Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2012-07-19 10:53 am
flint_garou) wrote2012-07-19 10:53 am
Promises.
If you ever use your claws or something silver … I will make sure you have enough pain that you don't have to think about doing any rites to get it for a very long time.
19 July, 2012
The moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (4% full).
Flint makes his way to their usual spot by the edge of Tiger Lake at a stroll, long sleeves and sweatshirt both tugged down around his hands. The Walker's humming quietly to himself until he spots Alexandra. Then his pace picks up, and a faint, tiny grin grows on his face.
Alexandra has managed to acquire her favorite bench, the one farthest removed from the crowds and overlooking the waterfall. She's leaning back slightly, both palms resting on the bench beside her as she keeps herself partially propped up with her arms, eyes closed as she listens to the sound of the water crashing against the rocks.
There's a small ping at the packlink to let her know his arrival before Flint comes, sitting down on the bench next to Lex. One hand unconsciously encircles the other wrist, white-knuckled even for the otherwise lack of tension. "Hey," he greets, quietly.
Alexandra opens her eyes, offering a small smile to her packmate. "I love the sound of water. Always have. I have a small fountain on my end table at the Vault, so I can hear the sound even when I'm going to sleep. It's very relaxing."
Flint grins. "It's nice," he agrees. "Quiet. Not quite— not a pattern, but not, not a pattern either." Flint seems, more than anything else, just very tired. "I. I talked to one of the philodox of, of our tribe. About Challenging April. Because I'm, sick of it."
Alexandra replies, "Good. That way when you kick her ass, you won't have to worry about shutting down parts of the park. Do you know what the challenge is going to be yet?"
Flint shakes his head. "I… said, not biased to auspice, not. Not biased to gender." He shrugs his shoulders, and then a glance darts to his lap, his hands, which there's a little effort and he more normally folds them together. "Don't know, other than, than that."
Alexandra nods. "We'll find out soon enough." A short pause. "So are you going to tell me what's really going on?" she asks, though the question is gentle rather than forceful. "April's just one symptom. I could feel enough yesterday to know that."
Flint glances at Alexandra for a moment, and then back out and across the lake, and nods. "It's… sometimes, it. That's the only thing that. Makes everything slow down and. Be bearable. Sometimes I…" he looks over at her. "Sometimes, some things I don't want to shift and heal." There's guilt, that shows over the packlink.
Alexandra remains unaware of the extent of the cuts that he shifted to heal, so there's less worry than there might otherwise be. "For me, if the weather cooperates, it's thunderstorms. The fiercer the better. I used to be afraid of them, back when I was little. Now, though…I'm just like the thunderstorm, and that makes them even more soothing than the sound of water."
He nods, looking out over the water, letting the quiet be all the sound for a moment. "It. Yeah. That sounds, nice. I. Sometimes, I can lose myself in, doing something, in the computers or the workshop," Flint says, bowing over his lap a little. "Sometimes that doesn't work. It… Feed the Earth, that… it gives a focus to… it."
Alexandra says, "They're not something I count on. Usually I have to rely on other things. But sometimes, when I need them most…" She turns to regard Flint, then. "You need to be careful. And not just because you might hurt yourself doing it. Rites are a call to the spirits. Feed the Earth…it's supposed to be a call to Gaian spirits, I know that much. But like I told you with Artwork, it depends on the rage you're channeling into it. If you're putting the wrong kind of energy into the rite you're performing, it may be the wrong kind of spirit that responds."
Flint reaches over to set one hand on Lex's knee, ever so briefly. "It… it helps. It helps me feel connected, and grounded, and all." From his tone, that at least doesn't sound like the problem, though there's a visible and mental wince at when she mentions that he might hurt himself.
Alexandra asks, "And the deliberately not shifting? I know that's not part of the rite. Just…be careful."
Flint glances over at Alexandra a little, and nods. "I'll be. I'll be careful. Promise." He pauses. "Rina has my knife still. I'm… not ready to ask for it back, yet." There's another flash of guilt, there, but no answer for the issue of not shifting.
Alexandra eyes him at the mention of the knife being taken away. "If you ever use your claws or something silver, whether it's part of the rite or not, I will make sure you have enough pain that you don't have to think about doing any rites to get it for a very long time, just so you know. And that goes double if I ever find out you went far enough to pass out, because we can bleed to death in homid the same as anyone else."
There's a flicker of something, something that's dark and not at all a good train of thought, across Flint's face when she mentions claws and then silver, but he nods acceptance. "I'm careful," he reaffirms. "I… I made sure, I had the first aid kit with me, too. And."
