Dedication.
Thursday, 28 June 2012 21:50![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flint_garouAnd I did it.
28 June, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (65% full).
The basics of the ritual were taught over the past weeks, when time presented. Earlier, Kavi told Flint to prepare for an actual attempt, and to bring something he wished to dedicate to himself. When Flint arrives, Kavi already has the bowls of water, the duct tape, and the magic marker ready on the tables.
"I think," Kavi says, looking up at the younger galliard's entrance. "I think Jacob learned it from Lefty. Or maybe another Bone Gnawer. This isn't how it was done for me at Glass Spire. But duct tape is easy to get, and." He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "It hurts less than the needles my elders used."
Flint has his switchblade with him, one that's usually dedicated but got un-dedicated at some point in the past few weeks. The one he bought himself right after he became cliath. There's a grin and Flint nods, flips the switchblade over in his hands a few times and runs his thumb against the wooden inlay of the handle. "Easy to get is. Is good," Flint says.
Kavi nods once. He smiles at the cliath, a gentle expression, but warm. "Okay," he says softly. "I'm going to watch. If you get stuck, or. Or if you need help, you can ask. But I won't interrupt unless you ask me. Okay?"
Flint looks up at Kavi, then nods, turning the switchblade over a few times in his hand before leaning against the table. There's a slight moment of hesitation, before Flint starts. Knife is dipped in the bowl, duct-tape is torn, knife taped to his nondominant hand, and there's a faint 'oh', as the cliath fights the marker for a moment. Another glance to Kavi, but the glyphs that Flint draws are sure, steady, and maybe edging towards being art without so much as looking at them as he draws them.
Kavi keeps back, out of the way, but he watches every step. His lips part, and he draws in a small breath, as if to speak. Then his mouth closes again, and he simply nods, a hint of a smile at the involvement of the glyphs.
Flint snaps the marker shut again, holds it for a moment and sets it aside on the table, only then looking down at the knife, then just past it and into empty space. He does speak, but it's somewhere near a whisper, devolving into simply humming the melody to a song for a little bit, concentrating, and Flint looks up at Kavi again, nods once, and starts to peel the duct-tape carefully off of the knife, and off of skin.
Kavi holds his breath through all of the last, but his head bobs gently along with the melody. When Flint is done, the breath is released in a rush, and the elder galliard smiles. "How does it feel?" he asks, as the younger begins removing the tape.
Flint continues to remove the tape rather gingerly, then flips the knife open, and then shut, then closes his hand around it, tucking both hand and knife into his pocket. "Right," comes the answer, a moment later, complete with a wide smile. "I think, right."
Kavi nods. "Try lupus and back? See how it feels."
There's another grin, and the younger galliard takes a step away from the table before shifting to lupus. Tongue lolls from his mouth, quite clearly pleased with himself as he trots over towards Kavi.
Kavi's brow furrows as he spots the most recent scar, and his gaze remains there, even as the wolf nears. It takes another moment after Flint arrives, before the older galliard shifts his gaze. He smiles, but it's a troubled expression, and he nods. "Okay. Okay, good. Take homid again."
There's a moment of shaking out of fur, before the younger galliard resumes his birth form, and leans on the table, reaches into his pocket, and produces the knife to fiddle with for a moment. "I did it," he says, with a bit of a grin, though the grin fades some when he sees Kavi's expression.
Kavi nods again, and his smile becomes a little more complete. "You did," he agrees. Then the expression falls again, and the furrow returns to his brow. "When did…" He nods, again, indicating the boy's side.
Flint reaches to rub at his upper thigh and hip, the location of the scar beneath his clothing. "On the Great Hunt," Flint explains. "I… I'm okay, now."
Though lessened, the furrow remains, and Kavi's hand moves, absently, to his own chest. He nods, once. "I'm glad," he says, and then looks to the knife. "You did it. And. You can do it for other people, too. The same way."
Flint nods. "Yes," Flint affirms, though there's a hint of tentativeness to the words. There's a long silence, and Flint slips the knife back into his pocket, and glances back up at the other galliard.
Kavi drops his hand down and hooks his thumb into his pocket. The furrow finally eases, as well. "Was… Did you have a question?"
The younger galliard chews on his lower lip for a moment, glances down. "Don't… no. I don't think so. Unless…" Flint pauses, tilts his head to one side. "I. I'm… I'm worried about Devon. Even—" both hands shove into his pockets, "though he. Hates me, and. Won't talk to me. But he. He hasn't been. Been back, since he left? And."
Kavi's teeth touch his lower lip, but he nods encouragement.
Flint sighs, quietly, and pulls out a chair from the table and sits down. "And I worry. I. I mean, I fought with him, and. And all, sure. But. He's still… tribe. I… I'm worried." Flint's quiet, then, fingers tracing the patterns recognisable as the glyph for tribe over and over again on the table. "Would… if he got in trouble, would he… would he even, come back?"
