Since when…?
Wednesday, 26 December 2012 21:04![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flint_garouI wanna know, okay? So I can be here for you.
26 December, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (91% full).
Flint's sprawled out on the breakroom couch, with a mug of tea, and a cigarette. Despite the cold, his sweatshirt's draped over one arm of the couch, and he's got some hand-me-down short sleeve shirt from the stores of extra clothing on, one earphone in. It's not overly cold in the breakroom, either, someone's been running the heat for a bit.
Rina comes in laden with a couple of foil-covered casserole pans, the kind that go into the freezer and hold delicious Italian food. She wrinkles her nose, and glances over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen. "Since when do you smoke?" she asks. A moment later, she slides everything into the freezer, taking something else out to clear space. She flips the oven on and then turns around to look at him, frowning.
Flint sits up on the couch, and furrows his brow then shrugs his shoulders. "Not much, just. Sometimes it helps," he offers to the kinswoman. "Hi mom." There's warmth in the words, even through the coiled knot of tension—mostly guilt, a little bit of anger by the overall tone of voice—that the teen currently is. "Never much, least. But the moon is…"
That dark expression remains so, but it is a touch softer. "Yeah, aright. Just not around me, I hate that shit, unless it's weed."
Without too much apparent fuss, the cliath goes and stubs out the cigarette in the ash can, waving the smell of it—and at least they're not the nastiest cigarettes in the world—towards the end of the room further from the kinswoman. "Yeah," he agrees. "They're… kinda nasty, really. Don't know how people do it, all. All, regularly. Lex hates them too, just today's been…" Flint sighs, settles back onto the couch, hanging halfway off of the arm and upside down, hair brushing the floor.
Rina looks to him, and lets out a breath. "Sorry," she murmurs. "I'm tense too."
"Sokay," Flint says, the word not forced, but quite tight. Hanging there most of the way upside down seems to work as well as the cigarette for stress relief, or perhaps better. "I. It happens, doesn' it. How. How's Kavi-rhya? How's… everything?"
"Okay," she says quietly. "He's still worked up about… Rose. I caught him out scouting alone the other night, gave him a piece of my mind." She watches him, leaning against the counter. "We really liked our presents."
Flint fidgets with his hands, nods—which might look a bit funny, upside-down. "Yay," he says, quietly. "I'm. I'm… glad. I. Glad you two got them. Didn't… haven't been much for, social recently, but. It's… been, a year," Flint points out. "Just, under a year ago, I didn't… have, anything. Any of this. So, I'm… grateful. Even when it's hard."
Rina comes to him, then, a swift and purposeful cross of the room.
Flint pushes upright so that he's sitting on the couch instead of hanging off of it, looks up when Rina comes over. He's silent, lower lip caught in his teeth.
Tugging him to his feet, she wraps him in a hug. "You just gotta realize that it isn't all bad," she says quietly. "That there are so many good things, you know? And when things get hard, you think about those."
The teen's tense, but hugs back, if carefully. "I know," Flint says, barely above a whisper. "I do. There's lots of good. Enough to be worth. Worth, trying, doing." He glances at Rina and hugs tighter for a moment. When he draws back and away, he sinks back onto the couch. "Do… you and Kavi-rhya, still have… my knife?"
Rina nods, watching him with serious dark eyes. "Yeah."
Flint lets out the breath that he'd been holding, tension easing from his shoulders. "'kay," he acknowledges, nodding slowly. "I… good. I just wanted to… know. Maybe when the… moon is smaller again, I can."
Rina nods. "There's some stuff we gotta work on," she says quietly. "How you deal with people, how you negotiate with people… and just some frame of mind stuff. Cognitive stuff. That should help you."
The young galliard nods, agreement. "I… yeah. I'm working with Nieve-rhya, too. On, just. Getting my shit together long enough. On… being accountable for things. Every morning, for now." Flint's hands loop around his wrists and there's a shiver, clearly both unused to short sleeves and uncomfortable with them, despite the fact that there's rather little scarring visible. "I… because earlier today, and all. Because she saw, wanted. To know if I was okay and I… wasn't. But I am. Or at least, a little more."
Rina nods, watching him. "Good," she says quietly.