Alexandra sits on her preferred bench near the lake, the one overlooking the waterfall, along with Flint. She says, "Good. I can't tell you how or when to perform a rite. But then you shouldn't have any problem promising me you'll make sure you have someone with you when you perform the rite? Because that's part of being careful, too."
Flint catches his lower lip between his teeth and bites down on it. "I…" this, however, Flint shakes his head to. "I can't. I can't ask other people to. To be there, Lex. It. I can't."
Now there's a familiar face wandering along the path that leads toward the lake. Ky, air drumming to music reaching only as far as his hearing, looks no worse for the wear for once. A bit dirty and scruffy, still with the unkempt motif of the biker gang it would seem.
Alexandra says, "When I cook, I don't care if others are watching. If they want to help, then they become part of the rite. If it's really bad, I might ask them not to, but even then, I give them what I made. Rites are meant to be shared, Flint. If you can't agree to a promise to have someone with you when you do a rite of thanks or apology, you're going through the motions, but what you're doing is only Feed the Earth in name." She clearly hasn't noticed Ky as yet.
Flint winces, a little, leaning over his lap and neither looking over the water, at the path, or at Lex. "It. It. The rite, I don't. I don't mind. But I can't, ask. If I don't shift, I can't ask someone to need to see that part, Lex. I can't ask them to be there, after."
Ky comes up behind the bench, then sidles off to lean against a nearby tree. He watches the water as well, though his attention is obviously on his packmates. The air drumming ceased, hands tuck into his pants pockets instead, and his own silence is maintained.
Alexandra reaches over to jab him in the chest with her index finger, and not one of her more common friendly pokes. It's a tightly controlled anger, but anger nonetheless. "Then you're admitting that the rite is just an excuse, and you're hiding from the consequences of what you're doing. And I happen to know you're better than that. So yes. You can. You do what you need to do. But you have family, and we WILL be there beside you, even if that means we're wrapping the bandages afterward."
Flint bites down on his lip, a little, at the poke, and that same echo of guilt comes over the packlink, but he nods, acceptance once more. "… okay," he says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the water. His hand encircles his wrist, pushes the sleeve up to trace at the few old scars, things that Lex hasn't even ever seen, though they're thin lines. "Thank you, then. I. I… that, yes. Okay. And I promise. No claws, no silver. Rite or not, I'll be careful about it."
"There's one other problem with making yourself bleed," Ky says quietly, without looking at either of his packmates. "We need you whole, and healthy." And though he doesn't say as much, there is an inkling of understanding for Flint's scars, and the need for what the Galliard has done, through the packlink. Not much, and it's as if he's intentionally keeping it a distant, vague thing. "Don't keep it too long, either."
Alexandra's anger doesn't fade completely, rage slow to wane without a more direct outlet even on a new moon, but the fear and worry driving it are at least diminished, and some of the tension disappears from her posture. "Good." She looks up at Ky, then, as he speaks, forcing a small smile, and offering, "Hey."
A moment of contemplation more and Flint tugs his sleeve down, scars and bare skin covered again, and nods to Ky. "I know," the Glass Walker says, quietly, acknowledgement.
"We'll talk about it," Ky asks of Flint. He watches the Walker for a moment, before completely breaking the sober mood by stepping away from the tree and draping himself over the bench between his packmates. "Guuuys. Lex needs to make us pie."
Alexandra laughs at that. "Did you pick up all the ingredients I asked you for? My mom and dad got me the ice cream maker when I visited them last night, so we're good on that front."
Flint cheers perceptibly at the mention of pie, and ice cream, though there's an entirely serious nod to Ky, first. "That sounds awesome," he says. "I mean, pie, r-really." The guilt that echoes over the packlink from the galliard fades.
"Pie," Kyler states again, fist pumping into the air. "Of course I got everything. I do the shopping. Which is why we have more than mac and cheese and ramen now. Plus, Laila's been supplying foods and even cooking things."
Alexandra says, "Thank goodness. It can be really hard to figure out things to cook with what Nik buys, sometimes." She chuckles a bit. "On the other hand, I've gotten a lot better at improvising on ingredients since I started living at the Vault."
Flint chuckles, pulling his knees up to his chest, a little guarded in his posture as he sits, a little preoccupied still. "That's always a good skill. Translates, improvising, other things," Flint remarks. "Thinking, on your feet, and all."
"It helps," Ky says, pointing a finger toward the sky. "Never know what's going to drop in at the Vault."
Alexandra says, "Well, if we're going to get this done, we should probably get moving. I'm making the pie crust from scratch, which is going to take a little while, and then it's got to actually bake. You guys ready?"
Flint nods. "Sure," Flint says. "Sounds good." There's another faint grin, and he hops off the bench and stands, stretching.
