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flint_garouExplanations and some tension.
8 January, 2013
The moon is in the waning Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (25% full).
Security duty in the lobby generally means that Flint's set up the monitor in the main part of the lobby, and this morning is no exception. Except even though he's got some novel in his lap,he's paying more attention to his phone, glancing vaguely over at the monitors every once in a while.
Thomas ambles up to the door in the same fashion he usually does, without a glance toward the watcher across the street. The man's clearly been out in the rain for a while, as his duster is slick with water, and there's a small but steady stream of it running off the back brim of his hat. He raps lightly at the door with his knuckles, ignoring the bell.
Flint glances at the monitor at the knock on the door, chewing on his lower lip. It takes a bit of time, and Flint doesn't seem in a particular hurry to open the door. When he does, he doesn't back away too much, just enough for the Uktena kin to come inside, a bit, and close the door, and the glance that Thomas receives is not at all friendly. "Who're you here to see?"
Nicodemus exits the stairwell, descending from some higher floor to the lobby—possibly on his way out. He notices Flint manning the monitors. "Hey, Flint. Just as an FYI? I dropped off three climbing ropes up on the roof, knotted up, tied off, and ready to throw over the sides—if there's ever a need for a roof evacuation." He probably didn't bring sodas today.
In that time, Thomas has knocked again, the same back-of-the-knuckle four-at-a-time knock. He eases past Flint in spite of the lack of room. "Kavi, but I'll take Mr. Sandman in a pinch. Damn but I'm tired. Morning, Dalton."
Flint shakes his head at Thomas, nods to Nicodemus. "'kay," the kin gets an absent-minded acknowledgement, and then Flint levels a glare at Thomas. "Sorry, I. I haven't seen Kavi-rhya today. Mean time, either. You can, apologise about, whatever happened with Riley-rhya, and tell me what the, what the hell happened, or. Or until, Kavi-rhya or one of my elders comes 'round you can, c-can…" The teen straightens his shoulders, and can't quite seem to bring himself to simply tell Thomas to leave. But Flint certainly isn't making Thomas feel welcome, and Nicodemus is mostly ignored for the moment.
Slug comes down the elevator with a half eaten eggroll in his hand. He chews on it as he steps out into the lobby and glances from left to right, looking tired. He heads right for the break room and goes about making himself a cup of coffee.
Nicodemus offers Thomas a wave, which gets aborted as Flint brings up the earlier incident between the Uktena kin and Riley. Nick lingers pretty close to the stairwell and away from Flint and Thomas: just in case there's a 'Round 2' in the works.
Thomas appears either oblivious or impervious to the glare. He moves for the couch, offering a not-quite-touching shoulder pat to Flint as he passes by. "Much obliged, I'll take the 'can'."
"No," Flint snaps at Thomas, moving fairly quickly to intercept. "No." That's got surprising volume, almost raised voice, uncommonly enough from the teen. "You will at least explain, or leave."
Nicodemus keeps back, lingering by the stairwell in case things get ugly.
Thomas regards the sudden path blocking teenager with an expression of long-suffering patience. "We had a bit've a disagreement, I cracked her in the jaw, she spit on my boots, it ended. Kavi was there, in case you're wondering."
Flint shakes his head and continues to glare up at Thomas. "Really," Flint says. "I. No, whatever happened, between you and Riley, more. Recently. Because. Riley sure the hell, blames you, and considering I. Had to carry her upstairs to her apartment yesterday. I'm inclined to. To. That something more happened. If you, can't show, basic courtesy, in our house, you. Leave."
Slug finishes making his coffee and steps out into the lobby with a cup in one hand, and a donut in the other. Slug listens in while enjoying his 'breakfast', with an expression not unlike a grazing cow.
Thomas sighs. "Boy, the only reason I'm here is 'cause I'm working with Kavi to fix your current vampire problem. If you're referring to the argument the other night, which happened on the territory've my tribe's kin, where Riley was real pleased to go around insulting the Indian victims of a massacre and all their descendants, as well as the Wendigo Athro elder's ability to teach her own cubs, I ain't entirely sure we can really talk about basic courtesy with straight faces. Now if that's gone and bit her, I warned her it wasn't a great plan to spit on Uktena and Wendigo ancestors while sitting and drinking at an Uktena bar."
