Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Edgewood House: Garage(#1947RAJh)
This old and spacious building was once a fairly large carriage barn, but has been converted first as garage, and then into something else entirely. It once had massive two-story front doors, but they've been permanently closed, and a smaller door built into them. The walls appear to have been reinforced in some way, making them stronger and somewhat soundproof. The size of about two large rooms, the first floor is undivided. It's got wooden plank flooring, and has exercise equipment dotting its expanse, with free weights in one area, a punching bag in a corner, and other equipment scattered about. There's a rough ladder up to the second floor, which is carpeted, but has unfinished walls, a few dangling light bulbs, and is apparently serving as a somewhat informal bunk area. The lighting is, understandably, somewhat inadequate. The floor mostly consists of mattresses, innumerable throw pillows and bed pillows, warm bedding, and the occasional glimpse of carpet. There are a few shoes resting against the wall near the ladder; clearly, people are expected to take their footwear off once they get up here. A wooden door on the upper part of the garage leads into the second floor landing of the house.
Contents:
Flint
Obvious exits:
Meadow House
Izzy
No more than 13 or 14 years old, maybe five and a half feet tall and all skinny-wiry in that decidedly not-filled-out-yet way. Wavy coffee-coloured hair's been somewhat haphazardly cut, or perhaps allowed to grow out; it's barely above the collar in the back, and in the front a floppy fringe half-hides dark, solid eyebrows and constantly threatens to fall into a pair of wide hazel eyes. The kid's tawny complected, with a smattering of noticable freckles across the cheeks and the strong, straight nose, and seems thus far to be mostly winning the battle against teenage acne. A wide, somewhat full-lipped mouth contains clean but slightly crooked teeth, untamed by braces. One might also notice a certain alert balance to the stance -- not aggressive, but more like a coiled spring of potential energy restrained just beneath a placid surface.
Today's clothing consists of a light blue button-down shirt tucked loosely into old but presentable jeans, accessorized with aged black high-top converse, navy suspenders, and a navy bow tie with little silver polkadots. There's an unbuttoned cardigan over top, dark grey and oversized enough to need pushing up at the wrists, and when it's cold enough an ankle-length tan wool coat is added to the outfit, along with a multi-coloured striped knit scarf of truly remarkable length. An old brown leather satchel hanging off one shoulder completes the ensemble.
Flint
Flint stands just shy of five and a half feet tall, still slight of frame and build. Black, partially untamed hair hangs past his ears in need of a haircut, framing a slender, fine-boned face and equally dark eyes. Much of the time, his hair is pulled back with a simple tie, leaving only the occasional strand loose to fall in his face. His fair skin is freckled across his face and arms, though not discernibly tanned.
His clothing, visibly secondhand or hand-me-down, hangs loose on his gangly frame. Most often, Flint is found in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, or other similarly loose items.
Early enough that it's still pretty dark inside, but thanks to the miracle of electricity, the inside of the garage is merely insufficiently light. A mere matter of letting the eyes adjust! Down on the first floor of the garage, with coat, scarf, cardigan, and satchel all set in a reasonably neat pile several feet away, Izzy is currently having an altercation with the punching bag. It would probably be more accurate to call it a striking-and-kicking bag, at present.
The door from the meadow shakes a little bit, a scrabble of paws and then a thunk as someone regains his footing. The door opens to admit a slight teenaged boy pulling a jacket around himself against the chill from outdoors, and when the door's shut behind him, Flint rubs his hands together slightly, looking over to watch Izzy but not interrupt.
Izzy glances toward the sound at the door, tensing slightly, but when it opens and doesn't admit anyone or thing that looks immediately threatening, the cub relaxes a bit again, calling over fairly cheerfully, "Morning!"
Flint yawns widely. "G'morning..." Flint calls out, brow furrowing to watch Izzy, trying to sift through his memory to see if he recognises her. And to no avail, the Glass Walker just stares for a moment, then shrugs almost to himself. 'I will, I will,' he mutters as he pulls off his jacket. "Flint, called Requiem. Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children by deed, cliath Galliard of the Glass Walkers." Pause, and the low tones return, addressing ... well, certainly not talking to Izzy. 'See, happy now?'
"Oh, um. Izzy Sparks, not called anything else yet. Silent Strider and Philodox cub. Nice to meet you, Mr. Flint." Izzy has both hands on the punching bag at present, steadying it from the previous impacts that had set it swinging, and watching Flint curiously. "...who are you talking to? I mean, aside from me."
