Just. Shut. Up.
Wednesday, 23 January 2013 12:16![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flint_garouSecurity duty during Gibbous moon turns eventful. (In which Riley is crass. And Flint does not like it.)
23 January, 2013
The moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (78% full).
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, especially if you're the sort who likes rain. Reed, for example, likes rain. But he's currently cooped up inside the tenement building. Alone for the moment, unless you count Flint who's sequestered himself in the office. Which the boycub isn't counting. The moon at this size, he hasn't attempted to be social with the cliath. He has, however, found entertainment of sorts by doing pull ups by grasping the top lip of the laundry room door frame.
There's a buzz at the front door. A simple bzzt. The offender is a blonde haired woman standing out on the step. Those who know her would recognize it as Emma Mahler. Those who don't, mind wonder if a salesperson just showed up at the wrong door.
Clearly, whomever is on duty recognises the Get, because no sooner has she pressed the buzzer, then the buzzer makes the characteristic sound to let her know that it's open and she should come in.
Reed looks at the office when the door buzzes the first time, and drops is feet to the floor following the second buzz. He wanders out from the laundry room doorway and into the office proper, giving the door and then the office each another look. Curious.
The door opens and Emma lets herself in and starts shrugging off her outer layer jacket. When she spots Reed, she looks more than a bit surprised at his being there, then glances toward the office. "Who do I thank for letting me in?"
There's sound from inside the office, and apparently, Flint's decided to not hole up quite so much. The door opens, and the cliath's leaned against the door, wrapped in his sweatshirt and looking as decidedly grumpy and out of sorts, earphones over his shoulder. Someone isn't taking galliard moon terribly well, or terribly socially, given the almost perpetual scowl on his face. "Hi, Emma-rhya."
The overall humidity is making the cold feel even more oppressive than its low numerical value—but unlike several of the passers by who are bundled up and huddling under umbrellas, Riley's in her same old attire—sun dress, unzipped coat. Casually walking down Bridge Street, she comes up on the Tenement Building just in time to see the door swing its way shut. Giving a little click of her tongue, she shrugs and approaches. Standing outside the door for a cursory moment to flash her teeth at the camera, the lock pops open and the ragabash pulls the door back open and steps damply into the lobby, pausing at the entryway to shake her head dry. Only when she's spikey-haired and satisfied does she glance up and give a generalized greeting. "Afternoon, folks."
Reed points at Flint for explanation to Emma's question. Riley earns herself a brief look, a quasi-frown, but no return salutation. His attention turns from fostern to adren again, with arms that first cross over his chest then fall back to his sides. He settles on tucking his hands into his back pockets. "Moxie's with Sue right now, doing auspice stuff."
Emma nods toward Flint and then puts her focus back on Reed. "Surprised to see you here." She doesn't get much further than that before the door opens and in comes another inhabitant. A faint nod is given to the woman as the Get moves to give her some space to enter more properly. "Was actually just stopping in to see if Salem or Kevin were around actually. Didn't think any of my cubs would be here."
Flint glances to Riley, and though he doesn't close the door again, Flint does retreat into the office, sitting knees-to-chest on the office chair. "Haven't seen Kevin-rhya in a few days, Salem-rhya in a. In a. In a… a while," he offers to Emma.
Removing her coat in order to wring some of the excess moisture from the fabric, Riley remains firmly in the entryway, casting a glance from Reed to Flint and then back to Emma. She gives her coat a firm twist, dripping water onto the entryway's mat, following up Flint's remarks with a nod, "Hard to catch those two sometimes. They're out and about doing their own thing most of the time. Could I take a message for ya?"
Reed opens his mouth to explain his presence to Emma, but closes it again when Riley speaks up. He glances at the ragabash and frowns just a little more than the first time. But brief as the look is, his gaze returns to the elder ahroun. "Moxie's supposed to learn about past judgements from other tribes. I came with to learn too. And because we stay together."
