Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2012-09-23 01:21 pm
flint_garou) wrote2012-09-23 01:21 pm
Entry tags:
Haven't got much.
"I should be askin' you, really."
23 September, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (52% full).
Flint's settled in the breakroom at the moment, having finished whatever chores, and now busying himself playing video games, Mario at the moment, with the volume very soft so that it can't really be heard even at the doorway. There's a half-full bottle of hard cider from the fridge on the coffee table, and a bowl of pasta. To the other side, safely away from the food, is an older model Kindle Fire, cord trailing off to a plug somewhere behind the couch. The cliath is wearing loose jeans, and a muscle-tee style black shirt—although his sweatshirt is right next to him—and thoroughly engrossed in the video game.
Nieve has been Walker-in-absentia these last few weeks. The majority of every day has been spent at Harbour Park, holding court for the Lucent Witness, and she's slept variously at Terminus, Edgewood, or rough. She's finally come back here to get a meal however, heading into the breakroom with an angle towards the kitchen.
The arrival of one of his tribemates is enough to startle Flint and get him to pause the game, waving to Nieve. "Hi, Nieve-rhya," he calls out. Controller is set aside, and Flint reaches for his drink, taking a long sip.
"Flint," Nieve greets quietly, beginning to fix herself a monster sandwich, throwing in whatever happens to be in the fridge and cupboards until it's almost too big to fit in her mouth. Apparently, she hungers. "S'up?"
Flint settles back onto the couch, downs the remaining third of the bottle, then gets up to bring it to the kitchen. "Mario. Not much else, waiting. Mr. Dalton went on a trip, when he gets back, he's going to, to. Take me over to the lumber yard, we're. Getting wood that, to. I'm going to make a new dining table, for the breakroom." There's a faint grin on Flint's face, and the very slight but noticeable effect of alcohol easing the usual hesitation in speech if not the stutter or the difficulty with the words themselves.
"D'you ever meet Danny? Fianna kin. He's a carpenter, did some fuckin' gorgeous work down at Terminus," Nieve asks after stuffing one end of the sandwich into her mouth, biting down and chewing hungrily. Swallow. "When you're sprung outta here, might be worth askin' if you can travel with him to some jobs. See how it works as a profession."
Flint tilts his head to one side, and then shakes his head. "I don't think, I did, that. Not that I know of?" That said, Flint looks at the fridge for a long moment, thoughtful, before eventually fetching himself a glass of water. "I. That'd be, neat. Mostly, I just like. Making things, and like the. Making, itself. I. We did bookshelves, and some furniture, in shop, at. My last school. And, Mr. Dalton said he, might have a few connections he can get, to. Somewhere I could, sell the pieces I make." Flint purses his lips. "I don't know so much, about. Going to jobs that, with. People, and such. Just the work, helps me… focus. Helps with all the— everything, too. And I'm not… grounded so much, anymore. Just have to be with, another Garou, if I'm out in the city. Can go to Edgewood, and, whatever."
"Worth thinkin' about when you're free again," Nieve finishes, along with the first half of her sandwich being wolfed down. "I'll dig out his number for you." She rifles through jeans and jacket pockets to get her phone, and pulls up the number.
Flint nods, taking out his own phone and making a note with the number when Nieve's gotten it. Then the cup of water is considered, and Flint eventually goes for the fridge to come out with another bottle of cider, and both are carried back over to the couch. "Yeah," he agrees. "It. Anything, interesting, new lately?"
"Askin' the wrong person," Nieve notes. "I'm spendin' all day, every day, up in Harbour Park courting the Lucent Witness for our people. Takes a lot of time. I should be askin' you, really."
Another nod from the galliard, and a slightly annoyed look shot at the floor. "Haven't got much," Flint responds, pausing to fumble with the bottle opener that he's got on the table. "Mouse-rhya, my packmates, some others. Dream that turned into not dream, they. Woke up in the Caern, with wasps. Mouse-rhya wants the no moons, coordinate with Lefty-rhya. Lefty-rhya and Kavi-rhya still haven't, found much, anything. Hard to get news, being grounded."
"Yeah? Got any more 'bout Mouse-rhya an' the rest?" Nieve asks, sounding interested as she begins to devour the second half of her monster sandwich.
Flint takes a long sip from the bottle of cider, which clearly has gone from 'something that tastes good to drink' to 'something to cope with', and shakes his head even as he speaks. "Mitzi Weasel-Follows-Omens died, did not, follow Mouse's order in. When they were in the nest. They. Mouse-rhya, thought of something, from seeing it, but. You… maybe ask Riley. Riley was there. So was Nick."