Flint eases. Ever so slightly but doesn't stop blocking Thomas's path, and there's a jut of his chin as he meets the kin's gaze for a bit. "You warned and then it went and bit him? Her, rather." Flint sounds a little dubious. "I. Okay. Riley can be a dick too, I'll. Yes, then. But…" Flint doesn't seem to believe the kin had nothing to do with it, stalks over to the couch and reclaims his book, and looks at Thomas. "I haven't seen Kavi-rhya. But thank you. If. I can, I can text him, if there's. Anything. In the mean time, you undo whatever it is, or come back when one of my elders, is. Is here." Stubborn, and then Flint sits down on the couch, almost looking exhausted by the length of the speech.
Slug bites the corner of his lip and chokes back a guffaw, then promptly shoves a donut in his mouth to cover it up. Once he's finished chewing and had a chance to calm down, the Gnawer glances between those assembled and asks. "Has anyone seen Mouse? Or Nieve? I've been looking for a Theurge to ask a question."
Thomas shrugs. "I warned her, told her she'd best be going. She went with a parting shot. Ain't any undoing I can do on my end, so whatever it is, she'll have to work it out." He shifts his weight. "So's my work worth some time on the couch, or're you chasing me out've here? 'Cause to be frank, I ain't got any pressing need to come back at all, if that's the case."
Nicodemus wrinkles his brow slightly as part of Flint and Thomas' conversation sinks in. Rather than saying anything, he looks to Slug and shakes his head negatively.
Flint gestures to the couch, though there's a measure of reluctance. "Any help you can give on what 'work it out' might. Might. Might…" The galliard idly kicks the coffee table as he sits down. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. I. It's. I'm stressed, isn't. Entirely you, and. More sense with, that, both sides. It's the fucking leech, and, restless, and. Thank you, for. Helping Kavi-rhya." Flint seems glad, however, of the change of topic, pulling his knees to his chest and curling into the corner of the couch. "This morning, Nieve-rhya, but. She went out on patrol after. I. I'll see her tomorrow morning, Slug. If I can, can. Pass on a message."
Slug polishes off the donut in his hand and licks the sugar off his fingertips. He then takes out his pack of cigarettes and plucks one out of the box with his lips. "Tell her I'm looking for something old. Something ancient. As old as Pangea."
Thomas's smile is faint, and very brief, but he gives Flint a polite tip of his hat. "Not to worry, we're all rather on edge." He plods straight for the couch, and, upon reaching it, collapses neatly across every spare inch that Flint isn't taking up. There's still a very very faint, lingering smell of sewer from his boots. "Might wanna prepare for numbers." He places his hat right over his eyes. "She had three more'n we realized. Might be others around. Your vampire's been busy."
Nicodemus groans quietly and places his left hand to his forehead, as if this is the first he's heard of these additional vampires. "Great." He seems to have relaxed a little now that Flint and Thomas have resolved—more or less—their beef with one another.
Flint on the other hand just flat out grimaces, and though he'd sat down, he's on his feet in a moment, and he punches the wall (rather hard and that doesn't look like it was nice to the teen's hand), then nods, grabs his book, and stalks for the office, the door slamming shut behind him.
"Glad it wasn't a higher moon. Might have been bigger fireworks, and then I'd have to get the mop." Slug tips his head to the side and lights his cigarette with an old zippo, then flicks it shut. "And I don't like mopping. Just seems to push the blood around more than anything else. Maybe Mouse can get that sawdust stuff the janitors use to pick up vomit."
Thomas wastes no time in stretching out so that he's taking up the rest of the couch that Flint just vacated. On the other hand, he doesn't even bother lifting his hat when the Galliard storms out. The Uktena kin's entire demeanor seems to have settled around 'entirely unconcerned' as soon as he laid down.
Nicodemus grunts in what might just be quiet agreement as he tapes up a sheet of paper on the stairwell door. Speaking? That might be tempting fate.
Slug leans over to take a look at Thomas, studying his hat covered face intently. "I've been up for about a day." Slug announces. "So forgive me. But. You're that fox guy, aren't you?"
Thomas lifts his fingers a little. "Yeah," is the muffled reply. "That fox guy."
Nicodemus finishes taping the sign to the stairwell door and moves quietly to begin affixing an identical one to the elevator's door.
