Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2013-01-04 08:00 am
flint_garou) wrote2013-01-04 08:00 am
Entry tags:
More things to do.
Flint and Nieve talk, because something's bothering him. Then again, when isn't it?
4 January, 2013
The moon is in the waning Half (Philodox) Moon phase (52% full).
It's significantly earlier than the appointed meeting time, and Flint's down in the basement, working away at the punching bag, the few things he usually has in a pile near the nearby mats. The cliath's jaw is set, stubbornly, and he looks like he's been at it a while… or like he just never really went to sleep.
The Adren arrives down here a few minutes before eight, a little bleary-eyed and yawny. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs however, blinking sleep away and eyeing the cliath. "Requiem? Somethin' bothers you?"
Thump. Thump thump. There's a surprising amount of force in the attack on the punching bag, as if Flint's using all of his strength to do so—and then some, concerted effort enough that he barely notices Nieve arrive. "Kavi'n'I fought last night, kind of," Flint explains when he finally stops. "I was being stupid."
"What were you doing?" Nieve asks frankly, finding something to settle down on, gently relocating some cockroaches off the furniture and onto her lap as she does so.
The cliath continues punching the bag in between words, enough that he's focused on it, on speaking. "I felt useless, just. Being here. Kavi-rhya, doing… everything, trying to. Find her— it." The guilt is apparent in Flint's voice enough that he doesn't have to verbalise where he lays the blame. "I… stopped thinking, tried to. Leave, go out there. Kavi-rhya wouldn't let me. We kind of might. Have yelled a lot."
"Have you apologised?" Nieve asks, dreadlocks swaying slightly as she tilts her head, dark eyes fixed on the Cliath.
Flint nods once. "We. Both did, yeah. It. It was just, tension running high and." Thump. The exercise is just shy of burning off Rage, but it's definitely burning off steam. "It still. It's." Thump. Fling bites down on his lower lip, grits his teeth a little. "looking at it, I. I don't, get. I tried to go even though I, know. That, not going out alone. For now."
The Theurge nods slightly. "We all do stupid shit when we're mad. Especially on auspices. The trick is learning to know when it's hitting you."
A bit longer, and then Flint stops, stills the bag, and nods. "It wasn't even, auspice, anymore. I was just… and Kavi-rhya getting upset didn't. It. Made me upset, at myself. For causing it." There's a glance over to Nieve, and Flint silences, trying to steady his breathing.
There's another slight nod from Nieve. "So what will you do next time?" she asks quietly, her gaze steady on the Cliath.
There's only so much success that Flint has, and the breaths in are ragged with the last vestiges of being upset. "I want to, to. Help," is what he says, not directly an answer to the question that was asked. "I can't keep myself, busy enough, to. I want to help, not feel, useless."
The Adren lifts a hand to beckon the Cliath over. "Then we will find you other work to do. Does your duty to Unfettered not provide some work?"
Flint moves over to his stuff to grab the handtowel first, and wipes his forehead and neck as he moves over to crouch near where Nieve sits. "Not, not much, overall. Not while, I can't be out in the city, alone."
There is a thoughtful look from Nieve. "Who is it who gave that command? I have a suggestion," she muses quietly.
Flint looks down at one finger, and idly fidgets with a mood ring for a moment longer, before looking at Nieve. "Kavi-rhya, but with. Mouse-rhya's input, and Salem-rhya's, I think. It's. We. I promised on the promise rite, on something… important."
Nieve nods thoughtfully. "I will ask. I have an idea that may help. I cannot promise anything, because I will not give orders against any of those three, but I will ask."
Flint nods. "The promise," he says, then pauses quietly. "It's helped. A lot. I. Will not leave on my own. I will not go find Rose, nor contact her, for any reasons. I will stay in this building, and the company and supervision of Garou who are aware of what has happened." That's offered, explanation as much as reminder to himself, though apparently there's some flexibility as far as it goes, in the wording of the promise, times the cliath's been able to go from point A to point B, things that don't count as leaving, intent as much as anything.
"Hmmmn. So, would you be able to go out to do a specific errand if asked?" Nieve enquires, scratching a hand back through her dreadlocks.
Flint carefully gets to sitting crosslegged, a few cockroaches allowed to climb over one hand. "Probably? If I… if I'm calm enough. If I'm coming back, it's not. It's not leaving," Flint explains. "Going, but not leaving."
There's another nod from Nieve. "Alright. Then, I would like you to do a number of errands for me. It will involve travelling around the city. It will involve speaking to some specific people and specific spirits, most of whom will understand at least the Mother Tongue. A few hours a day—it would free up my time a fair bit," she explains.
