Too helpful.

[flint_garou]

They're outside Gaia's proper cycle. They cheat.

15 August, 2012
The moon is in the waning New (Ragabash) Moon phase (13% full).

Flint lays across one of the couches in the lobby at the moment, earphones in, tapping away at his iPad and such, a furrow of concentration on his brow. The rumble of the dryer echoes through the lobby occasionally from the open door to the laundry room.

Norman is buzzed through from the outside world without delay. It seems he's visited often enough of late to be readily recognised. He looks a little tense, but that's normal. He also looks a little thinner even than usual. Someone's forgotten too many meals. He offers Flint a short "hey," and that has probably exhausted his starting word quota.

Flint looks up, one headphone pulled out. There's a wave, then Flint finishes putting away the iPhone in the pocket of his sweatshirt, and manages to half sit up on the couch. "Hi," Flint adds.

"Asked a newspaper-spirit to chase the story," Norman announces, without any lead-up. "Of the Draugr. Leech. But. They don't have an Umbral presence. So he'll probably not find anything."

Flint nods. "I. Thanks, though. Anything might, might help. Kavi-rhya's trying to, hunt it, and all." Though saying 'it' seems to take conscious choice and effort, for Flint.

"They're outside Gaia's proper cycle," the Get says. "They cheat. But. The ring should help a bit now. Hraidar been behaving himself?"

The teen considers this and just grins a bit. It's a more certain expression than many these days. "Real things," Flint says. "Hraidar has, made sure I. Don't, get caught up on. On not real things." The grin turns, for just a moment, into an almost mischievous expression, then fades, as Flint looks down at his shoelaces for a moment. They're not tied together, but something says that Flint half-expected them to be.

Norman spots direction of the Walker's gaze, and he too grins briefly. "He cut a deal with a spider-spirit once. I found myself wrapped up in a cocoon dangling off an Umbral cliff for a while."

Flint chuckles, very quietly, and nods. "Real things are. Are good," the galliard says. There's another glance at his shoelaces as Flint actually sits all the way up. "It, and. Hraidar can be, very clear when. He thinks I'm too distracted, or what."

There's a noise like something being knocked over from the direction of the laundry room, though from the thump, it's nothing hard enough to bounce off of the tile floor. The other distinction is the lack of the noise of the dryer.

"He's probably having a great time," Norman says dryly. "Tricksters don't get enough thanks. Any other news? About anything else. While I'm here."

"Riley is. Is back, from. She got taken to Wolfhome," Flint says, glancing at the laundry room but not getting up. "By, a Griffin spirit. In the park, three. Three weeks ago give or take." Flint purses his lips. "I. Not much else, here. What have, what've I missed, out. Woods, and all?"

"Wyld everywhere. The humans are starting to notice. It's spreading," the Godi says, worry tinging his voice. "And, dreams. Did you have any?"

Flint nods, brow furrowing. "I. Yeah. A big swing, a lot of… it was a bit disconcerting, and then. At the end, there was a girl, or a woman, in. In white. or silver. Chimera?" Flint says, "She. Said something." He pauses again, then says, slower and careful with the words this time. "Said, 'There is no wrong, there is no right, there is only dark and bright. I did not come, I did not go, I cannot change but only show. You cannot win, you cannot lose. But where to stop? That you can choose.' A-and. Buzzing, and then I woke up."

"A swing?" Norman scratches his head thoughtfully. "Hanging from a big tree? I had one like that. Ages ago. Back in the spring. I died in that one. I had one about a woman, with a baby. Just the other day. If felt like… one of THOSE dreams, too. The other sort are usually not as nice."

"A huge tree," Flint says. "I had a dream back in the spring— early spring— about. An… an ark, and then a storm. Mouse-rhya, and Kavi-rhya, and Kevin, and everyone in the Walkers I think had it. And some other people." The boy nods. "Nieve-rhya had a dream… similar. This time around."

"The humans really are going to notice," the Get half-repeats. "We can't go around the entire Bawn edge every day, chopping back new growth and hoping too many people don't get suspicious."

