After the moot.
Saturday, 20 October 2012 20:50![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flint_garouThe moot log can be found here.
After the moot.
20 October 2012
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (37% full).
The lobby is quiet tonight, apart from the rapid sound of typing, and a faint, tinny hum coming from Mouse's earphones. She's sitting near the coffee table, though not on either the couch or the armchairs—no, she has a full blown power chair, which she's so far unmodified apart from a fold away surface to rest her laptop. Whatever she happens to be doing on it right now, she's clearly quite engaged.
There's a quiet knock on the door from outside; inspection would reveal a familiar ragabash on the cameras.
The stairwell door swings open, and Flint crosses over towards the coffee table area, coming into Mouse's field of vision and then waiting for acknowledgement. There's a furrow of brow at the state that the Walker Elder is in.
Mouse's eyes flick toward Flint for the briefest of moments, but whatever she's doing has her focused; she doesn't even grunt at him, and her eyes remain fixed on the screen. The tinny music from her earphones drowns out the quiet knock on the door.
Salem comes up from the basement (it's pretty certain that he wasn't down there earlier), limping heavily and looking, well, pretty exhausted. He eyes Mouse, then slouches bonelessly onto one of the couches. "Ugn."
Flint moves over to get the door, letting Elliot in wordlessly, and then moves back to the arm of the couch. His gaze flicks to Salem, another nod of acknowledgement, and then Flint asks Mouse. "Anything I can get you, Mouse-rhya?"
Elliot steps inside, and the ragabash looks a little tired and a little contemplative. "Hey," he greets Flint, and then catches sight of Salem. "Hey, actually swung by to have a word with you. You have a sec?"
"No," Mouse replies. But this time she does stop typing, lift her eyes from the keyboard, and reach up to push off her earphones. Salem gets a firm nod, followed by a considering glance toward Elliot.
The old halfmoon grimaces, then shoves himself into a more upright position, right leg stretched out. He pushes back a lock of white hair, tucking it behind a battledamaged ear, and nods to the Fianna. "In private, or?"
Flint nods to Elliot and then to Salem. "Salem-rhya, Elliot-rhya? Would either of you like something to drink?" the cliath asks.
Elliot glances toward Flint. "Beer if you have it, water's fine if you don't. Thanks." To Salem, he gives a glance to the rest of the gathered and then shrugs a shoulder. "It'll come out soon enough anyway," he says, "So it doesn't matter." And, as he notices Mouse, he nods her way, too. "Evenin', Mouse."
Mouse jerks her chin toward Elliot. "Hey." She moves one arm back and pushes herself a little more upright in the chair; a single, sharp wince follows, but nothing else. She looks faintly curious.
"Beer," says Salem to Flint, then turns back to Elliot. "All right. What's up?"
Flint nods, pushes to standing and trotting off towards the laundry room, and the fridge in it.
Elliot hooks a thumb in a belt loop. "You're Master of the Challenge," he says, "And so before I do anything, I wanted to tell you about my intention to challenge Silvertip for alpha." It's level and even, and rather confident about it, really.
It's not terribly long after Elliot's arrival that the buzzer sounds again. Flint, at least, would be expecting to see Alexandra and Ky on the monitor along with Draco, since his two packmates had been in touch with him via their packlink before arriving. The trio of Shadow Lords wait patiently out on the porch to be buzzed in.
Something about Mouse's gaze sharpens, and she sits up even straighter, though at the cost of another wince. One hand moves to the controls of her power chair, but she waits to see if Flint goes instead, her attention torn between Elliot and the door.
Salem raises one dark eyebrow. "Well," he says, "as Master of the Challenge, I see nothing wrong with that." A beat. "Speaking personally… I'm damned pleased to hear it." He ignores the door, likely relying on Flint to play doorman tonight.
Flint returns, both beers set abruptly on the coffee table for Elliot and Salem, and then hurries over to do just that, opening the door. And then he moves back to perch on the couch, brow furrowing further as he looks at Mouse.