"Can you tell me anything about your history? Fox history." Slug sets his coffee aside and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "I've heard the wolf version of things about a million times. I've seen about all I can see from our point of view, I need to see it through a different set of eyes."
The door to the office swings open eventually, but Flint doesn't come back out. It looks like the cliath's curled into the desk chair, watching the monitor, reading his book, and has his headphones on.
"Serious?" Thomas asks, sounding faintly exasperated. "Sure, but that's a real broad category, boy."
Nicodemus takes his time taping up the sign. He manages to screw up the first strip of tape. "Damn," he curses to himself, dropping the mangled adhesive strip to the floor and pulling a fresh one from the dispenser.
"The problem with oral histories is that they're a game of telephone played over the span of a few thousand years." Slug shrugs his shoulders. "The truth is somewhere in the middle, lost in a sea of metaphors. But I don't even know where the middle is, because I have no idea where it begins and where it ends."
Thomas grunts. "Getting broader," he cautions. "You want some all encompassing universal truth, you're asking the wrong Fox."
Nicodemus manages to get the bottom half of the flyer taped, making it take longer to do the top.
"No. No truth is all encompassing." Slug puts out his cigarette on a tray on the table, then leans back in his seat and folds his hands on his stomach. "What happened before?" Slug asks, tapping his foot on the floor. "The way my people tell things, the Triat and all that came into being at around the same time Gaia made man and wolf. What I want to know is… What about before? Before there were wolves, and foxes, or—" He glances at Nicodemus. "Man. Or before that, before things even walked the Earth."
Thomas says around a yawn, "You're squashing your timeline all together. You can't have complicated living folk before you've even come up with the concept of creation. You want the Fox version of 'Gaia makes things, stuff goes haywire', just say so. You want something before that, and I'm not sure what to tell you. You ain't gonna find someone who can answer that."
Nicodemus finishes getting that pesky piece of paper taped to the elevator door. He turns around and, indicating he's been paying attention, says, "But I bet you can find any number of people willing to pass off a story they heard as if it were truth."
Slug puts his hand on his head and closes his eyes. "I can think of things that were around. I can think of things I could ask and get a definite answer… But I'm not a Theurge, and even if I was, I'm not sure I could talk to them."
Thomas offers, as a response, nothing more than a shrug. "Folk put too much stock in what's absolutely true, more'n things that have some kind of truth in 'em."
"I want to know what happened when the world ended before." Slug says in a quiet voice.
Nicodemus gets a surprised and then a thoughtful look after Slug speaks. He dwells privately on his thoughts.
"World ain't ending," Thomas replies. "Heading for a real unpleasant time, most definitely. Lots've disaster and death, guaranteed." He inhales. "Hengeyokai call it the Sixth Age. There's a Seventh."
"What happens at the end of an age?" Slug asks, cracking his fingers to peer at Thomas from behind his hand.
"Change," Nick chimes in, suddenly a philosopher. "People almost always fear change, but change is inevitable." He shakes his head slightly, then begins to make his way towards the front door.
"A new age comes along," Thomas says. "Same thing that happens at the end've a season. And before you ask, no, nobody knows how long an age lasts. It ain't measured in years, it's measured in events. —Heading out, Dalton?"
Nicodemus nods to the kitsune. "Yeah. I'm feeling like making some change instead of fearing it. No clue how, or what, or where, or why… But I'm restless and need to get moving." To Slug he offers a nod, then points to the two piece of paper he just put up. "There's climbing ropes on the roof now, in the event there's ever a need for a rooftop getaway that doesn't involve an 'Aaaaah-splat' style approach."
"Sounds entertaining," Thomas says, then pulls his hat even further down his face. "Lemme know if you'd like a partner. Oh, and if you see Feathers, tell're I've got the thing she wanted, and see if she wants to do a ceremony of sorts. Otherwise I'll just take care've it."
"It'd be more fun if there were base jumping chutes. That way we get to jump out of a flaming building that the Spirals bombed, and drink Mountain Dew." Slug claps his hands on his knees and stands up, taking his coffee with him. "Thanks. I'm sure Mouse will appreciate having another exit strategy."
"I think I'm going solo on today's mischief," Nick says, excusing himself from having company as he heads for the door. "See you two later." He makes a wave towards Flint, but it's via a security camera as he heads out—where Flint'd be more likely to actually notice it.