Emma is mostly watching the Get cub, but the explanations from Flint and Riley brings her attention to them. "Yeah, I know. But never hurts to try." She turns back to study the woman then, offering a little bob of her head, "Emma Mahler. Heart of Fire Forges the Stone Spirit. Adren ahroun of the Get."
Flint just nods, using the desk to turn the chair so that he's only partially watching the goings-on in the lobby. Partially, the teen's attention goes to a small, seven inch tablet that he moves into his lap and starts tapping at.
Turning her smile into a grin when Emma begins to introduce herself, Riley gives a firm nod of her head. "Oh, right. I've heard of you. Dag's a big fan of yours. Mentioned that you're her type of Get." The tall, slender woman takes Emma's hand in hers and shakes it. "Riley Larson, Stares-Down-Death-to-Evacuate-the-Fallen … or just Evac, if you like. Fostern Ragabash of the Glass Walkers." Turning her head from Emma to Reed, Riley's expression sours. Easing politely free of the handshake with Emma, she turns to fully regard the cub. Reed's frowns up until this point have been ignored. This one, finally, is not. "…Look. There anythin' I can help ya with, Reed? Somethin' you'd like to say, or are ya just gonna keep on lookin' at me like I pissed in your Wheaties?"
"No," Reed answers with a shake of his head. He glances toward Riley, more brief than before, then takes stock of the flooring. He offers the fostern another shake of his head and looks her way through the corner of his eye.
Emma chuckles, "Dagny huh? I'll have to tease her about that." At the question directed toward her cub, she studies the interaction between the two. "Am I missing something here?" Reed gets the last of her questions though, "How's the moon hitting you?"
Flint chews his lower lip and looks up from the kindle, scooting the chair a little more towards the office door. Most of Flint's attention, however, ends up on Riley.
"Right, then." Riley says, brows lifted. She turns her focus right back to Emma, giving a shake of her head, "Apparently not. But if you'd be so kind as to tease Dagny, you'd be my type of Get, too." She gives a slightly more tempered smile. "So, offer stands. Anything I can help ya with?"
Reed shakes his head again to answer the first question from Emma, then second gets a shrug. "Hard," he says simply enough. In the same tone of someone accustomed to some form of difficulty or another.
Emma folds her arms across her chest as she watches the interaction between Reed and Riley. "Huh. So, here's something to ask you considering our current gathering, Reed. You're a Get cub, so that makes you my territory, and we're guests at the Walker's house, which is their territory. So who do you think wins the authority here. Granted, more a half moon question, but I'm curious to see your answer. Since ya keep blowing off Riley's question and seem to be skirting some sort of underlying tension."
The goings on in the lobby are perhaps more interesting than what he's reading on the tablet, and Flint gets up, putting the kindle down on the desk and coming back into the lobby. His arms wrap around himself and he fidgets with his sweatshirt, and eventually looks at Reed, since Reed seems to be the one expected to speak.
The words from Emma get something of a quirk of Riley's lips, and she turns to face Reed, head canted to one side and similarly awaiting his reply to this pop-quiz.
Reed looks from Riley to Emma, head lifting and frown once again represented when he's put on the spot. The expression isn't quite so short lasting this time, either. "Everyone's an authority," he answers, "except me. Since Riley's the higher ranking Walker, she's in charge of what happens here. Unless it involves me." There's a slight lilt of his tone, making it almost a question.
Emma tips her head side to side in a gesture of 'not bad'. "Well, here's how I play it out. Goes along nicely with the creeds I've wanted you to work on too." She moves to sit down, pulling her jacket with her onto her lap. "I'm here as a guest, that means I come with the intent to abide their rules and let them handle their business as they see fit. Right now, you being here, is their business. That means, they've got the authority to handle you as they see fit. In turn, they, and I assume Riley has the sense about her to think this way, know that you're a cub of another tribe, and likely won't do anything to you that would earn them issues with the Get." A little chuckle, "In short. You piss them off and they knock a few teeth out, they aren't out of line. Unless they are out of line, in which case I'd come and return the favor. Requires a bit of trust on the part of the tribes involved. So. What's up with the frowny face at Riley then?"