Flint grimaces a little at the more formal tone of address. "Just Flint is. Will be fine, as long as there's none else around. I don' do formality too much," the teen says, pulling off the black beanie and running a hand through hair that reaches nearly to his shoulders, and then moving over to find somewhere not too far from Izzy to sit. "Myself. Well. Not quite myself, but... It's. It's a bad habit."
Izzy hesitates, curiosity clear, but that =was= a fairly clear suggestion that Flint doesn't care to go into it further. "...okay. Glass Walkers is one of the other tribes, right? I only know about a few of them so far." The cub releases the bag and moves slightly back, starting in to attack it again, but with some attention still on the other garou.
Flint draws a knee up to his chest and rests his head on hit, half-watching Izzy. "Really," he tells the cub with a grin. "It's. Ask your elders about. Ask what happens when some Garou have-- they have a connection to their ancestors sometimes." This seems to be the most explanation that the Galliard cares to offer. "But I'm not s'posed to talk back aloud. Except, when I'm tired I do anyway." Shrug, and then he nods to her question. "Yes. The Glass Walkers are Cockroach's tribe," is offered with a wry smile. "We're what a lot of Garou call, they. What a lot call Urrah. Because, we live in the city, and we like the city."
"Okay, I will," Izzy answers, and almost certainly =will= ask, too. Something about the tone makes that clear -- like there's mental note-taking going on. There's a bit of a pause before the cub says, "...is that a neutral thing or a bad thing to call someone? Urrah? And does that mean the rest of us don't live in the city? 'cause it seems like there'd be kind of a lot of Dwelling and Breeding going on there if most of us wouldn't go near it."
A moment passes in pause and thought. "It depends, as far as. Whether if it's a good thing or not. A lot of tribes, they'll use Urrah as an insult towards us--the Glass Walkers--and the Bone Gnawers. The Bone Gnawers are, they're the other city tribe." The Galliard speaks with pauses and moments of hesitation, but so far, those seem to be normal for the teen. Flint watches Izzy, carefully, then continues. "A lot of the tribes prefer not to. Not to live in the city. It can be hard, because, humans--regular people--can feel Rage, and it. It makes them uncomfortable around us. Especially Ahrouns, and often. Often Galliards and Philodox too." Flint wrinkles his nose a moment, then shrugs.
Izzy considers that quietly, or at least as quietly as one can while still practising strikes on a punching bag. "...can they feel it before we change, too? 'cause I thought it was just a junior high thing that a lot of people I knew didn't really want to hang around me anymore, but maybe it was that. If they can, I mean." A good, strong kick to the side of the bag, fairly high, and the cub steps slightly away from the thing, with a small, satisfied nod. "Um. When you say it depends though, is that like you take in account how someone's saying it, or more like if you're a city werewolf you can say it but if you're a country one you prolly shouldn't?"
Flint gives the cub another looking over, and this time, Flint's expression has both understanding and sympathy. "Something like that," he says. "I. I got kicked out of class a lot, when I even went to school. Or I got ignored, and I. I got in fights, got sent to the office but the office didn't. They didn't want me sitting around, either. And I thought people were just, you know. Stupid. But it was the feeling Rage thing, too. When. When I first met Kavi-rhya, I was pretty surprised that he even talked to me, an' was nice to me, before they explained th' whole Garou thing." A nod. "Yes, pretty much. That. I mean, I'm okay saying I'm Urrah, because-- because I am. I miss the city, being away from it, the city's home for me. But I don't like being called Urrah scum very much." Which implies that it's happened a time or two.
Headtilt. "...I think pretty much once someone puts scum on the end of a thing no one wants them calling them it," Izzy muses. "I mean. 'Genius scum' or 'millionaire scum' or, um... 'chief justice scum'... 'rockstar scum'..." A headshake, and the cub comes over to take a seat in chatting distance of the other teen. "I didn't get in a lot of fights, I mostly just got ignored. Which is prolly better, all in all." Quiet a moment. "I liked the city okay. It's really big, though."
Flint grins faintly, but it's a distinctly tired expression. "Yeah. I. Really didn't like getting into fights much. But. It happened wh-- whether I wanted to or not. And I was lucky," Flint adds, too. "I was lucky, none of the fights I got in ever pushed it too far and I. I had a kinfetch."