Nicodemus enters from the stairwell—he's probably been loitering in the 3rd floor apartment he sporadically uses as he wasn't on the 5th floor earlier—and looks around, assessing who all's present in the lobby and offering a wave of greeting. "Meeting go well?"
Elliot gives a hint of a grin at that. "Great. Some time soon. If you could be there for the Challenge and whatnot, that'd be fantastic." He picks up the beer Flint's left, giving him a sidelong thanks, before the new entrant snags his attention. He lifts the beer in greeting. "Don't think I've met you before. Elliot Griffin, Shockwave-That-Follows-The-Blast. Athro New Moon and Righ of the Fianna."
"I don't actually know," Mouse replies, shifting her attention briefly to Nicodemus. "I was…occupied, today." There's a faint muscle twitch in her jaw, and then she gives Flint a squinty look. "What?"
Alexandra comes inside, offering Flint a friendly smile as she moves quickly out of the way so the other two can get in as well. The room gets a quick scan, given that there are several people in it, though it's Mouse whose direction she moves in. A polite nod of greeting once the Walker Theurge can see her, but she waits to be acknowledged before coming too close or speaking, to avoid interrupting.
Ky follows in behind Lex, and like his pack alpha, gives the Walkers and the Righ a polite nod.
Salem, who looks even more wrung-out and tired since Nick saw him earlier, takes a sip of beer… then, after taking in the trio of arriving Shadow Lords, grimaces and slugs back a good half of it. Wiping his mouth, he mutters something in Serbian under his breath.
Draco steps in after Ky and Lex, the Shadow Lord theurge glancing around to take in both the room and the people in it. His gaze settles on each for a second or two, a polite and even affable smile given as greeting. "Evening," he says, and even with only the one small word, the Lord's upper class English accent is clear. Elliot's introduction causes his smile to grow even warmer, and he offers his own introduction not only to the Righ, but to everyone. "It's a pleasure, truly. Arthur Merrick, though the human name is mostly just for paperwork. In our circles, I'm called Draco. The Dragon's Shadow, fostern theurge of the Shadow Lords." Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "Ah, metis as well."
The present arrival of the Shadow Lords seems to be Flint's cue to save himself from Mouse's question, and he turns to watch this, nodding once to Draco. "Well… well enough, I think," Flint says to Nicodemus, sliding to stand and head back for the laundry room again.
Nicodemus looks from Draco to Elliot, apparently the two people he doesn't know. "Nick Dalton. Kin to the Walkers. Fianna?" he says, focusing on Elliot. "Have you heard about Danny recently? One of your kin? Apparently is having some really bad nightmares. The last I heard, and this was about five days ago, he was out at Edgewood being watched over by a Gaian cub, Kitty, while he tried to sleep."
"Danny? Shit. No, I haven't heard from him recently. Thanks, I'll swing by there tomorrow, see what the deal is." To Draco, Elliot sends a faint grin. "Good to meet you."
There's an audible mutter from the laundry room doorway, now, something about 'going to throttle Devon', before Flint further disappears.
"Mouse," the Walker elder says, giving her chair controls a brief jerk so that she rolls to face the oncoming Shadow Lords. "First Strike, Adren Theurge and elder of the Glass Walkers, member of the pack Fidelity, under Sphinx. Metis." There's a faint light in her eyes on this last word, and she appears to be sitting up quite straight in that chair of hers. "Something I can do for you?" She takes in Draco, then the Lords as a whole.
Salem, from his seat on the couch, eyeballs the three Shadow Lords, Draco in particular, and he makes no attempt to disguise is suspicion or distain. "Jack Salem," he says for Draco's benefit. "Called Scar. Adren Philodox of the Glass Walkers, Master of the Challenge, and Alpha of Sagacity pack under Chimera."
Alexandra eyes the direction her packmate disappeared in, brows raising, but apparently decides not to ask. To Mouse, she explains, "Ky and I had been explaining the situation here at Hidden Walk to Draco, and telling him about all of us getting pulled into the dream, and he asked if we'd mind bringing him by so he could meet you."