Flint fidgets with his wrists. "Shortsleeves, for one," he comments, and then gets the mug, which is empty. Flint gets to his feet and moves over to the kitchen, where the kettle's still up to pour more water into it. "I've… when I needed to, I. Gave Lex my other knife, to keep. And the gun, while I was. At it."
Rina follows him to the kitchen to get a glass of water. "If you're ever… that unsafe, Flint… I wanna know, okay? So I can be here for you. Keep an eye on you." She fills the glass and looks over to him. "Okay?"
This takes Flint a little by surprise and he squints for a moment, then nods. "I was, at the beginning, when, watching Ky. After I… killed it. But I, managed, got through it." A pause, and he nods once more. "I. Will, though. Thanks, mom. I will."
Rina reaches out to touch his hand and take it, that smile coming to her face which only shows in the lines around her eyes. "Thanks."
Flint wraps his hand around Rina's for a moment, squeezes briefly, and nods. There's a wordless swallow, and then Flint leans against the counter and picks up his tea, taking a sip.
"You have dinner?" she asks, with a sidelong glance. Taking up her water, she drinks down a few swallows.
"I had lunch," Flint responds, "an' then pizza." Clearly neither of these things count as dinner, and though he takes a deep breath and visibly steadies himself against the overall tension, the tea seems to be doing enough that continuing to be in the breakroom is in the picture. He looks towards the window for a moment, and manages a grin. "Sky's still blue." Flint's clearly still hungry.
"Mmmhm," she murmurs, checking the oven. "Figured." Taking the pan, she slides it in and closes the oven again.
Flint manages another grin. Not forced, but it takes effort to express nonetheless. "Was distracted. Down punching the punching bag, and then. Meditating some, and." The prospect of food heating cheers Flint immensely, and he moves to get down a plate, carefully, glances at Rina. "Did you, or, you. Want a plate, too?"
"Sure," she answers, a faint wry smile on her lips.
The cliath takes down two plates, setting them on the counter nearby the oven, gets out forks at sets those nearby too, then goes back to fidgeting with the nonexistent sleeves of his shirt. His tea is set down and he goes over to his sweatshirt, pulling something from a pocket. "Look, what. Lex got me. For. Christmas." When Flint returns, he's got a military-style coin, with an image of a falcon on one side, circuit board pattern surrounded by lightning on the other. "And Ky drew something, that. I. It's on, my wall now." Normal things and normal discussion.
Rina flashes a smile at him. And then rubs at the back of her neck. "I figure I'll give mine out at New Years since I, ah, missed Solstice."
"Moon'll be smaller, too," Flint says, brightly, with a grin. The coin is fidgeted with, then slipped into his pocket, and he has a two-inch round medallion of probably cherry wood. "And I… made these. For. Ky and Lex and me." This too has an image of a falcon, quite probably a merlin, perched on a branch, woodburned decoration. The reverse side has neat lettering in small caps, proclaiming 'Requiem'.
Rina studies them, a faint smile coming to her lips. "That's awesome," she says quietly. "You guys need a fourth and a fifth, sometime… maybe the right person will come along.
Flint nods. "Maybe. Hope so. We… haven't found anyone yet, though. Maybe Kitty if she… wants to, if she doesn't have something else she wants, more." The cliath shrugs his shoulders. "Most people, something or… other, doesn't. But, maybe, yeah."
Rina raises both eyebrows. "Really. That'd be kinda wild."
"And Quack's a. She's a theurge," Flint says quietly, sipping his tea again. "I. We'll see." This gets a shrug of his shoulders, and the teen quiets, puts his tea down, and goes to put his sweatshirt on. "Trying," he says to Rina, "but I'm… not. Used to it."
Rina watches him, her gaze focused, eyes narrowed a little. She gives a small nod.
The elevator rumbles, the sound of the gears a bit smoother than it has been recently.
Flint tugs the sleeves of the sweatshirt down to his wrists, but doesn't zip it up, before returning to the kitchen. "But Nieve-rhya said short sleeves, and I can. I can do that, it's just a small thing and I… I get, why."
Rina raises an eyebrow. "Why, then?" she asks him.
"So that, so I. Think, if it gets to that. So I have to think first, not… hide things," the cliath answers, quietly.
The whir of the motor rises in pitch as the car nears the fifth floor, and then halts as the doors open and Kavi steps out.
Rina nods, and glances toward the hall, actually leaving the counter by a step or two.
