Talking with Nick a little.
Friday, 10 August 2012 20:03![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flint_garouKeep it up.
10 August, 2012
The moon is in the waning Half (Philodox) Moon phase (44% full).
Nicodemus is seated on the couch, futzing about with the Xbox 360. Modern Warfare 3 seems to be his poison of choice this evening. Solo play in the short mission mode. Ongame, he makes ample use of cover—popping out every so often to spray an area with an SMG and then ducking behind cover. It's more tactical than balls-to-the-wall. He doesn't seem to be particularly good, though.
Flint comes into the breakroom at a slow walk, turning for the kitchen after, with a nod to Nicodemus. And then a moment later, a spirit materialises in the rough area above the table, lands on the chair. The raven spirit is between two and three feet high, and watches the cliath predominantly, it would seem. Flint goes for the fridge, then absent-mindedly adds, "Hraidar? Nick Dalton. Nick? Hraidar. Norman-rhya's… spirit friend. He's. Keeping me company." The introduction comes as Flint finds a water bottle and some fruit from the fridge, a bunch of grapes.
Nicodemus starts as the large spirit appears, but then the initial surprise is almost immediately replaced by curiosity. "I don't believe I've met Norman yet," the kin claims, eyes still taking in the materialized spirit. "It's pretty rare for one of them to be on this side, I take it?"
The galliard takes some of the grapes, and one bunch of them get given to the spirit, who momentarily preens the teen's hand with his beak. "It. Sometimes? This… inside here's, safe, so. That's part of why." Flint shrugs, quietly. "What're you playing?"
The screen goes red as the video game character is killed. Nick doesn't seem to care one bit, though. "Modern Warfare 3," he replies, eyeballing the spirit warily. "It's not dangerous, is it?"
It's impossible to tell whether the spirit actually understands the discussion going on, and Flint shakes his head. "No. Not to, you." The Walker grins a little. "He. Not it," is added.
"Well," Nick says somewhat begrudgingly, as if not entirely convinced the spirit is harmless. "I guess. At least it's much prettier to look at than that cockroach spirit Nieve summoned up once." He asks, "So how is it keeping you company and why doesn't it fly off?"
"He," Flint corrects again, leaning on the far edge of the table.
Nicodemus briefly looks away from the spirit to Flint, then back to the spirit. He's clearly suspicious of it. "So how is he keeping you company? And why?"
Flint shrugs his shoulders once. "By being here? And, such." Flint states this like it's the most obvious thing in the world, really. "And, because it's helpful, right now. Norman-rhya asked him to, so, he is, for the most part."
Nicodemus hmms. It's almost, but not quite, a grumble. He looks away from it and to the young garou instead. "You do seem to be doing better." A sidelong glance is shot back at the bird after Nick makes his observation.
Hraidar hasn't moved aside from eating all of the grapes, and turning to cant his head at Flint, who nods a bit. "It's okay, now, mostly. Sometimes, but. Having company helps." Flint finishes a few more grapes, then tosses the rest back to the spirit with a bit of a grin.
"Whatever you've been doing, keep it up. It is most definitely working," Nick says as he gets up and takes a long path towards the room's exit. "I've got to go. I'll touch base with you later, 'kay?"
10 August, 2012
The moon is in the waning Half (Philodox) Moon phase (44% full).
Nicodemus is seated on the couch, futzing about with the Xbox 360. Modern Warfare 3 seems to be his poison of choice this evening. Solo play in the short mission mode. Ongame, he makes ample use of cover—popping out every so often to spray an area with an SMG and then ducking behind cover. It's more tactical than balls-to-the-wall. He doesn't seem to be particularly good, though.
Flint comes into the breakroom at a slow walk, turning for the kitchen after, with a nod to Nicodemus. And then a moment later, a spirit materialises in the rough area above the table, lands on the chair. The raven spirit is between two and three feet high, and watches the cliath predominantly, it would seem. Flint goes for the fridge, then absent-mindedly adds, "Hraidar? Nick Dalton. Nick? Hraidar. Norman-rhya's… spirit friend. He's. Keeping me company." The introduction comes as Flint finds a water bottle and some fruit from the fridge, a bunch of grapes.
Nicodemus starts as the large spirit appears, but then the initial surprise is almost immediately replaced by curiosity. "I don't believe I've met Norman yet," the kin claims, eyes still taking in the materialized spirit. "It's pretty rare for one of them to be on this side, I take it?"
The galliard takes some of the grapes, and one bunch of them get given to the spirit, who momentarily preens the teen's hand with his beak. "It. Sometimes? This… inside here's, safe, so. That's part of why." Flint shrugs, quietly. "What're you playing?"
The screen goes red as the video game character is killed. Nick doesn't seem to care one bit, though. "Modern Warfare 3," he replies, eyeballing the spirit warily. "It's not dangerous, is it?"
It's impossible to tell whether the spirit actually understands the discussion going on, and Flint shakes his head. "No. Not to, you." The Walker grins a little. "He. Not it," is added.
"Well," Nick says somewhat begrudgingly, as if not entirely convinced the spirit is harmless. "I guess. At least it's much prettier to look at than that cockroach spirit Nieve summoned up once." He asks, "So how is it keeping you company and why doesn't it fly off?"
"He," Flint corrects again, leaning on the far edge of the table.
Nicodemus briefly looks away from the spirit to Flint, then back to the spirit. He's clearly suspicious of it. "So how is he keeping you company? And why?"
Flint shrugs his shoulders once. "By being here? And, such." Flint states this like it's the most obvious thing in the world, really. "And, because it's helpful, right now. Norman-rhya asked him to, so, he is, for the most part."
Nicodemus hmms. It's almost, but not quite, a grumble. He looks away from it and to the young garou instead. "You do seem to be doing better." A sidelong glance is shot back at the bird after Nick makes his observation.
Hraidar hasn't moved aside from eating all of the grapes, and turning to cant his head at Flint, who nods a bit. "It's okay, now, mostly. Sometimes, but. Having company helps." Flint finishes a few more grapes, then tosses the rest back to the spirit with a bit of a grin.
"Whatever you've been doing, keep it up. It is most definitely working," Nick says as he gets up and takes a long path towards the room's exit. "I've got to go. I'll touch base with you later, 'kay?"