"Mmn." Nieve turns her gaze to Flint now, dark eyes fixed on the Cliath. Nothing spoken, just the silent resting of her full attention on the other Walker.
Flint scoots onto the couch, setting drink aside to pull his sweatshirt on despite that it's not terribly cool overall in the breakroom. "No one was there really, seems. Wants to, talk about it much." Flint doesn't seem to blame them, either. "Other than, that. They, before they woke up in the Caern. Had some sort of, other, more dream-like, dream that. Was shared, that." The galliard chews on his lower lip, and shrugs his shoulders, and more or less drops the subject into silence.
Nieve continues to study Flint for a long moment, then simply nods, finishing her sandwich and picking bits off the plate, not letting any crumbs escape. Apparently, she was hungry. "Alright. Gracias."
Flint continues to look down, away, and generally introspective and uncomfortable before he eventually reaches for his drink again. And not the water. "Sure," he says, eventually. "I. I've been, thinking. About what I'd. Want, to learn, see, get. From the Lucent Witness. But I'm not… sure, yet. Or, overall, at all." His lips purse more with the attempt at changing the subject.
"I've spoken with all of the memories it holds," Nieve murmurs ever-so quietly. "There's a dizzying array of wisdom and power within the fetish, Flint. It may not be able to offer everything, but there is surely something you'll benefit from."
The cliath nods, thoughtful. "That's, just it. There's. So much, and, even. Any one thing, the opportunity. Is amazing," Flint says, voice quiet. "But I'm not sure. Where to start. I think, I'm going to… do Dance of Lights more, thinking on it, probably. See if that helps me, to narrow down. I'd… like it, if. Something that, helped. Either with, something that I could learn that would, benefit, the whole. Or that could. Help with, with things, getting through things and dealing, something that, maybe it could, make things click and like, help." His voice goes tense again, and quiet, and he glances at the adren, once.
"A'right. Think on it. Tell Chit-Chat if you need me t'come here an' do the court with you on this side," Nieve bids, rising to her feet slowly, stretching out tired muscles.
Flint offers Nieve a smile, and settles back into the couch a little bit further. "I. I will. Or, I. If someone takes me over to the park, that'd work, too," he says. "But it, might be better, that, here," Flint admits after a moment longer. "Thanks." The controller is fidgeted with, silently.
A nod from the Adren, and then she steps out, to get some much-needed rest.
23 September, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (52% full).
Flint's settled in the breakroom at the moment, having finished whatever chores, and now busying himself playing video games, Mario at the moment, with the volume very soft so that it can't really be heard even at the doorway. There's a half-full bottle of hard cider from the fridge on the coffee table, and a bowl of pasta. To the other side, safely away from the food, is an older model Kindle Fire, cord trailing off to a plug somewhere behind the couch. The cliath is wearing loose jeans, and a muscle-tee style black shirt—although his sweatshirt is right next to him—and thoroughly engrossed in the video game.
Nieve has been Walker-in-absentia these last few weeks. The majority of every day has been spent at Harbour Park, holding court for the Lucent Witness, and she's slept variously at Terminus, Edgewood, or rough. She's finally come back here to get a meal however, heading into the breakroom with an angle towards the kitchen.
The arrival of one of his tribemates is enough to startle Flint and get him to pause the game, waving to Nieve. "Hi, Nieve-rhya," he calls out. Controller is set aside, and Flint reaches for his drink, taking a long sip.
"Flint," Nieve greets quietly, beginning to fix herself a monster sandwich, throwing in whatever happens to be in the fridge and cupboards until it's almost too big to fit in her mouth. Apparently, she hungers. "S'up?"
Flint settles back onto the couch, downs the remaining third of the bottle, then gets up to bring it to the kitchen. "Mario. Not much else, waiting. Mr. Dalton went on a trip, when he gets back, he's going to, to. Take me over to the lumber yard, we're. Getting wood that, to. I'm going to make a new dining table, for the breakroom." There's a faint grin on Flint's face, and the very slight but noticeable effect of alcohol easing the usual hesitation in speech if not the stutter or the difficulty with the words themselves.
"D'you ever meet Danny? Fianna kin. He's a carpenter, did some fuckin' gorgeous work down at Terminus," Nieve asks after stuffing one end of the sandwich into her mouth, biting down and chewing hungrily. Swallow. "When you're sprung outta here, might be worth askin' if you can travel with him to some jobs. See how it works as a profession."