"Moon's big," Flint remarks, barely audible, as if it might explain the frown and such from the cub. It certainly at least explains the overall sullen manner from the cliath.
Nodding along with Emma's explanation, Riley doesn't bother to speak. Instead, she just goes ahead and gives her coat another wring, the gaps in conversation filled with the light patter of water hitting the entry-mat. She has no intention of interrupting.
The galliard becomes the next target of that frown, Reed's expression darkening over the interjection. But his words aren't directed at Flint, nor even at Emma. Instead they're aimed at the ragabash, direct and toned as if that were precisely the reason behind the furrowed look that follows. "Flint said you got changed into a girl and used to be a guy."
Immediately, Riley stops wringing out her coat. Her shoulders square up and she tugs the coat back over her, one sleeve at a time, frowning but otherwise looking relatively unaffected by the cub's words. Hands creeping their way up into her coat pockets, they find a place to rest there. The ragabash briefly tongues her incisors then gives a tight nod of her head. "…That'd be the truth of things. And if that's the source of your sour face, you're showin' disrespect for a battlescar that was hard-won. Ain't especially Get of you."
Flint leans against the doorway of the office, retreating a half-step, but still watching the conversation.
Admittedly, that bit of information does in fact catch Emma off guard; however, the difference between an angry teen boycub and an Adren is remarkably evident here as the elder Ahroun turns to regard the woman. At Riley's words, Emma can't help but be caught wearing one of her typical smirks, and she looks over to Reed. "Well, it might be some kind of Get, but… not the kind I'm rearing." She draws in a breath and nods to Reed. "So, the scowly look just because you're confused about the how of that happening, or it set you up with some kind of pre-existing judgement against her?"
Reed shakes his head, defiance finding a foothold. "Wasn't disrespecting, just trying to see it. And… It's weird. That a …that a dragon could do that. Or like… that the Wyld did that. Just. Like. Trying to figure it out."
Her hand can be perceived digging more deeply into the pocket of her coat, her arm burying itself up past her wrist as she fishes about. Finally, she comes upon what she was looking for and yanks loose a worn leather wallet. She opens it, flips through a handful of cards, and pries loose the one she was looking for. It's flicked in Reed's direction with considerable accuracy, frisby-esque. "…Then don't picture it." The plastic card lands near to Reed's feet. Anyone would be able to discern that it's a driver's license of some kind. Reed, being closer, will be able to identify it as a learner's permit, displaying a bored-looking young man with features that scarcely resemble Riley's. If one were to squint, one could comment on a 'family resemblance' of some kind in the eyes and nose, but the difference is night and day. "That's the most current one I have. If you're curious, have Flint dig up a picture of me from last January. I'm sure we still have tape backups of the security cams."
Flint glances at Riley. "Would be easier to just, draw it," Flint points out. "Backups are buried somewhere."
Emma gives Reed a nod and a grunt. "Welcome to the war kid. This is why it's so important to learn from your elders and take their stories and lessons and advice to heart." She stands up then as the Walkers enlighten the younger Ahroun, looking toward the kitchen with a faint sort of, 'Can I help myself?' nod toward it.
Reed stoops to pick up the card. Doubt fits into the equation as he looks from the picture on the ID to the ragabash in question. Several times. "You sure this isn't some kind of strange joke or whatever? I know how ragabash do that and like… I just don't see you as a guy. Not this guy." The driver's permit is held up then offered to the Fostern.