Draco listens to each introduction. It's clear he takes notice of all the reactions—the Fianna's grin, Salem's suspicious stare, and Mouse's assessment. His own demeanor remains unaffected, regardless. His smile is still warm, and affable. The Walker elder's chair is glanced at, but by no means stared at. Instead, his gaze meets Mouse's directly, and he takes a step or two towards her. "My colleagues were good enough to tell me what's been going on, with the caern and bawn. I thought I'd offer myself as… well, whatever you need, really."
Salem drains the rest of his beer and sets the empty on the coffee table. Folding his arms across his chest, he slouches back against the couch cushions.
Flint returns from the laundry room with a drink, moving over towards the couch. This time, Draco gets an actual polite nod, and an introduction from the cliath. "Flint, Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children. I-uh." A deep breath follows, and Flint continues. "Cliath galliard of the Glass Walkers." Then Flint's attention turns to Elliot. "You, might want to, see if. Ask, Devon, Elliot-rhya. There was something in… late July, Devon said he'd handle it, but. Danny'd shown up in the lobby, and pretty messed up." Then Flint moves to go sit down on the edge of the arm of the couch, again.
Nicodemus opts to linger in the stairwell's doorway, staying out of the way of the various garou gathered, and merely observing unless something is requested of him. Flint's comment, however, seems to merit a glance in the Walker Galliard's direction.
Elliot lifts a hand and rubs a brow; he doesn't look irritated, per se, but more like he's a little exasperated. "And he didn't go to the tribal— nng. Alright. Thanks. I'll do that."
Mouse threads her fingers together under her chin, with elbows braced against both armrests. "When the wasps are gone," she says seriously, "we're going to need every Garou we can get if we hope to reawaken the Caern, theurges especially. I don't know how much work reawakening a Caern will be, but creating one is the most massive undertaking our auspice can attempt. Cleansings, preparatory rites. In the meantime, there's been a lot of dreams to the effect of us choosing when this Wyld surge ends, with consequences for our Caern. Anything more we can figure out about this is vital. How to end it, when the best time would be."
Flint's fingers tighten a little on the bottle of beer after he's taken a sip, and the cliath eventually settles on the arm of the couch, nodding to Elliot.
Alexandra leaves the talk of preparatory rites and dream interpretation to the experts, and instead move to stand near Flint. She regards Elliot for a moment, and then asks, "I've been meaning to ask you… is swordsmanship something you'd be willing to teach?"
Draco's gaze remains on the Walker theurge, taking in what she says with a thoughtful and attentive expression. He offers a nod. "I'd be honored to be a part of it. And, if it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience, Mouse-rhya, I would love a chance to spend some time with you. Watch, learn. Exchange ideas. That sort of thing." After a small pause, the Shadow Lord repeats, "If it's not an inconvenience, of course."
Elliot considers Alexandra. "Yes. But only if you're serious about it. I don't want a change of mind after a month or two." He finishes off the beer, and finds a trash can for the empty bottle. "And yeah," he says to Mouse. "We're hoping to get the scouting trip done soon. The plan is for next week."
Nicodemus looks between Alexandra and Elliot as sword training is brought up and discussed. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly in interest, though he doesn't contribute verbally to the discussion.
"You certainly don't need to ask my permission," Mouse replies, the seriousness cracking just a little. "We're planning a trip to St. Helens, to see if we can find what we might need out there. But in the meantime…" She jerks her chin toward Draco. "Shouldn't be inconvenient at all." Her hand moves on the controls again, and she wheels around toward the laundry room, apparently to fetch her own drink.
Mouse pauses at the edge, to give Elliot a serious, "Good luck in there."
Salem's mouth thins out as he watches Mouse in her chair.
Draco seems pleased by the other theurge's response. after Mouse wheels off, his gaze casually shifts to Salem. Once again, his expression turns thoughtful, and he appears to be studying the Walker halfmoon. He follows Salem's look to Mouse, and then he politely finds something else to look at.
Flint glances at Alexandra, and then nurses the drink, mostly finding somewhere interesting to look at on the far wall.
