Climbing trees.
Dec. 28th, 2011 09:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kiananlogsWednesday, 28 December 2011
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (23% full).
Back to the city! April veers into Harbor Park as soon as she can. The greenery, as it is, an ever welcomed sight for the woman even this late at night. Her steps slow once she's fully within the park and she takes her time to enjoy the night air even with the high humidity.
Sneaking out is no new pastime for Flint Madden, but there's no actual delinquency going on once the teenager has gotten to the park. He strolls along one of the paths, looking around, hands in his pockets and the sleeves of the gray hoodie he's wearing pushed up. There's a generally sullen expression on his face, and every so often, a pebble gets picked up and thrown to the side, idly.
It's a dark night, with only a sliver of moon visible through wispy clouds. Somewhere, several blocks away, comes the sound of loud, laughing voices and the steady 'bum bum' beat of music.
April comes up to one of the trees just off the path. Her steps taking her to the base of the trunk so that she can tilt her head back and peer up at the branches above. It's almost as if she's looking for something.
There are few enough people out in the park at this time of night that seeing the woman gives Flint pause, and though his strolling was nowhere near speed, and nowhere near fast, there is that teenaged awkwardness as he skids to a halt to watch her. "Didja' lose somethin' up the tree?" The question is called out softly, a California drawl colouring the words, the sort of accent that's indiscriminate and difficult to place.
April keeps her eyes up in the tree for a moment. "Think there's something up there," she states before glancing over towards the teenager who addresses her. "Not sure if it's a bird or a squirrel." She glances back up at the tree top. "Care to climb up there and find out?"
The boy gives April an appraising glance, and then shrugs. "Haven't climbed a tree in a long time," Flint says. There's a pause, and he bends down and picks up another pebble, though it's tossed in his hand rather than out into the grass. "Plus, wouldn't climbing just scare it, whatever it may be?" Eyebrows raise defiantly as he waits for an answer.
Knit cap pulled down tight against the breeze, Tim comes meandering through the Park. His eyes only flit to the other two for a moment before returning to his target: one of the empty benches. As soon as he's seated he has rolling paper and a tin of tobacco out, and whips up a cigarette with the ease of long practice.
April smirks at the teenager, "Doubt it. Animals like that don't scare too easily. They're too used to people being around them." The pebble in the lads hand is eyed for a moment. "Don't you dare even think about tossing that at it."
"No ma'am," Flint responds, obediently, though there's still the defiant expression on his face. The pebble is dropped almost obediently, back onto the side of the path that it originally came from. A few steps are taken off the path and towards the tree, with a another shrug. "You look like you're prolly good 'nough at climbin' trees yourself," he adds, after a moment of pause.
Cigarette rolled, Tim watches the other two as he lights up. It's a sweet and fragrant smell, more akin to pipe tobacco than your usual light. He blows a smoke ring while he watches.
"I'm not climbing that tree." April replies dryly before looking down at herself. "Does it look like I'm dressed to climb up there?" Once the man on the bench lights up, the fragrant smell of the cigarette quickly reaches April, causing her scrunch up her nose at the smell.
A final shrug, and the backpack is taken off, held out until April takes it. "Don't let it get wet from the ground or anything." It's a request, but then there's an afterthought, and the teenager remembers to be polite, hands shoved into his pockets again. "Please don't let it get wet. Or run off with it, either." The ambivalent expression contorts into a grimace as he contemplates the possibility.
Tim continues to watch the little drama unfold before him, but now and then his attention drifts around them to watch cars on the street or people on the sidewalks. He goes through the cigarette in an unhurried manner.
April looks at Flint as if he's out of his mind for a moment before finally taking his bag from him. She holds it out away from herself as if it was dirty. "Come on now, up you go!" she motions with her other hand even as she gets distracted by that fragrance. Her gaze moving from tree to try and search out the smoker.
Tim is a dark, angular form on a gray park bench, easy to spot even in the walkway lights. He raises his cigarette to April in a salute, giving her a small, wry smile, and continues his visual patrol of the area in between glances at her and Flint.