Riley offers Emma a brief nod of her head as she glances toward the kitchen, the ragabash's thumbs hooking at her pockets while the rest of her hands hang loose of them. Reed's disbelief is met with a brief bark of laughter, and she advances to take the card back from him, tucking it casually back into her coat. "…If this is a joke, I'm impatiently waiting for the punchline, kid. Guess short of footage, I can't prove it." She shrugs, "Unless you want me to go into vivid detail of how inaccurate a stream of piss can be, how it sucks when the stream splits for no reason, or how sometimes when you're pissin' sitting down and the toilet's too shallow, ya teabag yerself in the toilet water." She looks thoughtful, "Can't say I miss gettin' erections for no reason in public places, but I do miss the peeing standing up. Also, wankin' it was way more convenient than having to sorta contort to…" She trails off, shaking her head, "Y'know, I'll leave that out. Fact is, it happened, it was permanent, and bein' permanent, it ain't gonna un-happen."
Flint looks at Riley, with this sort of please stop look, as the ragabash talks, then the cliath retreats all the way into the office as more details happen. And shuts the door.
In the kitchen, there is a short, mostly-caught chuckle at the explanation unfolding. Emma comes out with a can of soda in hand and the tab halfway through being pulled. She's grinning, and as she catches the tail end of Flint's retreat, that laugh comes free. "Nicely done. And the Get think they can only cower cubs with fists." To Reed she turns next, "I'm sure this shit wasn't easy for Riley here, but she seems to have a pretty solid grip on it now. Can learn a lot from that." A sip is taken, "Got some running to do, but I'll come back later and see who's around. Riley. Pleasure meeting you. Seriously. Lemme know if either of your guests cause ya too much hassle."
"What, dude." Reed looks from Riley to the retreating Flint to Emma. "Stop, jeez," he says while looking back at Riley. As if Emma doesn't need to know the inner workings of guy-dom. "Seriously. Fine. You used to be a guy. Whatever. That's just… Shut up."
Chuckling under her breath at Reed's reaction, Riley simply shrugs her shoulders, murmuring, "Your fault, ye of little faith." Emma's words are met with a quirk of Riley's lips, and she bobs her head, "Well he's a Cliath," Riley's expression becomes slightly distasteful, "But I take your meaning. Pleasure meetin' ya, Emma-rhya." She holds the door open for the Adren, and closes and secures it after her.
"Yeah, but going on like that in front of Emma?" Regardless of Emma's reaction, seems Reed would rather the adren not been present for that colorful explanation. "For real. That's like… just wrong."
The office door remains shut, and there's the slightly tinny sound of music being played louder than headphones through it.
Riley is clearly enjoying the reaction—the flash of teeth in her grin is all the proof one needs to see that she is, indeed, a ragabash. "What, Emma some sort of sensitive snowflake?" She claps a hand to her chest, swooning, "A blushing maiden, unfit to hear the reasons why your aim is so atrocious!" She gives a soft snort of laughter, and shrugs her shoulders. "Imagine she'll survive." She turns a glance toward the closed door of the security room, arching a brow, "It's Blushy McPuberty over there that I'm more concerned about."
Reed looks over at the office door, his own brows pushing upward toward his hairline. "What's his problem?"
Riley's answer is short, and clipped. "A lot. But relevant to the current situation? He somehow dodged puberty or something. I'd call him asexual, 'cept even the asexuals I've met don't revile sex, they're just indifferent. You'd think a kid with so many ancestral voices kickin' around in his head would have plenty of past-life material to work with when it comes to talkin' about anything sexually charged."
"Maybe he just needs to watch porn," Reed says as he looks at Riley. "Or go to a strip club. Something. Maybe he's into guys?"
"Couldn't hurt matters," Riley laughs. "Anyhow, I'm gonna take a shower. Tease Flint relentlessly about this for me." With that, she wanders over to the stairs, and heads on up.
The music leaking into the lobby quiets, but it's some minutes after Riley's left the lobby that Flint opens the office door, cigarette and pack of cigarettes in one hand, but not lit yet. The cliath has actually shed the sweatshirt, and he looks at Reed, before heading for the laundry room.