Flint nods to Nieve. "I'm. Mouse-rhya said I'm supposed to be with someone, when I'm in the city. As long as, it's. Out there." There's a sigh. "But, if I can, I. I'd, like that," he adds, though the cliath doesn't seem so convinced on the feasibility. "It. I'm. Also, not supposed to. Not at night. Because at night."
"I will speak to Mouse," Nieve nods. "And I will ask. We will see how it goes," she murmurs quietly. "In the meantime, if you need company around the Tenement, Chit-Chat is usually available to talk. God knows he thrives on it. Do you want his number?"
Flint pulls out his phone, nods. "Sure, yes," Flint agrees. "It. Sometimes when I can go to the park, I. Do that, but sometimes I… can't." The cliath does seem to have a grip on when he might or might not be breaking the aforementioned promise.
"Alright." Nieve offers the number. "He usually stays shadowside because it takes a lot of energy for him to be over here, but he can be texted regardless," she offers with a smile. "I just hope you are good at reading textspeak."
The galliard puts the number into his phone, quickly tapping on the screen of the iPhone without ever looking at it, then carefully slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Yeah," Flint says, nodding. "That's. It'll, give me more, something to do," he agrees, then yawns, running his fingers through his hair. "And to, respond to. Interact rather than just, doing, all the time, because even if… not being alone. Sometimes it feels, alone."
"If you feel particularly industrious, you can help with the chiminage towards him," Nieve suggests. "Which largely consists of leaving out bowls of sugar solution when it is sunny, taking the time to smell and enjoy the colour of flowers, and sending a lot of texts or instant messages from a computer."
Flint grins. "I can do that," Flint agrees, and manages a bare attempt at humour. "Sunny? What's sunny, it's been cold for. Weeks, now." Which turns not quite bitter, but perhaps contemplative, or perhaps just grateful. "Will be so happy to. See the sun, again."
"It is sunny right now," Nieve tells the boy with a laugh. "Go up onto the roof or something. Enjoy the brightness, if not the warmth."
Flint brings out his phone again and glances at the time, then makes a slight 'oh' face, pulling his sweatshirt on. Carefully, the few cockroaches that have climbed onto the boy are left alone, and he moves to hug Nieve, though the tension is there in his posture. "Then I. I… might, sleep, a while," he says, a yawn following. "Thanks. I. I didn't… do anything worse than just. Punching the punching bag a lot. Even when I was, upset. I. I think, I'm… okay, now."
The hug is returned, and Nieve is pretty damned good at them, even allowing for her tiny stature. Squeeeze. "Sleep well, Flint. We'll talk more tomorrow."
4 January, 2013
The moon is in the waning Half (Philodox) Moon phase (52% full).
It's significantly earlier than the appointed meeting time, and Flint's down in the basement, working away at the punching bag, the few things he usually has in a pile near the nearby mats. The cliath's jaw is set, stubbornly, and he looks like he's been at it a while… or like he just never really went to sleep.
The Adren arrives down here a few minutes before eight, a little bleary-eyed and yawny. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs however, blinking sleep away and eyeing the cliath. "Requiem? Somethin' bothers you?"
Thump. Thump thump. There's a surprising amount of force in the attack on the punching bag, as if Flint's using all of his strength to do so—and then some, concerted effort enough that he barely notices Nieve arrive. "Kavi'n'I fought last night, kind of," Flint explains when he finally stops. "I was being stupid."
"What were you doing?" Nieve asks frankly, finding something to settle down on, gently relocating some cockroaches off the furniture and onto her lap as she does so.
The cliath continues punching the bag in between words, enough that he's focused on it, on speaking. "I felt useless, just. Being here. Kavi-rhya, doing… everything, trying to. Find her— it." The guilt is apparent in Flint's voice enough that he doesn't have to verbalise where he lays the blame. "I… stopped thinking, tried to. Leave, go out there. Kavi-rhya wouldn't let me. We kind of might. Have yelled a lot."
"Have you apologised?" Nieve asks, dreadlocks swaying slightly as she tilts her head, dark eyes fixed on the Cliath.
Flint nods once. "We. Both did, yeah. It. It was just, tension running high and." Thump. The exercise is just shy of burning off Rage, but it's definitely burning off steam. "It still. It's." Thump. Fling bites down on his lower lip, grits his teeth a little. "looking at it, I. I don't, get. I tried to go even though I, know. That, not going out alone. For now."
The Theurge nods slightly. "We all do stupid shit when we're mad. Especially on auspices. The trick is learning to know when it's hitting you."
A bit longer, and then Flint stops, stills the bag, and nods. "It wasn't even, auspice, anymore. I was just… and Kavi-rhya getting upset didn't. It. Made me upset, at myself. For causing it." There's a glance over to Nieve, and Flint silences, trying to steady his breathing.
There's another slight nod from Nieve. "So what will you do next time?" she asks quietly, her gaze steady on the Cliath.