"She… gets it," Flint says, barely audible, and he looks to the door of the breakroom before looking down to the floor, taking the moment to gain more composure. The cliath's pretty tightly wound, by the stance of his shoulders and the muscles visibly knotted, but also very in control.
A smudge of grease on his cheek, and evidence of his efforts coating his hands, Kavi steps through from the hallway into the breakroom. Apparently lost in thought, it takes him half a second to see those within, and his expression brightens, a small smile touching his lips.
Rina's smile answers it slowly, and she comes to him to give him a swift hug. "No touching me with those hands," she cautions, before rising on tiptoe to kiss him.
Flint makes the almost predictable face. It starts as a brief twist of a smile for the elder Walker galliard, and turns into the 'ew mom and dad are kissing' face and Flint's attention turns to his tea. "Hi, Kavi-rhya."
Kavi returns the kiss, but keeps his hands held out to his sides. "Hey," he says softly, his gaze still on Rina. It remains there for a long moment before he looks across to Flint and offers him a repeat of the greeting. "Hey."
Rina returns to the kitchen, offering, "Lasagna's in the oven if you want some. We forgot to eat dinner, so."
Flint nods, sipping from the tea and otherwise quiet, before he adds. "Still hot water, too. For tea, if."
Kavi looks from one to the other and nods once, but rather than answer aloud, he moves to the kitchen and fumbles with turning on the water with an elbow. "I… If you're eating, I can."
Rina leans down to get out the big pump container of orange Gojo soap, the serious mechanic stuff; she plops it on the counter and prepares to splat some into Kavi's hand.
The cliath sets his tea down on the counter quietly and nods again, moving to get down another plate and set it with the two that are already by the stove, and then there's a stifled yawn followed by a vague permutation of 'upset' in Flint's expression. "When'd I sleep last?" he asks, though it's not so much expecting an answer.
Kavi smiles again, heat rising in his cheeks, and he offers his hands to Rina. At Flint's question, he glances over to the boy, and his brow furrows.
"Last night," Flint answers his own question, reclaiming his tea, and glances to Kavi. "It was… a long day. Is. Is all," the excuse comes, and it's definitely an excuse as much as anything else. "Food first, then I'll. Go try and get some, some. Rest."
26 December, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (91% full).
Flint's sprawled out on the breakroom couch, with a mug of tea, and a cigarette. Despite the cold, his sweatshirt's draped over one arm of the couch, and he's got some hand-me-down short sleeve shirt from the stores of extra clothing on, one earphone in. It's not overly cold in the breakroom, either, someone's been running the heat for a bit.
Rina comes in laden with a couple of foil-covered casserole pans, the kind that go into the freezer and hold delicious Italian food. She wrinkles her nose, and glances over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen. "Since when do you smoke?" she asks. A moment later, she slides everything into the freezer, taking something else out to clear space. She flips the oven on and then turns around to look at him, frowning.
Flint sits up on the couch, and furrows his brow then shrugs his shoulders. "Not much, just. Sometimes it helps," he offers to the kinswoman. "Hi mom." There's warmth in the words, even through the coiled knot of tension—mostly guilt, a little bit of anger by the overall tone of voice—that the teen currently is. "Never much, least. But the moon is…"
That dark expression remains so, but it is a touch softer. "Yeah, aright. Just not around me, I hate that shit, unless it's weed."
Without too much apparent fuss, the cliath goes and stubs out the cigarette in the ash can, waving the smell of it—and at least they're not the nastiest cigarettes in the world—towards the end of the room further from the kinswoman. "Yeah," he agrees. "They're… kinda nasty, really. Don't know how people do it, all. All, regularly. Lex hates them too, just today's been…" Flint sighs, settles back onto the couch, hanging halfway off of the arm and upside down, hair brushing the floor.
Rina looks to him, and lets out a breath. "Sorry," she murmurs. "I'm tense too."
"Sokay," Flint says, the word not forced, but quite tight. Hanging there most of the way upside down seems to work as well as the cigarette for stress relief, or perhaps better. "I. It happens, doesn' it. How. How's Kavi-rhya? How's… everything?"
"Okay," she says quietly. "He's still worked up about… Rose. I caught him out scouting alone the other night, gave him a piece of my mind." She watches him, leaning against the counter. "We really liked our presents."