Izzy winces faintly at the idea of one of those fights going 'too far'. "...yeah. That would've been, um. Awkward? Difficult to explain for sure. I had a kinfetch too, and when I changed I couldn't even stand up, but Mr. Mesu-Ma'at had to hit me in the back of the head until I passed out to get me to stop trying to attack Alexandra =anyway=. So that'd. Prolly not go down really well at school. All in all."
Flint nods. "Yeah. It woulda been a lot more to deal with. It happens, sometimes, but. Yeah." Flint purses his lips, shrugs, and draws both knees to his chest, arms linking around in front. "I. For me, Kavi-rhya and Mouse-rhya and Devon took me down to the basement. And then it didn't take much prodding before I changed. And well, Kavi-rhya and Mouse-rhya were. They were ready, and expecting it, and all." A grin, and a twinge of... yep, homesickness again, as both of Flint's elders are spoken of fairly fondly.
"I don't think I've met any of them yet," Izzy says. "...well, I guess that's kinda obvious, actually, or else I'd prolly have heard about Glass Walkers already. But, yeah. Why do they have names that end in rhya? I think I've heard of a couple other people with that, too. Is it just coincidence or does it mean something? And, um. For mine I'd been having kind of a bad day, and we'd just gotten here and Mr. Mesu-Ma'at asked Alexandra to show me crinos and lupus, and I kind of freaked out a little. So I think he was kinda expecting it too."
Once more, Flint nods. "I'd been. I was having a bad day too," he tells Izzy. "And, well. -rhya is. It's a title of sorts, it's not a name. It means that someone's above you in rank. Like, that I'm a cliath, and you're a cub," the explanation continues, "except please /don't/, jus' like I asked you, not to. Not to call me mister." The Galliard grins at the other teen, sticking his tongue out for a moment. "At least, not while there's no need for formality. Kavi and Mouse-- they're my elders, and so."
Izzy nods at that, grinning back a bit. "Okay. So I would call you Flint-rhya, except of course that you asked me not to so I won't. ...I like that, I think. Have you been a cliath for a long time? 'cause you don't look that much older than I am. Um. If you don't mind me saying so. But I think Alexandra's younger than I am, and she was a cub before I was..."
"I've only been cliath for," and Flint pauses, pulling one hand to count on fingers. Yep, it hasn't been long at all. "Just over a week and a bit. I'm fourteen, and I. I don't mind. And yeah, Lex is younger." There is a grin at the mention of the Shadow Lord cub. "I. I only found out about. You know, the whole Garou thing, in the end of December." And then Flint peers at Izzy, almost expectantly. After all, she brought up chronological age, so.
Izzy laughs. "You levelled up a few days before I changed, then. And I'm 14 too. Until April 14th, anyway. I didn't really know about the Garou thing until a week ago. There's a whole lot of stuff to learn for it, you know? ...how long did it take you to learn Mother's Tongue? I feel like that's going to take a while. The only thing I can say so far is 'sorry'."
Flint pulls his fingers through his hair and eventually comes up with a hairtie out of his jacket, easily and quickly pulling -most- of his hair back and out of his face. "There is a lot. I. A few things, are easier for me. Because I have the, the connection to my ancestors," the cliath explains, "but that's not over-common, and. But it made learning Mother's Tongue a. A little easier. And I'm a Galliard, and talking. It's part of-- talking and telling stories is a part of what Galliards do, and languages aren't hard for me to begin with." Though maybe speaking gets to be.
"I wouldn't mind having some kind of connection to my ancestors," Izzy says, a touch wistfully. "I never even met my grandparents, and I'm pretty sure you have to go at least that far back to count. So... do you tell a lot of stories, then? What about?"
Flint offers a sympathetic glance, and nods. "I don't even know a whole. A whole side of my family, myself," he says. "My dad was-- he was Garou, we think? And my mom's normal, and she couldn' deal with it, and neither could. He couldn't either, or he died, or somethin', and. He was gone before I can remember, I don' even know his name. It's not. It's not on my birth certificate, or." He forces a shrug. "And my mom up and left, and her parents. They're human--normal human--too."