In all fairness, the backpack is somewhat dirty, and old, like anything else that Flint actually owns. But Flint seems to be satisfied, and he reaches for the first branch, finding foothold after handhold. It is not fast going, but the climbing isn't a difficult thing for him, and when he makes it to an outlying branch he can sit on while seeing up further into the tree, there's the distinct sound of childish blowing a raspberry down at her. "There's nothing there," he says. "Absolutely nothing."
April raises a brow as she spies Tim before whipping her gaze quickly back around and up to face the raspberry blowing teenager in the tree. "I know you're not calling me a liar. Just because it's not up there now, doesn't mean it wasn't there when you started climbing. Not my fault you're so noisy that you scared it away."
One corner of Tim's mouth twitches in a suppressed smile. He is, pretty clearly, listening to the conversation. He blows another smoke ring, sending it out over the meadow, and gets up, ready to resume his walk.
"Riiiiight," comes the response, and this time as Flint climbs down there is no attempt to be quiet. Branches move and leaves rustle in the teenager's wake. It's obvious that he doesn't quite believe her, but there is an unwillingness to be less polite, even if there is some snark involved. As he jumps down to the ground, he grins, albeit a small grin, as he reclaims his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. "And you said they didn't scare easy, too."
"They don't, if you know what you're doing," April replies, her own bit of attitude added into her words. Her eyes glance up at the top of the tree again. "See, already it comes out of hiding now that it knows you're not in the tree," she points out, one hand motioning upwards before she turns her back towards both tree and teenager.
Tim's path along the walkway bring him by the tree and its two examiners. He makes sure to take a drag just then, tilting his head to peer into the tree as he does so.
Flint's attention is distracted from April, distracted from the tree and he turns, watching Tim as well. "Cut it out, would you?!" Every hint of the politeness that had been present when speaking to April is gone, and there is a confrontational tone as the teenager gestures to the cigarette. "Or at least give people some space to breathe, damn it." Then he turns again, back to Tim in order to face April and the tree. "Sorry," he says, more quietly.
April turns to face Tim as he comes nearby with that infernal fragrant cigarette. Her hands go to her hips as she eyes Tim. "You come to say I'm seeing things as well?" she asks the smoker.
Tim blinks slowly, first at Flint and then at April, looking more amused than anything else. To Flint, he says, "Sure thing, kid— who knows, maybe the second-hand smoke really will kill you, right?" He shifts a little downwind, saying to April, "Well since I've got no idea what the claim is you did or didn't see, I wouldn't presume."
Once more, the teenager shrugs, both at April and at Tim, though there's a nod of thanks, the defiance and confrontationalness both gone. "Never said you saw things, jus' that it wasn't actually there," he says. "There's a big difference. People that see things are crazy, and you don't seem crazy." Flint stares back up at the tree for a bit, confused. "Neither of you seem crazy," he adds. "Not like most people seem crazy."
Another pause, and he looks between April and Tim, and then back to April. "Hope you find your bird, ma'am," he adds, with a bit of a laugh. "I should get home, before my grandma or my mom realise I'm out this late."
April turns her attention away from Tim and fully back to Flint. "Oh, I'm crazy. As soon as you run along back home to your mommy I'm going to step right back over to that tree and start talking to it," she states with a straight face before grinning back at Tim as she looks to see his reaction to her words.
"Don't seem crazy?" Tim bursts out in a laugh that goes on long enough to make a person uncomfortable. He manages to calm himself, wheezing, "Right," as he catches his breath. "Well, I won't try too hard to change your opinion." He looks askance at April, his eyes trading mirth for shrewd curiosity.
"Don't seem crazy," Flint repeats, with a slow smile. "Honest to god and all that stuff, compared to everything else and the circumstances leading up to moving here, the two of you both seem perfectly…" a pause, as the boy tries to settle for an appropriate word. "Normal." With that said and done, the teenager pulls headphones out of the backpack, putting them on as he resumes his slow stroll back the way that he had originally came.
April certainly didn't expect for both of them to agree with her as might be judged by the look on her face. "I swear, men are some of the densest creatures on this planet." she grumps.
Tim watches Flint depart through the smoke of one last drag, then tosses the remains into a tin he produces from a jacket pocket. "Normal," he murmurs to himself, his tone almost bitter. He glances up at April as he restores the tin. "Dense? What, because we don't panic over someone wanting to chat up a tree?"