8 January, 2013
The moon is in the waning Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (25% full).
Security duty in the lobby generally means that Flint's set up the monitor in the main part of the lobby, and this morning is no exception. Except even though he's got some novel in his lap,he's paying more attention to his phone, glancing vaguely over at the monitors every once in a while.
Thomas ambles up to the door in the same fashion he usually does, without a glance toward the watcher across the street. The man's clearly been out in the rain for a while, as his duster is slick with water, and there's a small but steady stream of it running off the back brim of his hat. He raps lightly at the door with his knuckles, ignoring the bell.
Flint glances at the monitor at the knock on the door, chewing on his lower lip. It takes a bit of time, and Flint doesn't seem in a particular hurry to open the door. When he does, he doesn't back away too much, just enough for the Uktena kin to come inside, a bit, and close the door, and the glance that Thomas receives is not at all friendly. "Who're you here to see?"
Nicodemus exits the stairwell, descending from some higher floor to the lobby—possibly on his way out. He notices Flint manning the monitors. "Hey, Flint. Just as an FYI? I dropped off three climbing ropes up on the roof, knotted up, tied off, and ready to throw over the sides—if there's ever a need for a roof evacuation." He probably didn't bring sodas today.
In that time, Thomas has knocked again, the same back-of-the-knuckle four-at-a-time knock. He eases past Flint in spite of the lack of room. "Kavi, but I'll take Mr. Sandman in a pinch. Damn but I'm tired. Morning, Dalton."
Flint shakes his head at Thomas, nods to Nicodemus. "'kay," the kin gets an absent-minded acknowledgement, and then Flint levels a glare at Thomas. "Sorry, I. I haven't seen Kavi-rhya today. Mean time, either. You can, apologise about, whatever happened with Riley-rhya, and tell me what the, what the hell happened, or. Or until, Kavi-rhya or one of my elders comes 'round you can, c-can…" The teen straightens his shoulders, and can't quite seem to bring himself to simply tell Thomas to leave. But Flint certainly isn't making Thomas feel welcome, and Nicodemus is mostly ignored for the moment.
Slug comes down the elevator with a half eaten eggroll in his hand. He chews on it as he steps out into the lobby and glances from left to right, looking tired. He heads right for the break room and goes about making himself a cup of coffee.
Nicodemus offers Thomas a wave, which gets aborted as Flint brings up the earlier incident between the Uktena kin and Riley. Nick lingers pretty close to the stairwell and away from Flint and Thomas: just in case there's a 'Round 2' in the works.
Thomas appears either oblivious or impervious to the glare. He moves for the couch, offering a not-quite-touching shoulder pat to Flint as he passes by. "Much obliged, I'll take the 'can'."
"No," Flint snaps at Thomas, moving fairly quickly to intercept. "No." That's got surprising volume, almost raised voice, uncommonly enough from the teen. "You will at least explain, or leave."
Nicodemus keeps back, lingering by the stairwell in case things get ugly.
Thomas regards the sudden path blocking teenager with an expression of long-suffering patience. "We had a bit've a disagreement, I cracked her in the jaw, she spit on my boots, it ended. Kavi was there, in case you're wondering."
Flint shakes his head and continues to glare up at Thomas. "Really," Flint says. "I. No, whatever happened, between you and Riley, more. Recently. Because. Riley sure the hell, blames you, and considering I. Had to carry her upstairs to her apartment yesterday. I'm inclined to. To. That something more happened. If you, can't show, basic courtesy, in our house, you. Leave."
Slug finishes making his coffee and steps out into the lobby with a cup in one hand, and a donut in the other. Slug listens in while enjoying his 'breakfast', with an expression not unlike a grazing cow.
Thomas sighs. "Boy, the only reason I'm here is 'cause I'm working with Kavi to fix your current vampire problem. If you're referring to the argument the other night, which happened on the territory've my tribe's kin, where Riley was real pleased to go around insulting the Indian victims of a massacre and all their descendants, as well as the Wendigo Athro elder's ability to teach her own cubs, I ain't entirely sure we can really talk about basic courtesy with straight faces. Now if that's gone and bit her, I warned her it wasn't a great plan to spit on Uktena and Wendigo ancestors while sitting and drinking at an Uktena bar."