Flint tilts his head to one side, and then shakes his head. "I don't think, I did, that. Not that I know of?" That said, Flint looks at the fridge for a long moment, thoughtful, before eventually fetching himself a glass of water. "I. That'd be, neat. Mostly, I just like. Making things, and like the. Making, itself. I. We did bookshelves, and some furniture, in shop, at. My last school. And, Mr. Dalton said he, might have a few connections he can get, to. Somewhere I could, sell the pieces I make." Flint purses his lips. "I don't know so much, about. Going to jobs that, with. People, and such. Just the work, helps me… focus. Helps with all the— everything, too. And I'm not… grounded so much, anymore. Just have to be with, another Garou, if I'm out in the city. Can go to Edgewood, and, whatever."
"Worth thinkin' about when you're free again," Nieve finishes, along with the first half of her sandwich being wolfed down. "I'll dig out his number for you." She rifles through jeans and jacket pockets to get her phone, and pulls up the number.
Flint nods, taking out his own phone and making a note with the number when Nieve's gotten it. Then the cup of water is considered, and Flint eventually goes for the fridge to come out with another bottle of cider, and both are carried back over to the couch. "Yeah," he agrees. "It. Anything, interesting, new lately?"
"Askin' the wrong person," Nieve notes. "I'm spendin' all day, every day, up in Harbour Park courting the Lucent Witness for our people. Takes a lot of time. I should be askin' you, really."
Another nod from the galliard, and a slightly annoyed look shot at the floor. "Haven't got much," Flint responds, pausing to fumble with the bottle opener that he's got on the table. "Mouse-rhya, my packmates, some others. Dream that turned into not dream, they. Woke up in the Caern, with wasps. Mouse-rhya wants the no moons, coordinate with Lefty-rhya. Lefty-rhya and Kavi-rhya still haven't, found much, anything. Hard to get news, being grounded."
"Yeah? Got any more 'bout Mouse-rhya an' the rest?" Nieve asks, sounding interested as she begins to devour the second half of her monster sandwich.
Flint takes a long sip from the bottle of cider, which clearly has gone from 'something that tastes good to drink' to 'something to cope with', and shakes his head even as he speaks. "Mitzi Weasel-Follows-Omens died, did not, follow Mouse's order in. When they were in the nest. They. Mouse-rhya, thought of something, from seeing it, but. You… maybe ask Riley. Riley was there. So was Nick."
"Mmn." Nieve turns her gaze to Flint now, dark eyes fixed on the Cliath. Nothing spoken, just the silent resting of her full attention on the other Walker.
Flint scoots onto the couch, setting drink aside to pull his sweatshirt on despite that it's not terribly cool overall in the breakroom. "No one was there really, seems. Wants to, talk about it much." Flint doesn't seem to blame them, either. "Other than, that. They, before they woke up in the Caern. Had some sort of, other, more dream-like, dream that. Was shared, that." The galliard chews on his lower lip, and shrugs his shoulders, and more or less drops the subject into silence.
Nieve continues to study Flint for a long moment, then simply nods, finishing her sandwich and picking bits off the plate, not letting any crumbs escape. Apparently, she was hungry. "Alright. Gracias."
Flint continues to look down, away, and generally introspective and uncomfortable before he eventually reaches for his drink again. And not the water. "Sure," he says, eventually. "I. I've been, thinking. About what I'd. Want, to learn, see, get. From the Lucent Witness. But I'm not… sure, yet. Or, overall, at all." His lips purse more with the attempt at changing the subject.
"I've spoken with all of the memories it holds," Nieve murmurs ever-so quietly. "There's a dizzying array of wisdom and power within the fetish, Flint. It may not be able to offer everything, but there is surely something you'll benefit from."
The cliath nods, thoughtful. "That's, just it. There's. So much, and, even. Any one thing, the opportunity. Is amazing," Flint says, voice quiet. "But I'm not sure. Where to start. I think, I'm going to… do Dance of Lights more, thinking on it, probably. See if that helps me, to narrow down. I'd… like it, if. Something that, helped. Either with, something that I could learn that would, benefit, the whole. Or that could. Help with, with things, getting through things and dealing, something that, maybe it could, make things click and like, help." His voice goes tense again, and quiet, and he glances at the adren, once.
"A'right. Think on it. Tell Chit-Chat if you need me t'come here an' do the court with you on this side," Nieve bids, rising to her feet slowly, stretching out tired muscles.
Flint offers Nieve a smile, and settles back into the couch a little bit further. "I. I will. Or, I. If someone takes me over to the park, that'd work, too," he says. "But it, might be better, that, here," Flint admits after a moment longer. "Thanks." The controller is fidgeted with, silently.
A nod from the Adren, and then she steps out, to get some much-needed rest.