supposed to, when enough was enough."
Flint looks to Kavi a moment longer, and there's another quick nod. He's okay, now. For the moment. The younger galliard diverts towards the kitchen. "I just," he says, very quietly, and pauses, taking a deep breath, then starts again, "food. A-a drink, then. I. I'll. I'll go again." The words, though with no less of the usual stammer and stutter, are slow and deliberate and enunciated very carefully.
Ex turns her head back to Kavi and starts to say something. She doesn't. Her mouth closes.
With a nod to Flint, Kavi turns back to the cub and offers a faint smile. "Yes," he says, his voice quite soft.
"Ziti should be ready." Rising, Rina goes to rinse towels in the sink.
Flint nods once, glancing to where there had been a mess on the floor, and then to Rina. "I. I'm sorry," he offers, to the kin—and perhaps to Kavi as well—moving to the refrigerator. It creaks when it opens, but this time at least, Flint manages to get himself a beer, and open it and take a long sip, all without incident.
Ex's response is an immediate, faint scowl.
Kavi looks to Flint at the statement and gives a simple nod in answer before turning his attention to Rina. "Do you want help?"
Rina murmurs, "It's fine," looking to Flint. "It's full moon," she says. "I got it, caro." Then she opens the open, gets out the ziti, and starts plating.
Flint leans against the counter, out of the way, a small tense smile edging onto his face, and takes another long sip of the drink. Perhaps thankfully, the cub's either not seen, or ignored.
Ex puts her head on the table, with her hands over her head, threading up through her short hair. She tugs at it.
Kavi looks between Ex and Flint, and though he doesn't speak, he appears to be weighing something, considering.
Rina brings the plates over to the table. "What's up, X?" she asks, laying out forks.
Flint moves to claim one of the remaining plates that Rina hasn't carried yet, a very short shake of his head, though for the moment, the cliath sets it on the counter next to where he leans rather than immediately retreating and leaving again.
Ex mumbles into the table, "I don't know."
Kavi sets his notebook aside again, and rises from his seat. He nods again to Flint, and gives a longer look to Rina, before he pulls down a pair of glasses and fills them with water from the creaky fridge.
Flint sets the bottle down on the counter and picks up his fork, eating rather more carefully than he often does, and still trying to be out of the way.
Drinks, food. Once everyone's set up, Rina comes to the table herself. Watching Ex, she says, "I need to go pick up art stuff, you want anything?"
Ex shakes her head without lifting it from the table. Her elbows are pressed against her cheeks.
Kavi brings the glasses, and sets one near enough to Ex that she can reach for it without difficulty, once she lifts her head. He looks to Rina, and reaches across to touch her hand before he takes up his fork. "I need a new pick," he says. "For the electric?"
Flint looks over at Rina, a moment. "If. Could you. I," the cliath says, drawing in a breath, "my sketchbook's near full, and this was the. My second. The spare. And. I. I'd appreciate it."
Looking to Kavi, Rina says, "What, I hafta go to that hippie music joint, too?" She flashes a teasing grin.
Ex suddenly pulls her head up from the table, grabs her glass, and jerks her hand back. She does not throw it, but only, noticeably, through a clear effort.
Flint sets his fork down, alert, quiet.
Kavi smiles at Rina, but the sudden violence in Ex's movement grabs his attention.
Rina's attention turns to X instantly. "Ex?"
Ex sucks a breath in through her teeth, and then slowly, carefully lowers the glass back down to the table.
"Y'oughta eat," Rina says softly.
Flint watches, a moment longer, before he reclaims the bottle of his drink, and takes another sip. And then sets it down again, moving silently to the fridge, save for the new creak of the door.
Ex grunts. She pulls her plate closer, and picks up the fork.
Kavi watches the glass until it once again reaches the table and then picks up his fork again to resume eating.
Flint isn't quite all the way done with his first drink yet, but he emerges from half-disappearing into the fridge with a second bottle that gets set aside on the counter anyway.
"What'd you do today?" Rina asks, her gaze steady on Ex a moment before she glances away. She eats casually.
Kavi lifts his gaze to the cliath, and his brow furrows slightly. "Flint? Maybe one is enough for tonight? Save the other for… when the moon is smaller?"
Ex shrugs at Rina's question. "Slept. Drew. Slept some more."
Flint glances at the second beer, and at the closed fridge, and then finally at Kavi. There's thought, and a very quiet murmur of, "Words," in explanation, but Flint nods, puts the drink back, and returns to eating.
"What'd you work on? Drawing, I mean." Rina munches away, entirely casual. As if this is some sort of normal dinner. With normal people.
Kavi returns to his own meal as the second beer is returned. His gaze shifts between the two women at the table, listening to the conversation without adding anything more of his own, at the moment.
Ex pauses with her fork just touching the noodles. Her mouth tugs into a deeper frown. "…Things."
Flint drains the last of the beer, moves to drop the bottle in the recycling, and glances to Kavi, then to the door of the breakroom.
Kavi sets his fork down, though he hasn't quite finished. "Do you draw— Do you plan what you're going to draw, before you start? When I'm playing? When I'm writing a new song? Sometimes I can almost hear it before I start to write it down."
Ex touches her tongue to her lower lip, eyes narrowing. "I draw what I see," she says slowly.
Flint picks up his plate, finishing off his food and then carrying the plate to the sink. "I. I'll," Flint says, after a moment. Plate thus dealt with, he goes back to the doorway of the breakroom. "Kavi-rhya, Rina, Ex. Goodnight."
"She's good," Rina says quietly. Rina looks across to Flint, thoughtfully. "Night, kiddo. Sleep tight."
"Stay safe," Kavi says to Flint with a nod, and then turns back to the others and nods. "Sometimes, when I'm trying to write something. For a purpose? It's harder than when I'm just writing what… what I feel."
Rina returns to eating, watching them talk.
Flint ducks a nod, and slips out of the breakroom and off down the hall. Not long after, a door opens, and shuts.