Flint fidgets with his hands, nods—which might look a bit funny, upside-down. "Yay," he says, quietly. "I'm. I'm… glad. I. Glad you two got them. Didn't… haven't been much for, social recently, but. It's… been, a year," Flint points out. "Just, under a year ago, I didn't… have, anything. Any of this. So, I'm… grateful. Even when it's hard."
Rina comes to him, then, a swift and purposeful cross of the room.
Flint pushes upright so that he's sitting on the couch instead of hanging off of it, looks up when Rina comes over. He's silent, lower lip caught in his teeth.
Tugging him to his feet, she wraps him in a hug. "You just gotta realize that it isn't all bad," she says quietly. "That there are so many good things, you know? And when things get hard, you think about those."
The teen's tense, but hugs back, if carefully. "I know," Flint says, barely above a whisper. "I do. There's lots of good. Enough to be worth. Worth, trying, doing." He glances at Rina and hugs tighter for a moment. When he draws back and away, he sinks back onto the couch. "Do… you and Kavi-rhya, still have… my knife?"
Rina nods, watching him with serious dark eyes. "Yeah."
Flint lets out the breath that he'd been holding, tension easing from his shoulders. "'kay," he acknowledges, nodding slowly. "I… good. I just wanted to… know. Maybe when the… moon is smaller again, I can."
Rina nods. "There's some stuff we gotta work on," she says quietly. "How you deal with people, how you negotiate with people… and just some frame of mind stuff. Cognitive stuff. That should help you."
The young galliard nods, agreement. "I… yeah. I'm working with Nieve-rhya, too. On, just. Getting my shit together long enough. On… being accountable for things. Every morning, for now." Flint's hands loop around his wrists and there's a shiver, clearly both unused to short sleeves and uncomfortable with them, despite the fact that there's rather little scarring visible. "I… because earlier today, and all. Because she saw, wanted. To know if I was okay and I… wasn't. But I am. Or at least, a little more."
Rina nods, watching him. "Good," she says quietly.
Flint fidgets with his wrists. "Shortsleeves, for one," he comments, and then gets the mug, which is empty. Flint gets to his feet and moves over to the kitchen, where the kettle's still up to pour more water into it. "I've… when I needed to, I. Gave Lex my other knife, to keep. And the gun, while I was. At it."
Rina follows him to the kitchen to get a glass of water. "If you're ever… that unsafe, Flint… I wanna know, okay? So I can be here for you. Keep an eye on you." She fills the glass and looks over to him. "Okay?"
This takes Flint a little by surprise and he squints for a moment, then nods. "I was, at the beginning, when, watching Ky. After I… killed it. But I, managed, got through it." A pause, and he nods once more. "I. Will, though. Thanks, mom. I will."
Rina reaches out to touch his hand and take it, that smile coming to her face which only shows in the lines around her eyes. "Thanks."
Flint wraps his hand around Rina's for a moment, squeezes briefly, and nods. There's a wordless swallow, and then Flint leans against the counter and picks up his tea, taking a sip.
"You have dinner?" she asks, with a sidelong glance. Taking up her water, she drinks down a few swallows.
"I had lunch," Flint responds, "an' then pizza." Clearly neither of these things count as dinner, and though he takes a deep breath and visibly steadies himself against the overall tension, the tea seems to be doing enough that continuing to be in the breakroom is in the picture. He looks towards the window for a moment, and manages a grin. "Sky's still blue." Flint's clearly still hungry.
"Mmmhm," she murmurs, checking the oven. "Figured." Taking the pan, she slides it in and closes the oven again.
Flint manages another grin. Not forced, but it takes effort to express nonetheless. "Was distracted. Down punching the punching bag, and then. Meditating some, and." The prospect of food heating cheers Flint immensely, and he moves to get down a plate, carefully, glances at Rina. "Did you, or, you. Want a plate, too?"
"Sure," she answers, a faint wry smile on her lips.
The cliath takes down two plates, setting them on the counter nearby the oven, gets out forks at sets those nearby too, then goes back to fidgeting with the nonexistent sleeves of his shirt. His tea is set down and he goes over to his sweatshirt, pulling something from a pocket. "Look, what. Lex got me. For. Christmas." When Flint returns, he's got a military-style coin, with an image of a falcon on one side, circuit board pattern surrounded by lightning on the other. "And Ky drew something, that. I. It's on, my wall now." Normal things and normal discussion.