Ky pops off the bench, once more proclaiming, "Pie!" After, he straightens his shirt and jams his hands into his pockets, turning with an exaggerated lean toward the Vault's direction.
19 July, 2012
The moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (4% full).
Flint makes his way to their usual spot by the edge of Tiger Lake at a stroll, long sleeves and sweatshirt both tugged down around his hands. The Walker's humming quietly to himself until he spots Alexandra. Then his pace picks up, and a faint, tiny grin grows on his face.
Alexandra has managed to acquire her favorite bench, the one farthest removed from the crowds and overlooking the waterfall. She's leaning back slightly, both palms resting on the bench beside her as she keeps herself partially propped up with her arms, eyes closed as she listens to the sound of the water crashing against the rocks.
There's a small ping at the packlink to let her know his arrival before Flint comes, sitting down on the bench next to Lex. One hand unconsciously encircles the other wrist, white-knuckled even for the otherwise lack of tension. "Hey," he greets, quietly.
Alexandra opens her eyes, offering a small smile to her packmate. "I love the sound of water. Always have. I have a small fountain on my end table at the Vault, so I can hear the sound even when I'm going to sleep. It's very relaxing."
Flint grins. "It's nice," he agrees. "Quiet. Not quite— not a pattern, but not, not a pattern either." Flint seems, more than anything else, just very tired. "I. I talked to one of the philodox of, of our tribe. About Challenging April. Because I'm, sick of it."
Alexandra replies, "Good. That way when you kick her ass, you won't have to worry about shutting down parts of the park. Do you know what the challenge is going to be yet?"
Flint shakes his head. "I… said, not biased to auspice, not. Not biased to gender." He shrugs his shoulders, and then a glance darts to his lap, his hands, which there's a little effort and he more normally folds them together. "Don't know, other than, than that."
Alexandra nods. "We'll find out soon enough." A short pause. "So are you going to tell me what's really going on?" she asks, though the question is gentle rather than forceful. "April's just one symptom. I could feel enough yesterday to know that."
Flint glances at Alexandra for a moment, and then back out and across the lake, and nods. "It's… sometimes, it. That's the only thing that. Makes everything slow down and. Be bearable. Sometimes I…" he looks over at her. "Sometimes, some things I don't want to shift and heal." There's guilt, that shows over the packlink.
Alexandra remains unaware of the extent of the cuts that he shifted to heal, so there's less worry than there might otherwise be. "For me, if the weather cooperates, it's thunderstorms. The fiercer the better. I used to be afraid of them, back when I was little. Now, though…I'm just like the thunderstorm, and that makes them even more soothing than the sound of water."
He nods, looking out over the water, letting the quiet be all the sound for a moment. "It. Yeah. That sounds, nice. I. Sometimes, I can lose myself in, doing something, in the computers or the workshop," Flint says, bowing over his lap a little. "Sometimes that doesn't work. It… Feed the Earth, that… it gives a focus to… it."
Alexandra says, "They're not something I count on. Usually I have to rely on other things. But sometimes, when I need them most…" She turns to regard Flint, then. "You need to be careful. And not just because you might hurt yourself doing it. Rites are a call to the spirits. Feed the Earth…it's supposed to be a call to Gaian spirits, I know that much. But like I told you with Artwork, it depends on the rage you're channeling into it. If you're putting the wrong kind of energy into the rite you're performing, it may be the wrong kind of spirit that responds."
Flint reaches over to set one hand on Lex's knee, ever so briefly. "It… it helps. It helps me feel connected, and grounded, and all." From his tone, that at least doesn't sound like the problem, though there's a visible and mental wince at when she mentions that he might hurt himself.
Alexandra asks, "And the deliberately not shifting? I know that's not part of the rite. Just…be careful."
Flint glances over at Alexandra a little, and nods. "I'll be. I'll be careful. Promise." He pauses. "Rina has my knife still. I'm… not ready to ask for it back, yet." There's another flash of guilt, there, but no answer for the issue of not shifting.
Alexandra eyes him at the mention of the knife being taken away. "If you ever use your claws or something silver, whether it's part of the rite or not, I will make sure you have enough pain that you don't have to think about doing any rites to get it for a very long time, just so you know. And that goes double if I ever find out you went far enough to pass out, because we can bleed to death in homid the same as anyone else."
There's a flicker of something, something that's dark and not at all a good train of thought, across Flint's face when she mentions claws and then silver, but he nods acceptance. "I'm careful," he reaffirms. "I… I made sure, I had the first aid kit with me, too. And."
Alexandra sits on her preferred bench near the lake, the one overlooking the waterfall, along with Flint. She says, "Good. I can't tell you how or when to perform a rite. But then you shouldn't have any problem promising me you'll make sure you have someone with you when you perform the rite? Because that's part of being careful, too."