Kavi nods again and moves to start clearing the ritual materials. "It's good of you. To worry? I worry some, too. But. But sometimes? What people need is time. Time to be apart, to be away from something. And if he reaches out? If he calls, or needs us? We'll let him know that we're here. That we're still his family." The galliard stops at the sink, the now empty bowl still in his hand. "He talked about it so many times. And we told him. All of us. Me, and Mouse, and even Kevin. We told him it was his choice, but that we wanted him to be here. It has to be his choice. To go. To come back. It has to be his choice, or he'll always feel like we're chaining him against his will."
Flint nods, leans on the table. "I hope so," Flint says. "I. I really hope so."
Kavi returns to cleaning up, rinsing the bowl and drying it before setting it back in the cupboard. "A lot of people— It's never been a requirement that the tribe live here. For me… I need this. I need this place that's only for our tribe, our family. But. But when everything is good? When… When Rina doesn't need to be here? We live at home, with Jenny and Angela. Jack only lived in the basement, and he moved out a long time ago. Before we had this building, the place for the tribe was too small for everyone to stay." He gives a sharp shake of his head and turns back to Flint. "He doesn't have to live here, to be part of the tribe. And maybe. Maybe if he has some space to be himself, he'll feel more like part of the tribe."
Flint nods. "That… part of. That was a lot of what Devon and I. What we argued over," Flint says. "This?" he takes a deep breath in, and the words slow more. "It's the only home I've got, only home I've known, and. He didn't understand, and. Missed his parents, I think. And, maybe sometimes, I. I think he got jealous, of. Of how it is for me, because this. Because this my home, and. And you, and Kevin, and Mouse, and Rina, and. And Devon, even. Are. The only family, I. I've got."
Kavi nods, at first with a frown, and then a small, gentle smile. "I know. But you do have us. And that won't change. And even in families, not everyone is happy with everyone else, all the time. And that's okay. As long as everyone knows that we are family. And when something happens, we will be here to support each other." He looks down at the duct tape in his hand, and drops it in the drawer. "I'm going to check on Ex, before Rina comes back. But. Maybe tomorrow you can start teaching me about the art rite?"
The younger galliard glances at the table a long moment, then looks over at Kavi and nods. 'Family' isn't a word Flint uses often, and it's taking him a moment to regain composure. "Yeah. I. Of course." Flint gets up, heads for the couch and probably one of the video games. "Make. Make sure that. That the strings, you've got. Are… aren't likely to break, or aren't. Older," he notes, half-absently turning on the television. "I. It channels the Rage, after all."
Kavi retains the soft smile, and nods again in answer. "Okay. Thanks," he says, and starts out the door. "Stay safe," he adds with a glance back over his shoulder.
28 June, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (65% full).
The basics of the ritual were taught over the past weeks, when time presented. Earlier, Kavi told Flint to prepare for an actual attempt, and to bring something he wished to dedicate to himself. When Flint arrives, Kavi already has the bowls of water, the duct tape, and the magic marker ready on the tables.
"I think," Kavi says, looking up at the younger galliard's entrance. "I think Jacob learned it from Lefty. Or maybe another Bone Gnawer. This isn't how it was done for me at Glass Spire. But duct tape is easy to get, and." He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "It hurts less than the needles my elders used."
Flint has his switchblade with him, one that's usually dedicated but got un-dedicated at some point in the past few weeks. The one he bought himself right after he became cliath. There's a grin and Flint nods, flips the switchblade over in his hands a few times and runs his thumb against the wooden inlay of the handle. "Easy to get is. Is good," Flint says.
Kavi nods once. He smiles at the cliath, a gentle expression, but warm. "Okay," he says softly. "I'm going to watch. If you get stuck, or. Or if you need help, you can ask. But I won't interrupt unless you ask me. Okay?"
Flint looks up at Kavi, then nods, turning the switchblade over a few times in his hand before leaning against the table. There's a slight moment of hesitation, before Flint starts. Knife is dipped in the bowl, duct-tape is torn, knife taped to his nondominant hand, and there's a faint 'oh', as the cliath fights the marker for a moment. Another glance to Kavi, but the glyphs that Flint draws are sure, steady, and maybe edging towards being art without so much as looking at them as he draws them.
Kavi keeps back, out of the way, but he watches every step. His lips part, and he draws in a small breath, as if to speak. Then his mouth closes again, and he simply nods, a hint of a smile at the involvement of the glyphs.
Flint snaps the marker shut again, holds it for a moment and sets it aside on the table, only then looking down at the knife, then just past it and into empty space. He does speak, but it's somewhere near a whisper, devolving into simply humming the melody to a song for a little bit, concentrating, and Flint looks up at Kavi again, nods once, and starts to peel the duct-tape carefully off of the knife, and off of skin.
Kavi holds his breath through all of the last, but his head bobs gently along with the melody. When Flint is done, the breath is released in a rush, and the elder galliard smiles. "How does it feel?" he asks, as the younger begins removing the tape.
Flint continues to remove the tape rather gingerly, then flips the knife open, and then shut, then closes his hand around it, tucking both hand and knife into his pocket. "Right," comes the answer, a moment later, complete with a wide smile. "I think, right."