Flint eases. Ever so slightly but doesn't stop blocking Thomas's path, and there's a jut of his chin as he meets the kin's gaze for a bit. "You warned and then it went and bit him? Her, rather." Flint sounds a little dubious. "I. Okay. Riley can be a dick too, I'll. Yes, then. But…" Flint doesn't seem to believe the kin had nothing to do with it, stalks over to the couch and reclaims his book, and looks at Thomas. "I haven't seen Kavi-rhya. But thank you. If. I can, I can text him, if there's. Anything. In the mean time, you undo whatever it is, or come back when one of my elders, is. Is here." Stubborn, and then Flint sits down on the couch, almost looking exhausted by the length of the speech.
Slug bites the corner of his lip and chokes back a guffaw, then promptly shoves a donut in his mouth to cover it up. Once he's finished chewing and had a chance to calm down, the Gnawer glances between those assembled and asks. "Has anyone seen Mouse? Or Nieve? I've been looking for a Theurge to ask a question."
Thomas shrugs. "I warned her, told her she'd best be going. She went with a parting shot. Ain't any undoing I can do on my end, so whatever it is, she'll have to work it out." He shifts his weight. "So's my work worth some time on the couch, or're you chasing me out've here? 'Cause to be frank, I ain't got any pressing need to come back at all, if that's the case."
Nicodemus wrinkles his brow slightly as part of Flint and Thomas' conversation sinks in. Rather than saying anything, he looks to Slug and shakes his head negatively.
Flint gestures to the couch, though there's a measure of reluctance. "Any help you can give on what 'work it out' might. Might. Might…" The galliard idly kicks the coffee table as he sits down. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. I. It's. I'm stressed, isn't. Entirely you, and. More sense with, that, both sides. It's the fucking leech, and, restless, and. Thank you, for. Helping Kavi-rhya." Flint seems glad, however, of the change of topic, pulling his knees to his chest and curling into the corner of the couch. "This morning, Nieve-rhya, but. She went out on patrol after. I. I'll see her tomorrow morning, Slug. If I can, can. Pass on a message."
Slug polishes off the donut in his hand and licks the sugar off his fingertips. He then takes out his pack of cigarettes and plucks one out of the box with his lips. "Tell her I'm looking for something old. Something ancient. As old as Pangea."
Thomas's smile is faint, and very brief, but he gives Flint a polite tip of his hat. "Not to worry, we're all rather on edge." He plods straight for the couch, and, upon reaching it, collapses neatly across every spare inch that Flint isn't taking up. There's still a very very faint, lingering smell of sewer from his boots. "Might wanna prepare for numbers." He places his hat right over his eyes. "She had three more'n we realized. Might be others around. Your vampire's been busy."
Nicodemus groans quietly and places his left hand to his forehead, as if this is the first he's heard of these additional vampires. "Great." He seems to have relaxed a little now that Flint and Thomas have resolved—more or less—their beef with one another.
Flint on the other hand just flat out grimaces, and though he'd sat down, he's on his feet in a moment, and he punches the wall (rather hard and that doesn't look like it was nice to the teen's hand), then nods, grabs his book, and stalks for the office, the door slamming shut behind him.
"Glad it wasn't a higher moon. Might have been bigger fireworks, and then I'd have to get the mop." Slug tips his head to the side and lights his cigarette with an old zippo, then flicks it shut. "And I don't like mopping. Just seems to push the blood around more than anything else. Maybe Mouse can get that sawdust stuff the janitors use to pick up vomit."
Thomas wastes no time in stretching out so that he's taking up the rest of the couch that Flint just vacated. On the other hand, he doesn't even bother lifting his hat when the Galliard storms out. The Uktena kin's entire demeanor seems to have settled around 'entirely unconcerned' as soon as he laid down.
Nicodemus grunts in what might just be quiet agreement as he tapes up a sheet of paper on the stairwell door. Speaking? That might be tempting fate.
Slug leans over to take a look at Thomas, studying his hat covered face intently. "I've been up for about a day." Slug announces. "So forgive me. But. You're that fox guy, aren't you?"
Thomas lifts his fingers a little. "Yeah," is the muffled reply. "That fox guy."
Nicodemus finishes taping the sign to the stairwell door and moves quietly to begin affixing an identical one to the elevator's door.