Reed shakes his head at Riley's exit, then looks at Flint when the cliath reappears. Whatever orders he'd been given aren't followed, since Reed goes toward the stairs rather than speak.
23 January, 2013
The moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (78% full).
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, especially if you're the sort who likes rain. Reed, for example, likes rain. But he's currently cooped up inside the tenement building. Alone for the moment, unless you count Flint who's sequestered himself in the office. Which the boycub isn't counting. The moon at this size, he hasn't attempted to be social with the cliath. He has, however, found entertainment of sorts by doing pull ups by grasping the top lip of the laundry room door frame.
There's a buzz at the front door. A simple bzzt. The offender is a blonde haired woman standing out on the step. Those who know her would recognize it as Emma Mahler. Those who don't, mind wonder if a salesperson just showed up at the wrong door.
Clearly, whomever is on duty recognises the Get, because no sooner has she pressed the buzzer, then the buzzer makes the characteristic sound to let her know that it's open and she should come in.
Reed looks at the office when the door buzzes the first time, and drops is feet to the floor following the second buzz. He wanders out from the laundry room doorway and into the office proper, giving the door and then the office each another look. Curious.
The door opens and Emma lets herself in and starts shrugging off her outer layer jacket. When she spots Reed, she looks more than a bit surprised at his being there, then glances toward the office. "Who do I thank for letting me in?"
There's sound from inside the office, and apparently, Flint's decided to not hole up quite so much. The door opens, and the cliath's leaned against the door, wrapped in his sweatshirt and looking as decidedly grumpy and out of sorts, earphones over his shoulder. Someone isn't taking galliard moon terribly well, or terribly socially, given the almost perpetual scowl on his face. "Hi, Emma-rhya."
The overall humidity is making the cold feel even more oppressive than its low numerical value—but unlike several of the passers by who are bundled up and huddling under umbrellas, Riley's in her same old attire—sun dress, unzipped coat. Casually walking down Bridge Street, she comes up on the Tenement Building just in time to see the door swing its way shut. Giving a little click of her tongue, she shrugs and approaches. Standing outside the door for a cursory moment to flash her teeth at the camera, the lock pops open and the ragabash pulls the door back open and steps damply into the lobby, pausing at the entryway to shake her head dry. Only when she's spikey-haired and satisfied does she glance up and give a generalized greeting. "Afternoon, folks."
Reed points at Flint for explanation to Emma's question. Riley earns herself a brief look, a quasi-frown, but no return salutation. His attention turns from fostern to adren again, with arms that first cross over his chest then fall back to his sides. He settles on tucking his hands into his back pockets. "Moxie's with Sue right now, doing auspice stuff."
Emma nods toward Flint and then puts her focus back on Reed. "Surprised to see you here." She doesn't get much further than that before the door opens and in comes another inhabitant. A faint nod is given to the woman as the Get moves to give her some space to enter more properly. "Was actually just stopping in to see if Salem or Kevin were around actually. Didn't think any of my cubs would be here."
Flint glances to Riley, and though he doesn't close the door again, Flint does retreat into the office, sitting knees-to-chest on the office chair. "Haven't seen Kevin-rhya in a few days, Salem-rhya in a. In a. In a… a while," he offers to Emma.
Removing her coat in order to wring some of the excess moisture from the fabric, Riley remains firmly in the entryway, casting a glance from Reed to Flint and then back to Emma. She gives her coat a firm twist, dripping water onto the entryway's mat, following up Flint's remarks with a nod, "Hard to catch those two sometimes. They're out and about doing their own thing most of the time. Could I take a message for ya?"
Reed opens his mouth to explain his presence to Emma, but closes it again when Riley speaks up. He glances at the ragabash and frowns just a little more than the first time. But brief as the look is, his gaze returns to the elder ahroun. "Moxie's supposed to learn about past judgements from other tribes. I came with to learn too. And because we stay together."