Flint grimaces. "Choose," Flint says, leaning back on the couch and pushing a hand to rub at his forehead. "What does it mean. The. The dreams mean something, but. And what, what's stopping, and how to choose…" he shakes his head. "I know. My. My packmates, they. They were going to WalMart, I showed them that video there was? And they, and their tribe alpha. They said there were five of the, walking flower triffid things, in the field by. By it. That. We're. How long until, the humans notice?"

"They're good at ignoring the things that don't fit," the Get says. "Lucky for us. We need two things. Three. Something to tell the humans so they don't suspect the truth. Something to stop it getting… more. And, knowing what was happening would be nice."

Flint nods again. "Mouse-rhya said this. The, wasps thing happened at another Caern, she heard about. And that the Caern was, stronger, after. But the. In between." There's an amount of frustration in Flint's voice. "I dunno. Extra special good plant fertiliser? I. I've been, combing the internet, so far since the greenhouse burning down, and the. Triffids at WalMart. Nothing else has gotten noticed. Not on papers, blogs, anything."

"They talk about it," Norman notes. "The humans. Pack territory's next to Kent Crossing. They've just, found reasons. The funny weather, and things. But it's not going to keep working. What will humans believe? That isn't the real reason, I mean. Not that we really know that, apart from it being the Wyld."

The Walker chews on his lower lip as he thinks. "Talk hasn't gotten. Gotten here, yet. It. We'd be in, trouble. If. If it did." Flint sighs, frustration edging into his voice, hands clenching. "I'll. I'll go through what Mouse-rhya found on GWnet, again, she left the links. Maybe there's… something more. We. We were trying to find a pattern, when. At the beginning, trying to… find stuff. I— I can still do that."

"GWnet?" the Get queries, looking lost.

Flint grins a little bit. "The. It's the… tribe intranet, pretty much? Secure boards, and things, contact with Glass Walkers in. Other septs, other places," he explains.

"Inter… intra? What?" Norman shakes his head. "Sorry. I… there weren't… that stuff. When I was… before I Changed. I ought to know more. Not… because, there's things I don't understand. And humans do. And I don't know how to tell if it's important?"

Flint shakes his head, swiftly. "'s fine," he assures. "Um. Internet. The web. Except, the— my tribe has a version that's just for us, without. Humans on it, or, or anything. So it's secure." Flint purses his lips. "I never really, had computers much, until. I got here, even. One at school, one that I stole from my grandparents to do homework, but. Nothing else."

Norman shrugs a bit, and finds a seat. His capacity for conversation seems to be exhausted for the moment.

There's another thump from the laundry room, and then another, enough that by the time that Norman finds a seat, Flint's actually looking in the direction. "Hm," the cliath mutters. "Didn't sound like the stove. Or the waters."

"The… waters?" Norman frowns.

"Water bottles," Flint clarifies, a bit haltingly. "There's a. A case, of them. In the laundry room." The teen ticks things off on his fingers, quite clearly trying to figure out what Hraidar has gotten into, then vaults over the back of the couch. "Laundry powder," he says, amused, though he gets out of Hraidar's way as the spirit exits the laundry room, decidedly pleased with himself, and then Flint cranes his head around the doorway inside.

"Ravens are not supposed to be grey all over," the Get comments dryly. The bird caws, and Norman makes a sound that might be a short laugh. "Yes, you smell lemony-fresh. No, you don't look like a bawnfruit. Has he done that before?" he asks of Flint.

Flint is, for a moment, simply outright staring at the floor of the laundry room, and he shakes his head. "No," Flint admits. "Last time, he dumped it on my head."

"Sounds too helpful," the Get says, deadpan. "All you'd need to do is stand under a shower, and you get yourself AND your clothes clean all at once."

Flint laughs quietly. "Helpful would have been dumping one of, the. The water bottles, as a shower," he remarks. Then Flint digs his phone out of his pocket, and takes a picture of the spilled laundry powder, grinning as he does.