Alexandra replies, "If you remember the shards of crystal that I fought with during the Great Hunt? Something like that…it wouldn't have been right to cast them aside afterward. So I'll be helping as they're crafted into a pair of blades—daggers for fighting in crinos, which would make make them closer to short swords in this form or glabro. I've only had a few lessons in knives, though, and the other Ahroun that I know either use claws or other weapons, and a warrior needs to know the weapons she'll be wielding far better than that."
"We will be," Elliot replies, though there's a dose of thanks in his tone, too. To Alexandra, he grins a fraction. "Well said. Then yeah, we'll work something out." He digs in his pocket, finds a receipt and a pen, and scrawls a number on the back of it. "Anyway, I'll be going—thanks," he adds, to Salem, and hands Alexandra the paper on the way out. "You guys have a good night."
Mouse clatters around once she's in the laundry room. Starting up coffee, probably. There's a brief, faint curse at the machine, then the sound of the faucet.
Salem touches fingers to his forehead in a half-assed, casual salute to the Fianna Righ.
Nicodemus raises a hand in farewell to the Fianna, still seemingly more comfortable lingering in the relative seclusion of the stairwell's entryway than mingling among the garou. He takes the opportunity to more thoroughly scrutinize the new Shadow Lord.
Flint's brow furrows a little at the sounds from the breakroom. His gaze flicks from the door to the laundry room, to watch Elliot depart, to Salem, then back to the far wall.
Salem stirs himself. "Flint." His tone's all business as he fixes his good eye on the young Galliard. "You and I need to have a talk." He shifts his weight forward, shoves to his feet with a grimace. "Not tonight, however."
Draco waves absently to the retreating Righ, even as he notices Nicodemus's scrutinizing gaze. He returns the look with a pleasant smile, taking the opportunity to approach the kin. "I'm glad to hear the sept keep their kin close."
Alexandra offers Elliot a wave of farewell as she takes the paper, then promptly pulls out her phone and flips it open to type in the contact info. Both phone and paper are tucked into her pocket afterward.
The galliard's manner is all submission and acceptance of what Salem says, a nod followed by a brief showing of throat, one hand looping around the wrist that holds the drink. There's a brief, sidelong glance to the philodox before Flint gives verbal acknowledgement. "Yes Salem-rhya." There's an even, deep breath inhale and exhale.
Salem nods at Flint's answer and then reaches into the neck of his sweater and pulls out a small mirror on a chain. He cocks his head, eyeballing his reflection for a moment, and then vanishes across the Gauntlet with little apparent effort.
Nicodemus turns his head ever so slightly to one side as Draco addresses him and draws nearer. The perceptive can probably assume he's likely got a less-than-stellar opinion of a certain tribe. The gesture is quickly pushed aside though, replaced by formality. "The Glass Walkers here do make a more concerted effort, at least." His gaze looks past Draco, catching Salem as he vanishes into the spirit world. A single word comes forth. "Impressive."
Ky has remained quiet but observant throughout, but finally stirs himself after Elliot and Salem depart. He glances toward Draco and the laundry room where Mouse has taken herself before he settles his gaze on Draco and Nick.
"Excellent," Draco answers the kin. The formality brings an equally respectful nod. After Salem crosses, the Shadow Lord metis looks back to the kin, asking, "Have you ever been to the other side?"
Alexandra says, "He was one of the people who was pulled into the dream that we told you about. And deposited at the center of the caern with us afterward, as well. I don't know if he'd ever been before or not, but he certainly handled himself well the time that I know about."
Flint straightens, eventually, and shoulders into Lex, before glancing about. "I have some, work, upstairs. Pleased to meet you, Draco." And with that, Flint's moving to go past Nicodemus, and upstairs.
Nicodemus raises his left hand to push an errand lock of hair off his faces as he responds with a "No" to Draco's question. Then he seems to reconsider the response. "Maybe?" He goes to elaborate, then nods to Alexandra as she fills Draco in. "A number of those with ties to the sept here awoke in a shared dream about a month and a half ago. I don't know if that was the spirit world, some form of dreamscape, or a mix of the two." As Flint passes by, he offers him a nod.