"Can you tell me anything about your history? Fox history." Slug sets his coffee aside and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "I've heard the wolf version of things about a million times. I've seen about all I can see from our point of view, I need to see it through a different set of eyes."
The door to the office swings open eventually, but Flint doesn't come back out. It looks like the cliath's curled into the desk chair, watching the monitor, reading his book, and has his headphones on.
"Serious?" Thomas asks, sounding faintly exasperated. "Sure, but that's a real broad category, boy."
Nicodemus takes his time taping up the sign. He manages to screw up the first strip of tape. "Damn," he curses to himself, dropping the mangled adhesive strip to the floor and pulling a fresh one from the dispenser.
"The problem with oral histories is that they're a game of telephone played over the span of a few thousand years." Slug shrugs his shoulders. "The truth is somewhere in the middle, lost in a sea of metaphors. But I don't even know where the middle is, because I have no idea where it begins and where it ends."
Thomas grunts. "Getting broader," he cautions. "You want some all encompassing universal truth, you're asking the wrong Fox."
Nicodemus manages to get the bottom half of the flyer taped, making it take longer to do the top.
"No. No truth is all encompassing." Slug puts out his cigarette on a tray on the table, then leans back in his seat and folds his hands on his stomach. "What happened before?" Slug asks, tapping his foot on the floor. "The way my people tell things, the Triat and all that came into being at around the same time Gaia made man and wolf. What I want to know is… What about before? Before there were wolves, and foxes, or—" He glances at Nicodemus. "Man. Or before that, before things even walked the Earth."
Thomas says around a yawn, "You're squashing your timeline all together. You can't have complicated living folk before you've even come up with the concept of creation. You want the Fox version of 'Gaia makes things, stuff goes haywire', just say so. You want something before that, and I'm not sure what to tell you. You ain't gonna find someone who can answer that."
Nicodemus finishes getting that pesky piece of paper taped to the elevator door. He turns around and, indicating he's been paying attention, says, "But I bet you can find any number of people willing to pass off a story they heard as if it were truth."
Slug puts his hand on his head and closes his eyes. "I can think of things that were around. I can think of things I could ask and get a definite answer… But I'm not a Theurge, and even if I was, I'm not sure I could talk to them."
Thomas offers, as a response, nothing more than a shrug. "Folk put too much stock in what's absolutely true, more'n things that have some kind of truth in 'em."
"I want to know what happened when the world ended before." Slug says in a quiet voice.
Nicodemus gets a surprised and then a thoughtful look after Slug speaks. He dwells privately on his thoughts.
"World ain't ending," Thomas replies. "Heading for a real unpleasant time, most definitely. Lots've disaster and death, guaranteed." He inhales. "Hengeyokai call it the Sixth Age. There's a Seventh."
"What happens at the end of an age?" Slug asks, cracking his fingers to peer at Thomas from behind his hand.
"Change," Nick chimes in, suddenly a philosopher. "People almost always fear change, but change is inevitable." He shakes his head slightly, then begins to make his way towards the front door.
"A new age comes along," Thomas says. "Same thing that happens at the end've a season. And before you ask, no, nobody knows how long an age lasts. It ain't measured in years, it's measured in events. —Heading out, Dalton?"
Nicodemus nods to the kitsune. "Yeah. I'm feeling like making some change instead of fearing it. No clue how, or what, or where, or why… But I'm restless and need to get moving." To Slug he offers a nod, then points to the two piece of paper he just put up. "There's climbing ropes on the roof now, in the event there's ever a need for a rooftop getaway that doesn't involve an 'Aaaaah-splat' style approach."
"Sounds entertaining," Thomas says, then pulls his hat even further down his face. "Lemme know if you'd like a partner. Oh, and if you see Feathers, tell're I've got the thing she wanted, and see if she wants to do a ceremony of sorts. Otherwise I'll just take care've it."
"It'd be more fun if there were base jumping chutes. That way we get to jump out of a flaming building that the Spirals bombed, and drink Mountain Dew." Slug claps his hands on his knees and stands up, taking his coffee with him. "Thanks. I'm sure Mouse will appreciate having another exit strategy."
"I think I'm going solo on today's mischief," Nick says, excusing himself from having company as he heads for the door. "See you two later." He makes a wave towards Flint, but it's via a security camera as he heads out—where Flint'd be more likely to actually notice it.