There's only so much success that Flint has, and the breaths in are ragged with the last vestiges of being upset. "I want to, to. Help," is what he says, not directly an answer to the question that was asked. "I can't keep myself, busy enough, to. I want to help, not feel, useless."
The Adren lifts a hand to beckon the Cliath over. "Then we will find you other work to do. Does your duty to Unfettered not provide some work?"
Flint moves over to his stuff to grab the handtowel first, and wipes his forehead and neck as he moves over to crouch near where Nieve sits. "Not, not much, overall. Not while, I can't be out in the city, alone."
There is a thoughtful look from Nieve. "Who is it who gave that command? I have a suggestion," she muses quietly.
Flint looks down at one finger, and idly fidgets with a mood ring for a moment longer, before looking at Nieve. "Kavi-rhya, but with. Mouse-rhya's input, and Salem-rhya's, I think. It's. We. I promised on the promise rite, on something… important."
Nieve nods thoughtfully. "I will ask. I have an idea that may help. I cannot promise anything, because I will not give orders against any of those three, but I will ask."
Flint nods. "The promise," he says, then pauses quietly. "It's helped. A lot. I. Will not leave on my own. I will not go find Rose, nor contact her, for any reasons. I will stay in this building, and the company and supervision of Garou who are aware of what has happened." That's offered, explanation as much as reminder to himself, though apparently there's some flexibility as far as it goes, in the wording of the promise, times the cliath's been able to go from point A to point B, things that don't count as leaving, intent as much as anything.
"Hmmmn. So, would you be able to go out to do a specific errand if asked?" Nieve enquires, scratching a hand back through her dreadlocks.
Flint carefully gets to sitting crosslegged, a few cockroaches allowed to climb over one hand. "Probably? If I… if I'm calm enough. If I'm coming back, it's not. It's not leaving," Flint explains. "Going, but not leaving."
There's another nod from Nieve. "Alright. Then, I would like you to do a number of errands for me. It will involve travelling around the city. It will involve speaking to some specific people and specific spirits, most of whom will understand at least the Mother Tongue. A few hours a day—it would free up my time a fair bit," she explains.
Flint nods to Nieve. "I'm. Mouse-rhya said I'm supposed to be with someone, when I'm in the city. As long as, it's. Out there." There's a sigh. "But, if I can, I. I'd, like that," he adds, though the cliath doesn't seem so convinced on the feasibility. "It. I'm. Also, not supposed to. Not at night. Because at night."
"I will speak to Mouse," Nieve nods. "And I will ask. We will see how it goes," she murmurs quietly. "In the meantime, if you need company around the Tenement, Chit-Chat is usually available to talk. God knows he thrives on it. Do you want his number?"
Flint pulls out his phone, nods. "Sure, yes," Flint agrees. "It. Sometimes when I can go to the park, I. Do that, but sometimes I… can't." The cliath does seem to have a grip on when he might or might not be breaking the aforementioned promise.
"Alright." Nieve offers the number. "He usually stays shadowside because it takes a lot of energy for him to be over here, but he can be texted regardless," she offers with a smile. "I just hope you are good at reading textspeak."
The galliard puts the number into his phone, quickly tapping on the screen of the iPhone without ever looking at it, then carefully slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Yeah," Flint says, nodding. "That's. It'll, give me more, something to do," he agrees, then yawns, running his fingers through his hair. "And to, respond to. Interact rather than just, doing, all the time, because even if… not being alone. Sometimes it feels, alone."
"If you feel particularly industrious, you can help with the chiminage towards him," Nieve suggests. "Which largely consists of leaving out bowls of sugar solution when it is sunny, taking the time to smell and enjoy the colour of flowers, and sending a lot of texts or instant messages from a computer."
Flint grins. "I can do that," Flint agrees, and manages a bare attempt at humour. "Sunny? What's sunny, it's been cold for. Weeks, now." Which turns not quite bitter, but perhaps contemplative, or perhaps just grateful. "Will be so happy to. See the sun, again."
"It is sunny right now," Nieve tells the boy with a laugh. "Go up onto the roof or something. Enjoy the brightness, if not the warmth."
Flint brings out his phone again and glances at the time, then makes a slight 'oh' face, pulling his sweatshirt on. Carefully, the few cockroaches that have climbed onto the boy are left alone, and he moves to hug Nieve, though the tension is there in his posture. "Then I. I… might, sleep, a while," he says, a yawn following. "Thanks. I. I didn't… do anything worse than just. Punching the punching bag a lot. Even when I was, upset. I. I think, I'm… okay, now."
The hug is returned, and Nieve is pretty damned good at them, even allowing for her tiny stature. Squeeeze. "Sleep well, Flint. We'll talk more tomorrow."