Emma is mostly watching the Get cub, but the explanations from Flint and Riley brings her attention to them. "Yeah, I know. But never hurts to try." She turns back to study the woman then, offering a little bob of her head, "Emma Mahler. Heart of Fire Forges the Stone Spirit. Adren ahroun of the Get."
Flint just nods, using the desk to turn the chair so that he's only partially watching the goings-on in the lobby. Partially, the teen's attention goes to a small, seven inch tablet that he moves into his lap and starts tapping at.
Turning her smile into a grin when Emma begins to introduce herself, Riley gives a firm nod of her head. "Oh, right. I've heard of you. Dag's a big fan of yours. Mentioned that you're her type of Get." The tall, slender woman takes Emma's hand in hers and shakes it. "Riley Larson, Stares-Down-Death-to-Evacuate-the-Fallen … or just Evac, if you like. Fostern Ragabash of the Glass Walkers." Turning her head from Emma to Reed, Riley's expression sours. Easing politely free of the handshake with Emma, she turns to fully regard the cub. Reed's frowns up until this point have been ignored. This one, finally, is not. "…Look. There anythin' I can help ya with, Reed? Somethin' you'd like to say, or are ya just gonna keep on lookin' at me like I pissed in your Wheaties?"
"No," Reed answers with a shake of his head. He glances toward Riley, more brief than before, then takes stock of the flooring. He offers the fostern another shake of his head and looks her way through the corner of his eye.
Emma chuckles, "Dagny huh? I'll have to tease her about that." At the question directed toward her cub, she studies the interaction between the two. "Am I missing something here?" Reed gets the last of her questions though, "How's the moon hitting you?"
Flint chews his lower lip and looks up from the kindle, scooting the chair a little more towards the office door. Most of Flint's attention, however, ends up on Riley.
"Right, then." Riley says, brows lifted. She turns her focus right back to Emma, giving a shake of her head, "Apparently not. But if you'd be so kind as to tease Dagny, you'd be my type of Get, too." She gives a slightly more tempered smile. "So, offer stands. Anything I can help ya with?"
Reed shakes his head again to answer the first question from Emma, then second gets a shrug. "Hard," he says simply enough. In the same tone of someone accustomed to some form of difficulty or another.
Emma folds her arms across her chest as she watches the interaction between Reed and Riley. "Huh. So, here's something to ask you considering our current gathering, Reed. You're a Get cub, so that makes you my territory, and we're guests at the Walker's house, which is their territory. So who do you think wins the authority here. Granted, more a half moon question, but I'm curious to see your answer. Since ya keep blowing off Riley's question and seem to be skirting some sort of underlying tension."
The goings on in the lobby are perhaps more interesting than what he's reading on the tablet, and Flint gets up, putting the kindle down on the desk and coming back into the lobby. His arms wrap around himself and he fidgets with his sweatshirt, and eventually looks at Reed, since Reed seems to be the one expected to speak.
The words from Emma get something of a quirk of Riley's lips, and she turns to face Reed, head canted to one side and similarly awaiting his reply to this pop-quiz.
Reed looks from Riley to Emma, head lifting and frown once again represented when he's put on the spot. The expression isn't quite so short lasting this time, either. "Everyone's an authority," he answers, "except me. Since Riley's the higher ranking Walker, she's in charge of what happens here. Unless it involves me." There's a slight lilt of his tone, making it almost a question.
Emma tips her head side to side in a gesture of 'not bad'. "Well, here's how I play it out. Goes along nicely with the creeds I've wanted you to work on too." She moves to sit down, pulling her jacket with her onto her lap. "I'm here as a guest, that means I come with the intent to abide their rules and let them handle their business as they see fit. Right now, you being here, is their business. That means, they've got the authority to handle you as they see fit. In turn, they, and I assume Riley has the sense about her to think this way, know that you're a cub of another tribe, and likely won't do anything to you that would earn them issues with the Get." A little chuckle, "In short. You piss them off and they knock a few teeth out, they aren't out of line. Unless they are out of line, in which case I'd come and return the favor. Requires a bit of trust on the part of the tribes involved. So. What's up with the frowny face at Riley then?"