Izzy returns the sympathetic glance. "That must've been really hard. I mean, with them all being normal. I mean, it's one thing for kids at school to have trouble dealing with you, but... yeah." A pause, and then a little quieter, "My mom's Garou, Mr. Mesu-Ma'at says. She wasn't ever around much, and now she's missing. That's how I ended up here, the last postcard we got from her was from here, back in October. He thinks my dad was kin, too. He." The cub looks down, examining hands that are perfectly clean but apparently MIGHT have dirt on them and this must be checked just in case. "He died in November. Dad, I mean. Um. Sorry, I know that's kind of awkward. Anyway. I kind of... I dunno, I think this whole Garou thing is maybe sort of like what having cousins would be like. Like, you don't necessarily all like each other all that much, but it's still kinda...um. I dunno how to say it. Prolly a good thing I'm not a Galliard." Tiny half-smile.
There's a reassuring smile for the cub from Flint. "It's okay," he says, quietly. "And yeah. It. It can be. Your tribe... they're your family now, just as much." His tone by itself indicates just how strong the belief from which he says that is. "Even if you don't, if you don't necessarily get along with them. And. And Wisdom's Path-rhya and Tim-rhya are both good people from what I've seen. And so is Sera-rhya."
"Mr. Mesu-Ma'at is awesome," Izzy says, with what sounds like entirely genuine admiration. "He answers all my questions and hasn't gotten annoyed with them once, yet. And keeps coming back and teaching me basically every day. And I only met Mr. Tim once so far, but he was cool too. He showed me this thing he can do where he just disappears. Which is pretty impressive. I don't think I met Ms. Sera yet." A pause, brow furrowing. "Unless... I mean it's not that unusual a name but I did meet one, briefly. At Garcia's. She was, um. About my height and around my skin colour and really skinny, and she had a cowboy hat over her hair, so I dunno what that looked like. And sunglasses, so I dunno about her eyes either. Which I guess isn't really much of a description, come to think of it."
Flint grins. "That'd be Sera," Flint muses. "I'm sure. I'm sure you'll meet her again soon, or. She's around Edgewood a lot." The Glass Walker leans back on his hands, relaxing somewhat. "The disappearing thing is cool. It's. It's a Ragabash gift. Has... has Wisdom's Path-rhya taught you much, about the auspices yet?" There's a slightly unidentifiable twist of expression, Flint going distant and shaking his head to himself for a moment.
Izzy considers. "Well. It's kind of hard to say 'cause I don't know how much I don't know yet. But he told me there's five auspices, and their names and moons and the kind of stuff they mostly do. And yeah, they told me that was a Ragabash gift, but apparently also it's from Owl, too, so he can teach it to us. Well, not to me for a long time, I think. But eventually. That would be pretty cool. And Mr. Mesu-Ma'at can do one that tells him if someone's telling the truth or not, which he said I can learn later. And I know there's one for sensing whether something's Wyrm or not, too, but that's all the gifts I know about so far."
Flint nods several times. "The truth-telling gift is. It's a gift of your auspice," the Galliard says with a smile. "I. I have a Gift that lets me hear things that've been said in a room before, if. If it's empty while I try." The Glass Walker grins. "And, that's a good start," he adds, to what the cub knows or does not know. "There's a lot more, but that's a. It's a real good start."
"So you can kinda eavesdrop in retrospect? That's pretty neat." Izzy pauses. "Don't you kinda get tempted to try it every time you're in an empty room, just to see what was going on before?" The cub's sitting near Flint down on the first floor of the garage, chatting -- the coat, cardigan, scarf, and satchel are currently in a neat pile nearby. "...and thanks. I'm trying to learn everything, but there's so much stuff I end up having to keep a whole mental list of questions I haven't got to yet."
The Glass Walker grins at the first question. "A little. It. Especially since I just learned how to recently. But then there are times where I. Where it's something I actually /need/ to be able to do, I try not to do so. For no reason, if. Does that make sense?" A pause from Flint after he asks the question. "Plus, it's not really quite so easy, sometimes. It takes concentration and effort if. If I want to hear what I'm looking for."
Jacey
Still just a child, yet Jacey has grown to a couple inches shy of an even five feet. Still she retains a lanky look, almost atheletic in its build. There is toned muscle lining her frame, but a youthful skinniness belies the strength those muscles show.
She's a cute kid, despite some recent scarring, with short strawberry blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across both cheeks. There is still the half inch thick line that runs along the left side of her neck from the hairline in back to the collar in front. Newer still is a trio of thin white lines that start at the top of her right cheekbone and end at her lips. This addition doesn't seem to detract from her appearance much.