After the moot.
20 October 2012
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (37% full).
The lobby is quiet tonight, apart from the rapid sound of typing, and a faint, tinny hum coming from Mouse's earphones. She's sitting near the coffee table, though not on either the couch or the armchairs—no, she has a full blown power chair, which she's so far unmodified apart from a fold away surface to rest her laptop. Whatever she happens to be doing on it right now, she's clearly quite engaged.
There's a quiet knock on the door from outside; inspection would reveal a familiar ragabash on the cameras.
The stairwell door swings open, and Flint crosses over towards the coffee table area, coming into Mouse's field of vision and then waiting for acknowledgement. There's a furrow of brow at the state that the Walker Elder is in.
Mouse's eyes flick toward Flint for the briefest of moments, but whatever she's doing has her focused; she doesn't even grunt at him, and her eyes remain fixed on the screen. The tinny music from her earphones drowns out the quiet knock on the door.
Salem comes up from the basement (it's pretty certain that he wasn't down there earlier), limping heavily and looking, well, pretty exhausted. He eyes Mouse, then slouches bonelessly onto one of the couches. "Ugn."
Flint moves over to get the door, letting Elliot in wordlessly, and then moves back to the arm of the couch. His gaze flicks to Salem, another nod of acknowledgement, and then Flint asks Mouse. "Anything I can get you, Mouse-rhya?"
Elliot steps inside, and the ragabash looks a little tired and a little contemplative. "Hey," he greets Flint, and then catches sight of Salem. "Hey, actually swung by to have a word with you. You have a sec?"
"No," Mouse replies. But this time she does stop typing, lift her eyes from the keyboard, and reach up to push off her earphones. Salem gets a firm nod, followed by a considering glance toward Elliot.
The old halfmoon grimaces, then shoves himself into a more upright position, right leg stretched out. He pushes back a lock of white hair, tucking it behind a battledamaged ear, and nods to the Fianna. "In private, or?"
Flint nods to Elliot and then to Salem. "Salem-rhya, Elliot-rhya? Would either of you like something to drink?" the cliath asks.
Elliot glances toward Flint. "Beer if you have it, water's fine if you don't. Thanks." To Salem, he gives a glance to the rest of the gathered and then shrugs a shoulder. "It'll come out soon enough anyway," he says, "So it doesn't matter." And, as he notices Mouse, he nods her way, too. "Evenin', Mouse."
Mouse jerks her chin toward Elliot. "Hey." She moves one arm back and pushes herself a little more upright in the chair; a single, sharp wince follows, but nothing else. She looks faintly curious.
"Beer," says Salem to Flint, then turns back to Elliot. "All right. What's up?"
Flint nods, pushes to standing and trotting off towards the laundry room, and the fridge in it.
Elliot hooks a thumb in a belt loop. "You're Master of the Challenge," he says, "And so before I do anything, I wanted to tell you about my intention to challenge Silvertip for alpha." It's level and even, and rather confident about it, really.
It's not terribly long after Elliot's arrival that the buzzer sounds again. Flint, at least, would be expecting to see Alexandra and Ky on the monitor along with Draco, since his two packmates had been in touch with him via their packlink before arriving. The trio of Shadow Lords wait patiently out on the porch to be buzzed in.
Something about Mouse's gaze sharpens, and she sits up even straighter, though at the cost of another wince. One hand moves to the controls of her power chair, but she waits to see if Flint goes instead, her attention torn between Elliot and the door.
Salem raises one dark eyebrow. "Well," he says, "as Master of the Challenge, I see nothing wrong with that." A beat. "Speaking personally… I'm damned pleased to hear it." He ignores the door, likely relying on Flint to play doorman tonight.
Flint returns, both beers set abruptly on the coffee table for Elliot and Salem, and then hurries over to do just that, opening the door. And then he moves back to perch on the couch, brow furrowing further as he looks at Mouse.
Nicodemus enters from the stairwell—he's probably been loitering in the 3rd floor apartment he sporadically uses as he wasn't on the 5th floor earlier—and looks around, assessing who all's present in the lobby and offering a wave of greeting. "Meeting go well?"