Kavi nods. "Try lupus and back? See how it feels."
There's another grin, and the younger galliard takes a step away from the table before shifting to lupus. Tongue lolls from his mouth, quite clearly pleased with himself as he trots over towards Kavi.
Kavi's brow furrows as he spots the most recent scar, and his gaze remains there, even as the wolf nears. It takes another moment after Flint arrives, before the older galliard shifts his gaze. He smiles, but it's a troubled expression, and he nods. "Okay. Okay, good. Take homid again."
There's a moment of shaking out of fur, before the younger galliard resumes his birth form, and leans on the table, reaches into his pocket, and produces the knife to fiddle with for a moment. "I did it," he says, with a bit of a grin, though the grin fades some when he sees Kavi's expression.
Kavi nods again, and his smile becomes a little more complete. "You did," he agrees. Then the expression falls again, and the furrow returns to his brow. "When did…" He nods, again, indicating the boy's side.
Flint reaches to rub at his upper thigh and hip, the location of the scar beneath his clothing. "On the Great Hunt," Flint explains. "I… I'm okay, now."
Though lessened, the furrow remains, and Kavi's hand moves, absently, to his own chest. He nods, once. "I'm glad," he says, and then looks to the knife. "You did it. And. You can do it for other people, too. The same way."
Flint nods. "Yes," Flint affirms, though there's a hint of tentativeness to the words. There's a long silence, and Flint slips the knife back into his pocket, and glances back up at the other galliard.
Kavi drops his hand down and hooks his thumb into his pocket. The furrow finally eases, as well. "Was… Did you have a question?"
The younger galliard chews on his lower lip for a moment, glances down. "Don't… no. I don't think so. Unless…" Flint pauses, tilts his head to one side. "I. I'm… I'm worried about Devon. Even—" both hands shove into his pockets, "though he. Hates me, and. Won't talk to me. But he. He hasn't been. Been back, since he left? And."
Kavi's teeth touch his lower lip, but he nods encouragement.
Flint sighs, quietly, and pulls out a chair from the table and sits down. "And I worry. I. I mean, I fought with him, and. And all, sure. But. He's still… tribe. I… I'm worried." Flint's quiet, then, fingers tracing the patterns recognisable as the glyph for tribe over and over again on the table. "Would… if he got in trouble, would he… would he even, come back?"
Kavi nods again and moves to start clearing the ritual materials. "It's good of you. To worry? I worry some, too. But. But sometimes? What people need is time. Time to be apart, to be away from something. And if he reaches out? If he calls, or needs us? We'll let him know that we're here. That we're still his family." The galliard stops at the sink, the now empty bowl still in his hand. "He talked about it so many times. And we told him. All of us. Me, and Mouse, and even Kevin. We told him it was his choice, but that we wanted him to be here. It has to be his choice. To go. To come back. It has to be his choice, or he'll always feel like we're chaining him against his will."
Flint nods, leans on the table. "I hope so," Flint says. "I. I really hope so."
Kavi returns to cleaning up, rinsing the bowl and drying it before setting it back in the cupboard. "A lot of people— It's never been a requirement that the tribe live here. For me… I need this. I need this place that's only for our tribe, our family. But. But when everything is good? When… When Rina doesn't need to be here? We live at home, with Jenny and Angela. Jack only lived in the basement, and he moved out a long time ago. Before we had this building, the place for the tribe was too small for everyone to stay." He gives a sharp shake of his head and turns back to Flint. "He doesn't have to live here, to be part of the tribe. And maybe. Maybe if he has some space to be himself, he'll feel more like part of the tribe."
Flint nods. "That… part of. That was a lot of what Devon and I. What we argued over," Flint says. "This?" he takes a deep breath in, and the words slow more. "It's the only home I've got, only home I've known, and. He didn't understand, and. Missed his parents, I think. And, maybe sometimes, I. I think he got jealous, of. Of how it is for me, because this. Because this my home, and. And you, and Kevin, and Mouse, and Rina, and. And Devon, even. Are. The only family, I. I've got."
Kavi nods, at first with a frown, and then a small, gentle smile. "I know. But you do have us. And that won't change. And even in families, not everyone is happy with everyone else, all the time. And that's okay. As long as everyone knows that we are family. And when something happens, we will be here to support each other." He looks down at the duct tape in his hand, and drops it in the drawer. "I'm going to check on Ex, before Rina comes back. But. Maybe tomorrow you can start teaching me about the art rite?"
The younger galliard glances at the table a long moment, then looks over at Kavi and nods. 'Family' isn't a word Flint uses often, and it's taking him a moment to regain composure. "Yeah. I. Of course." Flint gets up, heads for the couch and probably one of the video games. "Make. Make sure that. That the strings, you've got. Are… aren't likely to break, or aren't. Older," he notes, half-absently turning on the television. "I. It channels the Rage, after all."
Kavi retains the soft smile, and nods again in answer. "Okay. Thanks," he says, and starts out the door. "Stay safe," he adds with a glance back over his shoulder.