Jace is usually seen wearing jeans, most often overalls and T-shirts, and occasionally a jacket in cooler weather, all of which are noteably newer and cleaner than she'd previously been seen in. No more does the outdoors cling to her clothing or shoes as it once did, though evidence of her woodsy hauntings can be seen in minorly worn out knees and frayed cuffs.
The barn door opens slowly, spilling some of the weak light from outside onto the garage floor. It's barely wide enough for someone to pass through, yet someone does. Silhouetted from behind, the one entering stands be little more than a child, and a child in truth as the door closes behind and seals out the daylight to reveal the disruption.
Izzy headtilts. "...yeah, mostly. I mean, I get sorta... wanting to respect a thing by not treating it like a toy, I guess. But, if it's hard sometimes, that seems like a reason to do it more, for the practise." The cub breaks off at the sound of the door and the change in the light as it opens, and squints toward the newest arrival. "Um. Hello!"
Flint turns first his head and then his entire sitting posture to face the girl entering. For a long moment, the Glass Walker's silent, but when the door closes and reveals who it is, Flint breaks into a wide grin. "Jacey-rhya!" he calls out, evidently quite pleased to see the other Galliard.
Jacey looks back when she notes voices inside, surprise on her features. "Oh," she says quietly, then "Oh," again more loudly, grinning. She raises a hand, "H'lo, Flint, new girl. I knew there were people inside, just not in here. Sorry if I'm interrupting."
"Um. Hi," the cub replies, lifting a hand in return. "I'm Izzy Sparks, no other names yet, and I'm a Silent Strider cub and a Philodox. Which, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to tell you 'cause Flint called you -rhya. So I hope I didn't mess that up. And we were just talking about gifts and stuff."
Jacey squints at Izzy, stepping further into the garage. "Or boy." She shrugs, then grins anew. "Nope, you did pretty good. Flint's a good kid to talk to. Or, I think so. Only seen him around a couple of times, but such is the busy life of Garou."
Flint bounces to his feet, and grins at Jacey a bit more. "Yeah, busy indeed," he says. "I. Mouse-rhya and Kavi-rhya set a task and. I passed, and I'm cliath now." The words come out in a rush, with a faint tone of excitement. "And, things've been. Better, too." A smile and nod are offered over to Izzy.
Izzy gives Flint a small grin for the excited-talking, and looks slightly relieved at Jacey's assurance. "Thanks. He's been good to talk to so far. What kinds of stuff are you mostly busy with? I'm, um. Kind of new." As though 'cub' didn't suggest that already, but hey.
"Just... the normal things." Jacey offers a shrug. "Protecting the Bawn, talking with my pack brothers. Hopefully soon we'll be going into the Umbra to find our Totem."
Flint gives a weak laugh. "Normal stuff sounds like it'd. That'd be nice," Flint says quietly. "But at least. It's never boring."
"It sounds pretty interesting," Izzy agrees. The cub's sitting near Flint in the lower floor of the garage, and looks over to him next, asking, "What kind of task did they set for you? Was it really hard? Mr. Mesu-Ma'at mentioned the Rite of Passage thing but he didn't get a chance to really tell me much about it yet."
Hearing conversation from outside of the Garage, Aaron opens one of the side doors and takes a peak inside of the building. Seeing the three individuals, the Gnawer raises his hand in a semi-wave by way of greeting.
Aaron
This man has a roguish "life on the streets" but handsome figure. Almond-shaped dark eyes stare intensely with inner-sovereignty between a masculine nose. Curly raven hair is cut short and styled and from his chin is a clean-shaven goatee. His fair skin shows the physical pains he has had to endure. He has a variety of small scars from childhood scrimmages and a few from adulthood. The worst scar is the one that begins just at the bottom of his ear and runs down to his shoulder. While he doesn't have a bodybuilder's body-type, his figure is completely muscle and athletically built. The lingering smell of spicy, cheap aftershave rises off from his body. He is often found wearing a pair of durable blue-jeans and a tee-shirt that fits snuggly over his to show the forming abdominals and pectorals of his muscular body. On cooler days he wears a hooded sweatshirt. Also he has on a pair of worn tennis shoes that almost seem too big for his feet.
"No," Jacey agrees. "Never boring. Better that way, it gets weird when there's nothing to do, like we're just waiting for something to happen." She glances over her shoulder when the door opens, squinting again then nodding to Aaron. "Everyone's Rite of Passage is different, she continues, her attention returning to Izzy. "Every tribe does it different, and it's not quite the same for every auspice either."