Rina flashes a smile at him. And then rubs at the back of her neck. "I figure I'll give mine out at New Years since I, ah, missed Solstice."
"Moon'll be smaller, too," Flint says, brightly, with a grin. The coin is fidgeted with, then slipped into his pocket, and he has a two-inch round medallion of probably cherry wood. "And I… made these. For. Ky and Lex and me." This too has an image of a falcon, quite probably a merlin, perched on a branch, woodburned decoration. The reverse side has neat lettering in small caps, proclaiming 'Requiem'.
Rina studies them, a faint smile coming to her lips. "That's awesome," she says quietly. "You guys need a fourth and a fifth, sometime… maybe the right person will come along.
Flint nods. "Maybe. Hope so. We… haven't found anyone yet, though. Maybe Kitty if she… wants to, if she doesn't have something else she wants, more." The cliath shrugs his shoulders. "Most people, something or… other, doesn't. But, maybe, yeah."
Rina raises both eyebrows. "Really. That'd be kinda wild."
"And Quack's a. She's a theurge," Flint says quietly, sipping his tea again. "I. We'll see." This gets a shrug of his shoulders, and the teen quiets, puts his tea down, and goes to put his sweatshirt on. "Trying," he says to Rina, "but I'm… not. Used to it."
Rina watches him, her gaze focused, eyes narrowed a little. She gives a small nod.
The elevator rumbles, the sound of the gears a bit smoother than it has been recently.
Flint tugs the sleeves of the sweatshirt down to his wrists, but doesn't zip it up, before returning to the kitchen. "But Nieve-rhya said short sleeves, and I can. I can do that, it's just a small thing and I… I get, why."
Rina raises an eyebrow. "Why, then?" she asks him.
"So that, so I. Think, if it gets to that. So I have to think first, not… hide things," the cliath answers, quietly.
The whir of the motor rises in pitch as the car nears the fifth floor, and then halts as the doors open and Kavi steps out.
Rina nods, and glances toward the hall, actually leaving the counter by a step or two.
"She… gets it," Flint says, barely audible, and he looks to the door of the breakroom before looking down to the floor, taking the moment to gain more composure. The cliath's pretty tightly wound, by the stance of his shoulders and the muscles visibly knotted, but also very in control.
A smudge of grease on his cheek, and evidence of his efforts coating his hands, Kavi steps through from the hallway into the breakroom. Apparently lost in thought, it takes him half a second to see those within, and his expression brightens, a small smile touching his lips.
Rina's smile answers it slowly, and she comes to him to give him a swift hug. "No touching me with those hands," she cautions, before rising on tiptoe to kiss him.
Flint makes the almost predictable face. It starts as a brief twist of a smile for the elder Walker galliard, and turns into the 'ew mom and dad are kissing' face and Flint's attention turns to his tea. "Hi, Kavi-rhya."
Kavi returns the kiss, but keeps his hands held out to his sides. "Hey," he says softly, his gaze still on Rina. It remains there for a long moment before he looks across to Flint and offers him a repeat of the greeting. "Hey."
Rina returns to the kitchen, offering, "Lasagna's in the oven if you want some. We forgot to eat dinner, so."
Flint nods, sipping from the tea and otherwise quiet, before he adds. "Still hot water, too. For tea, if."
Kavi looks from one to the other and nods once, but rather than answer aloud, he moves to the kitchen and fumbles with turning on the water with an elbow. "I… If you're eating, I can."
Rina leans down to get out the big pump container of orange Gojo soap, the serious mechanic stuff; she plops it on the counter and prepares to splat some into Kavi's hand.
The cliath sets his tea down on the counter quietly and nods again, moving to get down another plate and set it with the two that are already by the stove, and then there's a stifled yawn followed by a vague permutation of 'upset' in Flint's expression. "When'd I sleep last?" he asks, though it's not so much expecting an answer.
Kavi smiles again, heat rising in his cheeks, and he offers his hands to Rina. At Flint's question, he glances over to the boy, and his brow furrows.
"Last night," Flint answers his own question, reclaiming his tea, and glances to Kavi. "It was… a long day. Is. Is all," the excuse comes, and it's definitely an excuse as much as anything else. "Food first, then I'll. Go try and get some, some. Rest."