The Get squints at the phone, head tilted. The bird tilts his head too, making them look oddly similar. "What's that for? The picture?"

Flint takes a second picture from a second angle. "Because I. Need to sweep it up, so I. I can get, to the dryer?" Flint says. "Hraidar drew in. In the laundry powder." The Glass Walker clearly thinks it's great, though.

"You're an artist now?" Norman exchanges glances with his spirit friend. "Well. You seem to be getting along okay, anyway." he glances back to Flint, although further assurance doesn't seem to be necessary. "Drew what?"

The spirit is quite evidently pleased by all of this, and makes that known, and Flint grins. "Just, patterns and stuff and … that. That really looks like the. The serving spoon from the kitchen upstairs," Flint notices, a clatter in the act of sweeping, before he finishes, coming back with the spoon to offer to Hraidar, and the picture displayed on his phone to show Norman.

The spirit gomps up the spoon, looking both pleased and smug and playing with it in his beak. It makes little 'gling gling' sounds. Norman tries to make sense of the photo, scowling horribly at the tiny screen. "Huh. I'm glad," he says after a pause, abrupt and uncomfortable. "That it's helping."

Flint puts the phone away a moment later and there's a tense smile, and a nod. "Maybe I should see if Nick can. Can get more flatware," is remarked, only vaguely and peripherally related to the previous comments. "Also," Flint adds, after a moment. "We. We could go up to the roof. I. Breath of Gaia," he says. "It. It's better in, woods, pure places. But we have a garden?"

"A garden?" That puzzles Norman, clearly. "But… how?"

"Small one, but. Garden, nonetheless," Flint comments, pointing over at the stairwell. "It. Having growing things is. Is good." Then there's another jerk of his head, and shoulder, before he starts towards it. "And, it makes the roof nice."

Norman exchanges another glance with Hraidar, one of those silent conversation things that friends can sometimes manage, and then the Get falls into step behind the Walker. Hraidar fades back across the Gauntlet, leaving the spoon to land on the floor with a tinkle.

Flint bounds up the stairs about a flight at a time, using that to burn off some of the frustration and energy, and then, opens the doorway to the rooftop. Nearly all the litter has been cleaned out, recently, and there are a few bamboo mats placed in front of the garden area, as well as some areas of the cement that are blood-stained near the potted plants. All of the plants, however, are lush and green, but normal, with no traces of wyld-helped growth, and Flint moves over to sit cross-legged on one of the bamboo mats. "See, garden," he explains.

"Huh. I thought… never mind." the Get shakes his head, his face looking as if he just tatsted something sour. "I still keep finding things I learned, that are wrong. You come up here a lot?"

A few of the plants look like they have no pots at all, and are growing right out of the stone and the building. "When I'm… okay enough to," Flint says, waving at the other one of the bamboo mats that seems to be for sitting on near the garden. "I like the fresh air. I like it smelling like plants, not. Not like, city."

"I met a smell-spirit once," Norman volunteers. "In the city. It didn't really… have an appearance. Just a faint hint of brown in the air, and a smell, and a sort of impression of not-sound… the sound you hear right after a really loud sound, when you can't hear anything because your ears feel muffled? Like that. It smelled of all the things that a city smells of, though, only stronger. I've never come across one, anywhere else."

Flint nods, head tilted up and to one side. "That's neat," Flint remarks. "I. Cities are just, different, mostly. But. We're… there's still, connection to Gaia, and all," and Flint nods to the plants again, fidgeting slightly.

"It's the humans. Getting things all twisted up," Norman says. "Although. Who can really say. How that started."

Flint nods. "Yeah. Anyway, the. Rite, it's about that," Flint says, starting to explain, in his way. "And it's about that connection, remembering that and allowing it to. To help," is the eventual phrasing, and the cliath leans on his knees, thinking. "And then, you do this, every day, the whole moon, the finding somewhere, and. Meditating, through each breath, on Gaia, on that connection." Flint grins, at that point, and it's clear the Walker is using the teaching as a reminder to himself as well.