Flint peers over at Aaron, then abruptly sits back down, crosslegged this time. "I had to learn stories of members. Of members of my tribe who've fallen in defense of the caern, and I came up with something, to make a memorial." A faint grin. "And then. I. I had to tell the-- my idea to Kavi-rhya, Mouse-rhya, and Salem-rhya."
Izzy glances over at the sound of the door opening, and -- seeing Aaron's semi-wave -- gives a semi-wave in return, and a polite, "Hello!" Jacey's remarks get a thoughtful nod, and Flint's explanation gets some consideration, too. "That does sound like a kind of, um. Galliardy thing. What did you come up with for making a memorial? Or is that a secret kind of thing?"
Flint looks over at Izzy and shakes his head as his phone buzzes in his pocket. "Um. When I get back, maybe?" Aaron gets a nod, and Jacey gets a wide grin, "Jacey-rhya." And then the cliath's making his way right out the door to the meadow, phone held to his ear.
Aaron decides to slip into the barn. His head moves around on his shoulders as he takes in the building as if he were seeing it for the first time or has not need it in a very long time. His gaze finally travels towards Jacey and the others and he smiles politely in silence. Anyone spending more than a few moments glancing at the Gnawer will notice that from one of his ears down to his shoulder there is a scar far gruesome than any other that are visible on the Ahroun's skin. Either he is being polite or his silence has a reason.
Jacey watches Flint take his call and shrugs. Her gaze lifts to Aaron, watching him move into the barn with a curious look. "H'lo," she offers as well, a brow lifting just a little. Her weight shifts some, placing herself sort of between the cub and the newcomer without actually blocking either of them.
Izzy nods to Flint, and looks over to the newest arrival again as well. "Um. How are you?" the cub ventures, looking fully aware of the awkwardness of that attempt at opening some conversation here.
The Gnawer notices Jacey's body language and sobers his smile to something a little more neutral. 'I am Aaron,' he speaks in nothing more than a whisper and sign-language. If one cannot hear Aaron, all you see is his mouth moving. 'Sorry, I was just looking - this place has changed since I was last here.'
"I'm Jacey," the elder Galliard returns with a small nod. "Good to meet you, Aaron. You... are a friend of the owner's family?" She indicates the house, as she voices her question.
"I'm Izzy," the cub volunteers, and leaves the important questions to the Fostern.
'I am also named Lionheart, I don't believe any of you remember me as Savages-Enemy, and I am Ahroun Bone Gnawer of Fostern-rank.' It takes a lot out of the Ahroun to speak as much but he manages and slowly begins to smile again.
"Before me," Jacey says with a slow shake of her head. His response eases her own subtle tensions, though, and she turns to include the cub in her introduction. "Known also as Reforges the Lost, Galliard and Fostern of the Fianna."
Izzy leans in a little to hear Aaron better, and gives Jacey a small smile in recognition of the inclusion for the introduction before looking back to the Gnawer. "I don't have any other names yet. But I'm a Silent Strider cub, and a Philodox. Nice to meet you both."
Aaron smiles at the cub, 'You'll have one soon enough.' He looks over at Jacey and gives her a glance over. 'Ah, Fianna are good folk.' he smiles broadly at her. Then back to Izzy, 'You've been on four-legs yet?'
The door from the meadow opens again, and Flint returns with a faint smile that turns into a hint of tension at not recognising Aaron. But rather than say anything as he walks in, the teen just looks over to Jacey, a half-question in the gaze he gives the other Galliard.
Jacey looks past Aaron to Flint, meeting question look with questioning look.
Izzy nods to Aaron, and smiles a little in return. "Thank you. And yes sir, I have. It's fun, now that I figured out how not to fall over the legs I'm not used to, anyway. Though, I can't go up the ladder yet. I'm gonna practice that later, I think."
Aaron looks silently between Flint and Jacey. Since the Gnawer has no clue who Flint is, he just looks at Jacey with a question gaze of who goes first. Then he looks to Izzy, 'Just be aware that when you are named, it might be something that isn't too flattering; for instance, mine was Slower-Than-A-Speeding-Bullet but it did press me to work on that...'