Elliot gives a hint of a grin at that. "Great. Some time soon. If you could be there for the Challenge and whatnot, that'd be fantastic." He picks up the beer Flint's left, giving him a sidelong thanks, before the new entrant snags his attention. He lifts the beer in greeting. "Don't think I've met you before. Elliot Griffin, Shockwave-That-Follows-The-Blast. Athro New Moon and Righ of the Fianna."
"I don't actually know," Mouse replies, shifting her attention briefly to Nicodemus. "I was…occupied, today." There's a faint muscle twitch in her jaw, and then she gives Flint a squinty look. "What?"
Alexandra comes inside, offering Flint a friendly smile as she moves quickly out of the way so the other two can get in as well. The room gets a quick scan, given that there are several people in it, though it's Mouse whose direction she moves in. A polite nod of greeting once the Walker Theurge can see her, but she waits to be acknowledged before coming too close or speaking, to avoid interrupting.
Ky follows in behind Lex, and like his pack alpha, gives the Walkers and the Righ a polite nod.
Salem, who looks even more wrung-out and tired since Nick saw him earlier, takes a sip of beer… then, after taking in the trio of arriving Shadow Lords, grimaces and slugs back a good half of it. Wiping his mouth, he mutters something in Serbian under his breath.
Draco steps in after Ky and Lex, the Shadow Lord theurge glancing around to take in both the room and the people in it. His gaze settles on each for a second or two, a polite and even affable smile given as greeting. "Evening," he says, and even with only the one small word, the Lord's upper class English accent is clear. Elliot's introduction causes his smile to grow even warmer, and he offers his own introduction not only to the Righ, but to everyone. "It's a pleasure, truly. Arthur Merrick, though the human name is mostly just for paperwork. In our circles, I'm called Draco. The Dragon's Shadow, fostern theurge of the Shadow Lords." Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "Ah, metis as well."
The present arrival of the Shadow Lords seems to be Flint's cue to save himself from Mouse's question, and he turns to watch this, nodding once to Draco. "Well… well enough, I think," Flint says to Nicodemus, sliding to stand and head back for the laundry room again.
Nicodemus looks from Draco to Elliot, apparently the two people he doesn't know. "Nick Dalton. Kin to the Walkers. Fianna?" he says, focusing on Elliot. "Have you heard about Danny recently? One of your kin? Apparently is having some really bad nightmares. The last I heard, and this was about five days ago, he was out at Edgewood being watched over by a Gaian cub, Kitty, while he tried to sleep."
"Danny? Shit. No, I haven't heard from him recently. Thanks, I'll swing by there tomorrow, see what the deal is." To Draco, Elliot sends a faint grin. "Good to meet you."
There's an audible mutter from the laundry room doorway, now, something about 'going to throttle Devon', before Flint further disappears.
"Mouse," the Walker elder says, giving her chair controls a brief jerk so that she rolls to face the oncoming Shadow Lords. "First Strike, Adren Theurge and elder of the Glass Walkers, member of the pack Fidelity, under Sphinx. Metis." There's a faint light in her eyes on this last word, and she appears to be sitting up quite straight in that chair of hers. "Something I can do for you?" She takes in Draco, then the Lords as a whole.
Salem, from his seat on the couch, eyeballs the three Shadow Lords, Draco in particular, and he makes no attempt to disguise is suspicion or distain. "Jack Salem," he says for Draco's benefit. "Called Scar. Adren Philodox of the Glass Walkers, Master of the Challenge, and Alpha of Sagacity pack under Chimera."
Alexandra eyes the direction her packmate disappeared in, brows raising, but apparently decides not to ask. To Mouse, she explains, "Ky and I had been explaining the situation here at Hidden Walk to Draco, and telling him about all of us getting pulled into the dream, and he asked if we'd mind bringing him by so he could meet you."