Flint catches his lower lip between his teeth and bites down on it. "I…" this, however, Flint shakes his head to. "I can't. I can't ask other people to. To be there, Lex. It. I can't."
Now there's a familiar face wandering along the path that leads toward the lake. Ky, air drumming to music reaching only as far as his hearing, looks no worse for the wear for once. A bit dirty and scruffy, still with the unkempt motif of the biker gang it would seem.
Alexandra says, "When I cook, I don't care if others are watching. If they want to help, then they become part of the rite. If it's really bad, I might ask them not to, but even then, I give them what I made. Rites are meant to be shared, Flint. If you can't agree to a promise to have someone with you when you do a rite of thanks or apology, you're going through the motions, but what you're doing is only Feed the Earth in name." She clearly hasn't noticed Ky as yet.
Flint winces, a little, leaning over his lap and neither looking over the water, at the path, or at Lex. "It. It. The rite, I don't. I don't mind. But I can't, ask. If I don't shift, I can't ask someone to need to see that part, Lex. I can't ask them to be there, after."
Ky comes up behind the bench, then sidles off to lean against a nearby tree. He watches the water as well, though his attention is obviously on his packmates. The air drumming ceased, hands tuck into his pants pockets instead, and his own silence is maintained.
Alexandra reaches over to jab him in the chest with her index finger, and not one of her more common friendly pokes. It's a tightly controlled anger, but anger nonetheless. "Then you're admitting that the rite is just an excuse, and you're hiding from the consequences of what you're doing. And I happen to know you're better than that. So yes. You can. You do what you need to do. But you have family, and we WILL be there beside you, even if that means we're wrapping the bandages afterward."
Flint bites down on his lip, a little, at the poke, and that same echo of guilt comes over the packlink, but he nods, acceptance once more. "… okay," he says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the water. His hand encircles his wrist, pushes the sleeve up to trace at the few old scars, things that Lex hasn't even ever seen, though they're thin lines. "Thank you, then. I. I… that, yes. Okay. And I promise. No claws, no silver. Rite or not, I'll be careful about it."
"There's one other problem with making yourself bleed," Ky says quietly, without looking at either of his packmates. "We need you whole, and healthy." And though he doesn't say as much, there is an inkling of understanding for Flint's scars, and the need for what the Galliard has done, through the packlink. Not much, and it's as if he's intentionally keeping it a distant, vague thing. "Don't keep it too long, either."
Alexandra's anger doesn't fade completely, rage slow to wane without a more direct outlet even on a new moon, but the fear and worry driving it are at least diminished, and some of the tension disappears from her posture. "Good." She looks up at Ky, then, as he speaks, forcing a small smile, and offering, "Hey."
A moment of contemplation more and Flint tugs his sleeve down, scars and bare skin covered again, and nods to Ky. "I know," the Glass Walker says, quietly, acknowledgement.
"We'll talk about it," Ky asks of Flint. He watches the Walker for a moment, before completely breaking the sober mood by stepping away from the tree and draping himself over the bench between his packmates. "Guuuys. Lex needs to make us pie."
Alexandra laughs at that. "Did you pick up all the ingredients I asked you for? My mom and dad got me the ice cream maker when I visited them last night, so we're good on that front."
Flint cheers perceptibly at the mention of pie, and ice cream, though there's an entirely serious nod to Ky, first. "That sounds awesome," he says. "I mean, pie, r-really." The guilt that echoes over the packlink from the galliard fades.
"Pie," Kyler states again, fist pumping into the air. "Of course I got everything. I do the shopping. Which is why we have more than mac and cheese and ramen now. Plus, Laila's been supplying foods and even cooking things."
Alexandra says, "Thank goodness. It can be really hard to figure out things to cook with what Nik buys, sometimes." She chuckles a bit. "On the other hand, I've gotten a lot better at improvising on ingredients since I started living at the Vault."
Flint chuckles, pulling his knees up to his chest, a little guarded in his posture as he sits, a little preoccupied still. "That's always a good skill. Translates, improvising, other things," Flint remarks. "Thinking, on your feet, and all."
"It helps," Ky says, pointing a finger toward the sky. "Never know what's going to drop in at the Vault."
Alexandra says, "Well, if we're going to get this done, we should probably get moving. I'm making the pie crust from scratch, which is going to take a little while, and then it's got to actually bake. You guys ready?"
Flint nods. "Sure," Flint says. "Sounds good." There's another faint grin, and he hops off the bench and stands, stretching.
Ky pops off the bench, once more proclaiming, "Pie!" After, he straightens his shirt and jams his hands into his pockets, turning with an exaggerated lean toward the Vault's direction.