Flint watches a moment, seeing Aaron speak but not /hearing/ it and that look of question is directed to Jacey again before the cliath just shoves his hands in his pockets and takes the initiative to go first. "Flint, called Requiem," the teen states, not quite flatly. "Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children by deed, cliath and Galliard of the Glass Walkers." And then, half curiosity and half to hear better, he walks over to within a few paces of where Aaron stands.
Jacey shakes her head at Flint then grins at the cub and Ahroun. "My first cubname was Head in the Clouds," she admits. "But I did things, and was given the deed name Rift Mender. You never know what you'll get."
Aaron doesn't appear to mind it when the others come in a little closer to hear him. He also accompanies all of his whispering with sign-language out of habit. 'Aaron, Lionheart, Bone Gnawer Ahroun of Fostern-rank.' He then smiles and nods at Jacey and Izzy.
Izzy can't help laughing a little at both the cubnames. "Now I'm kind of worried! ...well, okay, not really. I could live with something like those. I kind of like Slower-Than-A-Speeding-Bullet, actually. I mean, people should worry more if you're not, you'd prolly deafen them as you ran by." The cub doesn't seem to know the sign language, but does pay fairly close attention to Aaron's lips when the Gnawer talks. It's almost certainly the whispers that actually work, though.
Flint nods, easing and taking a half-step back to restore personal space regardless of the Bone Gnawer's volume. Another glance is given to his phone before he shoves it into his pocket, and for all that the teenager seems weary, whatever he sees on his phone makes him less so.
"Again, Izzy," Jacey says easily. "It depends on the tribe, the elder, the mood. Lots of things. My cub brother was called No Name is as Great as His before he earned his deed name of Grudge Ender. And his Cliath name was entirely different as well, Tames the Foxes in the Hen House."
The Gnawer gives a concern expression to Flint's weary look. 'I talked to Kevin-rhya a few days ago, he seemed to remember me pretty well... you two know each other that well?' he asks. Then, to Jacey's comment to Izzy, he simply nods in agreement.
Izzy blinks at that one. "...how did he get 'No Name is as Great as His'? I mean, the others are interesting too, but that sounds more like one of those God references some people use than, well, a cub."
Flint sinks to a crouch and then a seated position, offering a half shrug to Aaron. "I'm fine. Have just been busy. Better. Better now that we know Rajani is not dead," he explains off-handedly, falling silent once more.
Jacey cracks a smile and shrugs. "He's Get of Fenris," she says as though that explains it all. And perhaps in her mind it does. "--Rajani might have been dead," Jacey asks, a pointed look settling on Flint.
Aaron shrugs his shoulders, 'I don't know who Rajani is,' he whispers. Then he digs into his pocket when his cheap phone vibrates. He looks at the display before looking up and smiling. 'Pardon me,' he says. 'It was nice meeting you all.' At that, he turns and starts to make his way to the door.
"...like Mr. Owen," Izzy says, though possibly not for anyone else's benefit. The Strider brightens a bit at Flint's remark. "Really? People mentioned her last night and they thought she was, I remember the name. They'll be happy, I think." Aaron gets a wave of farewell.
Flint pulls a knee to his chest and nods to Jacey. "There was a shapeshifting fomor that impersonated her. It tricked Riley and attacked Riley, and Riley had no memory of any of it. We only found out when I listened to what happened on the roof, and looked at the security logs. It walked /right out/ of the tenement, plain sight." The cliath sighs, rubbing his forehead. "The fomor-- it impersonates people, it plays mind games and mind control. But, Kaz-rhya and some others, they found Rajani actually, though if Rajani is not with Kaz-rhya, Tim-rhya, Keir-rhya, or Lefty-rhya, it is still the fomor." Explanation given, Flint falls silent.
"My kingdom for the days when important information moved faster than it does," Jacey sighs. A hand raises to rub at her neck, trouble brewing on the horizon of her visage. "I don't expect them to accept my offer, but if it's needed, I'll offer whatever assistance I can."
Izzy blinks. "=Kaz=-rhya," the cub says, sounding surprised and rather pleased about that name. "Um... what exactly is a fomor, if it's okay to ask you guys? I've kind of been assuming it's a Wyrm thing, but I didn't get a chance to ask Mr. Mesu-Ma'at for the details last night before he had to go. And why wouldn't people want whatever assistance there was with it?"