Draco listens to each introduction. It's clear he takes notice of all the reactions—the Fianna's grin, Salem's suspicious stare, and Mouse's assessment. His own demeanor remains unaffected, regardless. His smile is still warm, and affable. The Walker elder's chair is glanced at, but by no means stared at. Instead, his gaze meets Mouse's directly, and he takes a step or two towards her. "My colleagues were good enough to tell me what's been going on, with the caern and bawn. I thought I'd offer myself as… well, whatever you need, really."
Salem drains the rest of his beer and sets the empty on the coffee table. Folding his arms across his chest, he slouches back against the couch cushions.
Flint returns from the laundry room with a drink, moving over towards the couch. This time, Draco gets an actual polite nod, and an introduction from the cliath. "Flint, Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children. I-uh." A deep breath follows, and Flint continues. "Cliath galliard of the Glass Walkers." Then Flint's attention turns to Elliot. "You, might want to, see if. Ask, Devon, Elliot-rhya. There was something in… late July, Devon said he'd handle it, but. Danny'd shown up in the lobby, and pretty messed up." Then Flint moves to go sit down on the edge of the arm of the couch, again.
Nicodemus opts to linger in the stairwell's doorway, staying out of the way of the various garou gathered, and merely observing unless something is requested of him. Flint's comment, however, seems to merit a glance in the Walker Galliard's direction.
Elliot lifts a hand and rubs a brow; he doesn't look irritated, per se, but more like he's a little exasperated. "And he didn't go to the tribal— nng. Alright. Thanks. I'll do that."
Mouse threads her fingers together under her chin, with elbows braced against both armrests. "When the wasps are gone," she says seriously, "we're going to need every Garou we can get if we hope to reawaken the Caern, theurges especially. I don't know how much work reawakening a Caern will be, but creating one is the most massive undertaking our auspice can attempt. Cleansings, preparatory rites. In the meantime, there's been a lot of dreams to the effect of us choosing when this Wyld surge ends, with consequences for our Caern. Anything more we can figure out about this is vital. How to end it, when the best time would be."
Flint's fingers tighten a little on the bottle of beer after he's taken a sip, and the cliath eventually settles on the arm of the couch, nodding to Elliot.
Alexandra leaves the talk of preparatory rites and dream interpretation to the experts, and instead move to stand near Flint. She regards Elliot for a moment, and then asks, "I've been meaning to ask you… is swordsmanship something you'd be willing to teach?"
Draco's gaze remains on the Walker theurge, taking in what she says with a thoughtful and attentive expression. He offers a nod. "I'd be honored to be a part of it. And, if it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience, Mouse-rhya, I would love a chance to spend some time with you. Watch, learn. Exchange ideas. That sort of thing." After a small pause, the Shadow Lord repeats, "If it's not an inconvenience, of course."
Elliot considers Alexandra. "Yes. But only if you're serious about it. I don't want a change of mind after a month or two." He finishes off the beer, and finds a trash can for the empty bottle. "And yeah," he says to Mouse. "We're hoping to get the scouting trip done soon. The plan is for next week."
Nicodemus looks between Alexandra and Elliot as sword training is brought up and discussed. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly in interest, though he doesn't contribute verbally to the discussion.
"You certainly don't need to ask my permission," Mouse replies, the seriousness cracking just a little. "We're planning a trip to St. Helens, to see if we can find what we might need out there. But in the meantime…" She jerks her chin toward Draco. "Shouldn't be inconvenient at all." Her hand moves on the controls again, and she wheels around toward the laundry room, apparently to fetch her own drink.
Mouse pauses at the edge, to give Elliot a serious, "Good luck in there."
Salem's mouth thins out as he watches Mouse in her chair.
Draco seems pleased by the other theurge's response. after Mouse wheels off, his gaze casually shifts to Salem. Once again, his expression turns thoughtful, and he appears to be studying the Walker halfmoon. He follows Salem's look to Mouse, and then he politely finds something else to look at.
Flint glances at Alexandra, and then nurses the drink, mostly finding somewhere interesting to look at on the far wall.