"Moon's big," Flint remarks, barely audible, as if it might explain the frown and such from the cub. It certainly at least explains the overall sullen manner from the cliath.
Nodding along with Emma's explanation, Riley doesn't bother to speak. Instead, she just goes ahead and gives her coat another wring, the gaps in conversation filled with the light patter of water hitting the entry-mat. She has no intention of interrupting.
The galliard becomes the next target of that frown, Reed's expression darkening over the interjection. But his words aren't directed at Flint, nor even at Emma. Instead they're aimed at the ragabash, direct and toned as if that were precisely the reason behind the furrowed look that follows. "Flint said you got changed into a girl and used to be a guy."
Immediately, Riley stops wringing out her coat. Her shoulders square up and she tugs the coat back over her, one sleeve at a time, frowning but otherwise looking relatively unaffected by the cub's words. Hands creeping their way up into her coat pockets, they find a place to rest there. The ragabash briefly tongues her incisors then gives a tight nod of her head. "…That'd be the truth of things. And if that's the source of your sour face, you're showin' disrespect for a battlescar that was hard-won. Ain't especially Get of you."
Flint leans against the doorway of the office, retreating a half-step, but still watching the conversation.
Admittedly, that bit of information does in fact catch Emma off guard; however, the difference between an angry teen boycub and an Adren is remarkably evident here as the elder Ahroun turns to regard the woman. At Riley's words, Emma can't help but be caught wearing one of her typical smirks, and she looks over to Reed. "Well, it might be some kind of Get, but… not the kind I'm rearing." She draws in a breath and nods to Reed. "So, the scowly look just because you're confused about the how of that happening, or it set you up with some kind of pre-existing judgement against her?"
Reed shakes his head, defiance finding a foothold. "Wasn't disrespecting, just trying to see it. And… It's weird. That a …that a dragon could do that. Or like… that the Wyld did that. Just. Like. Trying to figure it out."
Her hand can be perceived digging more deeply into the pocket of her coat, her arm burying itself up past her wrist as she fishes about. Finally, she comes upon what she was looking for and yanks loose a worn leather wallet. She opens it, flips through a handful of cards, and pries loose the one she was looking for. It's flicked in Reed's direction with considerable accuracy, frisby-esque. "…Then don't picture it." The plastic card lands near to Reed's feet. Anyone would be able to discern that it's a driver's license of some kind. Reed, being closer, will be able to identify it as a learner's permit, displaying a bored-looking young man with features that scarcely resemble Riley's. If one were to squint, one could comment on a 'family resemblance' of some kind in the eyes and nose, but the difference is night and day. "That's the most current one I have. If you're curious, have Flint dig up a picture of me from last January. I'm sure we still have tape backups of the security cams."
Flint glances at Riley. "Would be easier to just, draw it," Flint points out. "Backups are buried somewhere."
Emma gives Reed a nod and a grunt. "Welcome to the war kid. This is why it's so important to learn from your elders and take their stories and lessons and advice to heart." She stands up then as the Walkers enlighten the younger Ahroun, looking toward the kitchen with a faint sort of, 'Can I help myself?' nod toward it.
Reed stoops to pick up the card. Doubt fits into the equation as he looks from the picture on the ID to the ragabash in question. Several times. "You sure this isn't some kind of strange joke or whatever? I know how ragabash do that and like… I just don't see you as a guy. Not this guy." The driver's permit is held up then offered to the Fostern.