Flint shrugs at Jacey, expression turning apologetic. "Sorry Jacey-rhya," he offers. "I'd have brought it. I'd have said sooner, but. I was waiting for Kaz's or Nieve's phone call and kinda limbo with. Everything, and." The words are interrupted by a large yawn that indicates just how much sleep Flint may or _may not_ have gotten in the past week plus some since he's become cliath, and the start of his Rite of Passage before that.
"No, I know," Jacey offers, in haste though trying to be soothing some. "Just annoying how people complain about information not being shared, and here we are, Galliards, and no one's sharing anything." She growls, very throaty and more frustration. But the moment passes and she looks at Izzy. "Fomor are... people or animals, tainted by the Wyrm. Bad, nasty things. If ever I meet Mister Mesu-ma'at, I'll ask him proper about telling you things, but I think it's fair for you to know about what you'll someday face. Don't worry about it now, though." As for why her offer may not be accepted, she doesn't answer or even acknowledge the question.
"...I met a Nieve before I got found, too, and there's prolly not hundreds of them either. Man, is anyone in this city NOT secretly a werewolf?" Izzy asks, though the question is probably rhetorical and certainly doesn't sound unhappy with the new information. Fomor, however, are a different matter altogether. "...so they start out normal and then the Wyrm corrupts them and they get superpowers to use for evil? And thank you." No pushing on the ignored question.
Flint looks over at Izzy. "I met Tim and April, both, before I got found. It. It was disconcerting when I... met them again and all. Kinda what-the-hell," he says, another yawn interrupting the words, head resting on his knee. Too tired to be grumpy, it would seem. "Nieve-rhya is one of my tribemates," Flint adds to Izzy, "she's a Theurge, and Adren."
"I don't remember meeting any other Garou before I changed," Jacey muses, grinning some. "Didn't meet them until I was cubnapped, and..." Stopping herself, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her own phone. Her expression goes rather blank and the phone is pressed back into her pocket. "Sorry, I'm needed... Nice meeting you, Izzy, congrats, Flint. Looking forward to working with you."
"Nice meeting you too, ma'am... um... Jacey-rhya." More accurate! And also it's slightly weird to ma'am someone who's probably younger than you are. "Good luck with... with what you're needed for." Izzy looks over to Flint, head tilting a bit again. "I met her in Harbor Park a couple days after I got into town. I liked her. And you look really, really tired."
Flint watches the other Galliard for a moment, a nod and a smile offered along with a soft 'okay, seeya', before he turns back to Izzy. "You might be really right," he says, humour twinging into his voice. "It's not a big thing, though. I've just had a lot, to do recently, and less sleep."
Izzy points up at the lofted area. "You could take a nap. It's pretty comfy there. And... I mean, I know I don't know a lot yet, but it kinda seems like a lot of the stuff you might have to deal with, it'd be better to be rested and healthy and stuff."
Flint shrugs. "I got some sleep last night. And. It's not so bad, in the other forms," the cliath says. "Right now, I. I'm waiting on another phonecall. If I fall asleep, I might. I might miss it. And I can't sleep, anyway." A grin is offered to Izzy. "So, it's okay, thanks though." The last few words are reassuring, ringing true as if to push the lack of importance of the subject.
Izzy looks more than slightly dubious about this 'can't sleep anyway' thing, having seen all the yawning and related being-obviously-exhausted. Still, there is that waiting for a call thing. That's a pretty good argument, right? "Well, I mean. It's up to you, obviously." The cub shrugs, reaching up to wrangle some unruly bangs.
Flint chuckles a bit. "No worries," he assures Izzy, stretching arms out above his head and then sideways for a moment. "Once I get the call I'll prolly sleep. Once all this settles, I'll. Sleep for a few days." A grin.
"Just don't sleep the long sleep," is the reply, the last three words in as exaggeratedly ominous a tone as the cub can conjure up, before grinning back. It's brief, as usual, but genuine. "How about eating? That won't interfere with calls, as long as you don't eat a whole lot of peanut butter in one go or something. We could go see about lunch."
Flint pushes to his feet. "That sounds good. And you. Maybe you can tell me some of what Wisdom's Path-rhya's already taught you? While we eat?" The cliath offers a smile. "I know, for me while I was a cub, that made things stick more. Being able to go over them. And. As long as you're just telling me... what you've been taught, then it's. It's not out-tribe teaching, or anything." With that, the Glass Walker begins moving towards the loft, upstairs, and eventually the kitchen.
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