Alexandra replies, "If you remember the shards of crystal that I fought with during the Great Hunt? Something like that…it wouldn't have been right to cast them aside afterward. So I'll be helping as they're crafted into a pair of blades—daggers for fighting in crinos, which would make make them closer to short swords in this form or glabro. I've only had a few lessons in knives, though, and the other Ahroun that I know either use claws or other weapons, and a warrior needs to know the weapons she'll be wielding far better than that."
"We will be," Elliot replies, though there's a dose of thanks in his tone, too. To Alexandra, he grins a fraction. "Well said. Then yeah, we'll work something out." He digs in his pocket, finds a receipt and a pen, and scrawls a number on the back of it. "Anyway, I'll be going—thanks," he adds, to Salem, and hands Alexandra the paper on the way out. "You guys have a good night."
Mouse clatters around once she's in the laundry room. Starting up coffee, probably. There's a brief, faint curse at the machine, then the sound of the faucet.
Salem touches fingers to his forehead in a half-assed, casual salute to the Fianna Righ.
Nicodemus raises a hand in farewell to the Fianna, still seemingly more comfortable lingering in the relative seclusion of the stairwell's entryway than mingling among the garou. He takes the opportunity to more thoroughly scrutinize the new Shadow Lord.
Flint's brow furrows a little at the sounds from the breakroom. His gaze flicks from the door to the laundry room, to watch Elliot depart, to Salem, then back to the far wall.
Salem stirs himself. "Flint." His tone's all business as he fixes his good eye on the young Galliard. "You and I need to have a talk." He shifts his weight forward, shoves to his feet with a grimace. "Not tonight, however."
Draco waves absently to the retreating Righ, even as he notices Nicodemus's scrutinizing gaze. He returns the look with a pleasant smile, taking the opportunity to approach the kin. "I'm glad to hear the sept keep their kin close."
Alexandra offers Elliot a wave of farewell as she takes the paper, then promptly pulls out her phone and flips it open to type in the contact info. Both phone and paper are tucked into her pocket afterward.
The galliard's manner is all submission and acceptance of what Salem says, a nod followed by a brief showing of throat, one hand looping around the wrist that holds the drink. There's a brief, sidelong glance to the philodox before Flint gives verbal acknowledgement. "Yes Salem-rhya." There's an even, deep breath inhale and exhale.
Salem nods at Flint's answer and then reaches into the neck of his sweater and pulls out a small mirror on a chain. He cocks his head, eyeballing his reflection for a moment, and then vanishes across the Gauntlet with little apparent effort.
Nicodemus turns his head ever so slightly to one side as Draco addresses him and draws nearer. The perceptive can probably assume he's likely got a less-than-stellar opinion of a certain tribe. The gesture is quickly pushed aside though, replaced by formality. "The Glass Walkers here do make a more concerted effort, at least." His gaze looks past Draco, catching Salem as he vanishes into the spirit world. A single word comes forth. "Impressive."
Ky has remained quiet but observant throughout, but finally stirs himself after Elliot and Salem depart. He glances toward Draco and the laundry room where Mouse has taken herself before he settles his gaze on Draco and Nick.
"Excellent," Draco answers the kin. The formality brings an equally respectful nod. After Salem crosses, the Shadow Lord metis looks back to the kin, asking, "Have you ever been to the other side?"
Alexandra says, "He was one of the people who was pulled into the dream that we told you about. And deposited at the center of the caern with us afterward, as well. I don't know if he'd ever been before or not, but he certainly handled himself well the time that I know about."
Flint straightens, eventually, and shoulders into Lex, before glancing about. "I have some, work, upstairs. Pleased to meet you, Draco." And with that, Flint's moving to go past Nicodemus, and upstairs.
Nicodemus raises his left hand to push an errand lock of hair off his faces as he responds with a "No" to Draco's question. Then he seems to reconsider the response. "Maybe?" He goes to elaborate, then nods to Alexandra as she fills Draco in. "A number of those with ties to the sept here awoke in a shared dream about a month and a half ago. I don't know if that was the spirit world, some form of dreamscape, or a mix of the two." As Flint passes by, he offers him a nod.