Riley offers Emma a brief nod of her head as she glances toward the kitchen, the ragabash's thumbs hooking at her pockets while the rest of her hands hang loose of them. Reed's disbelief is met with a brief bark of laughter, and she advances to take the card back from him, tucking it casually back into her coat. "…If this is a joke, I'm impatiently waiting for the punchline, kid. Guess short of footage, I can't prove it." She shrugs, "Unless you want me to go into vivid detail of how inaccurate a stream of piss can be, how it sucks when the stream splits for no reason, or how sometimes when you're pissin' sitting down and the toilet's too shallow, ya teabag yerself in the toilet water." She looks thoughtful, "Can't say I miss gettin' erections for no reason in public places, but I do miss the peeing standing up. Also, wankin' it was way more convenient than having to sorta contort to…" She trails off, shaking her head, "Y'know, I'll leave that out. Fact is, it happened, it was permanent, and bein' permanent, it ain't gonna un-happen."
Flint looks at Riley, with this sort of please stop look, as the ragabash talks, then the cliath retreats all the way into the office as more details happen. And shuts the door.
In the kitchen, there is a short, mostly-caught chuckle at the explanation unfolding. Emma comes out with a can of soda in hand and the tab halfway through being pulled. She's grinning, and as she catches the tail end of Flint's retreat, that laugh comes free. "Nicely done. And the Get think they can only cower cubs with fists." To Reed she turns next, "I'm sure this shit wasn't easy for Riley here, but she seems to have a pretty solid grip on it now. Can learn a lot from that." A sip is taken, "Got some running to do, but I'll come back later and see who's around. Riley. Pleasure meeting you. Seriously. Lemme know if either of your guests cause ya too much hassle."
"What, dude." Reed looks from Riley to the retreating Flint to Emma. "Stop, jeez," he says while looking back at Riley. As if Emma doesn't need to know the inner workings of guy-dom. "Seriously. Fine. You used to be a guy. Whatever. That's just… Shut up."
Chuckling under her breath at Reed's reaction, Riley simply shrugs her shoulders, murmuring, "Your fault, ye of little faith." Emma's words are met with a quirk of Riley's lips, and she bobs her head, "Well he's a Cliath," Riley's expression becomes slightly distasteful, "But I take your meaning. Pleasure meetin' ya, Emma-rhya." She holds the door open for the Adren, and closes and secures it after her.
"Yeah, but going on like that in front of Emma?" Regardless of Emma's reaction, seems Reed would rather the adren not been present for that colorful explanation. "For real. That's like… just wrong."
The office door remains shut, and there's the slightly tinny sound of music being played louder than headphones through it.
Riley is clearly enjoying the reaction—the flash of teeth in her grin is all the proof one needs to see that she is, indeed, a ragabash. "What, Emma some sort of sensitive snowflake?" She claps a hand to her chest, swooning, "A blushing maiden, unfit to hear the reasons why your aim is so atrocious!" She gives a soft snort of laughter, and shrugs her shoulders. "Imagine she'll survive." She turns a glance toward the closed door of the security room, arching a brow, "It's Blushy McPuberty over there that I'm more concerned about."
Reed looks over at the office door, his own brows pushing upward toward his hairline. "What's his problem?"
Riley's answer is short, and clipped. "A lot. But relevant to the current situation? He somehow dodged puberty or something. I'd call him asexual, 'cept even the asexuals I've met don't revile sex, they're just indifferent. You'd think a kid with so many ancestral voices kickin' around in his head would have plenty of past-life material to work with when it comes to talkin' about anything sexually charged."
"Maybe he just needs to watch porn," Reed says as he looks at Riley. "Or go to a strip club. Something. Maybe he's into guys?"
"Couldn't hurt matters," Riley laughs. "Anyhow, I'm gonna take a shower. Tease Flint relentlessly about this for me." With that, she wanders over to the stairs, and heads on up.
The music leaking into the lobby quiets, but it's some minutes after Riley's left the lobby that Flint opens the office door, cigarette and pack of cigarettes in one hand, but not lit yet. The cliath has actually shed the sweatshirt, and he looks at Reed, before heading for the laundry room.
Reed shakes his head at Riley's exit, then looks at Flint when the cliath reappears. Whatever orders he'd been given aren't followed, since Reed goes toward the stairs rather than speak.