April motions towards the teenager that heads off listening to his music. "Because he doesn't even blink an eye at meeting someone strange in the middle of a park in the middle of the night and you just laugh as you watch us." She shakes her head. "I swear, people in this town are just plain crazy."
"Meeting people in the middle of the Park in the middle of the night's not that uncommon if you're a night owl and not afraid." Tim shrugs and moves to lean against said tree. "You were arguing over whether or not there really was something in the tree with a kid, it was funny. What can I say, maybe I'm just easily amused."
April narrows her eyes a little as Tim leans against the tree. "Well, there is something up there and it definitely wasn't happy with your smoking, nor the kid's poor attempt at climbing."
Something about Tim's attitude changes for just a minute, from amiable good humor to predatory caution. His expression doesn't change much, but what does speaks volumes, and he leans away from the tree, towards April, just a hair. "Smoking doesn't offend everything. Remember, it's that shit they sell in stores rolled up in packs that has all the nasty junk in it that's the real problem, not the stuff you roll yourself." He straightens and pushes off the tree. "And I bet I know this Park a lot better than you do."
April stands her ground though her eyes do drop from his face. "You might right now, but I'm sure I feel it's spirit a hell of a lot better than you do," she replies quietly.
Tim makes a low sound and replies, "I wouldn't bet on that," with a lazy smile as cool as the night air. His steps take him deeper into the Park, rather than out of it, towards the Fountain, and soon he's lost to immediate sight.
April looks back up as the man moves deeper into the park. "That's right, just walk away." she mutters as she waits for the man to be lost from sight. A moment later, she returns to the tree of interest, stepping up to rest a hand on the trunk. "Sorry they're such dicks."
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (23% full).
Back to the city! April veers into Harbor Park as soon as she can. The greenery, as it is, an ever welcomed sight for the woman even this late at night. Her steps slow once she's fully within the park and she takes her time to enjoy the night air even with the high humidity.
Sneaking out is no new pastime for Flint Madden, but there's no actual delinquency going on once the teenager has gotten to the park. He strolls along one of the paths, looking around, hands in his pockets and the sleeves of the gray hoodie he's wearing pushed up. There's a generally sullen expression on his face, and every so often, a pebble gets picked up and thrown to the side, idly.
It's a dark night, with only a sliver of moon visible through wispy clouds. Somewhere, several blocks away, comes the sound of loud, laughing voices and the steady 'bum bum' beat of music.
April comes up to one of the trees just off the path. Her steps taking her to the base of the trunk so that she can tilt her head back and peer up at the branches above. It's almost as if she's looking for something.
There are few enough people out in the park at this time of night that seeing the woman gives Flint pause, and though his strolling was nowhere near speed, and nowhere near fast, there is that teenaged awkwardness as he skids to a halt to watch her. "Didja' lose somethin' up the tree?" The question is called out softly, a California drawl colouring the words, the sort of accent that's indiscriminate and difficult to place.
April keeps her eyes up in the tree for a moment. "Think there's something up there," she states before glancing over towards the teenager who addresses her. "Not sure if it's a bird or a squirrel." She glances back up at the tree top. "Care to climb up there and find out?"
The boy gives April an appraising glance, and then shrugs. "Haven't climbed a tree in a long time," Flint says. There's a pause, and he bends down and picks up another pebble, though it's tossed in his hand rather than out into the grass. "Plus, wouldn't climbing just scare it, whatever it may be?" Eyebrows raise defiantly as he waits for an answer.
Knit cap pulled down tight against the breeze, Tim comes meandering through the Park. His eyes only flit to the other two for a moment before returning to his target: one of the empty benches. As soon as he's seated he has rolling paper and a tin of tobacco out, and whips up a cigarette with the ease of long practice.
April smirks at the teenager, "Doubt it. Animals like that don't scare too easily. They're too used to people being around them." The pebble in the lads hand is eyed for a moment. "Don't you dare even think about tossing that at it."
"No ma'am," Flint responds, obediently, though there's still the defiant expression on his face. The pebble is dropped almost obediently, back onto the side of the path that it originally came from. A few steps are taken off the path and towards the tree, with a another shrug. "You look like you're prolly good 'nough at climbin' trees yourself," he adds, after a moment of pause.
Cigarette rolled, Tim watches the other two as he lights up. It's a sweet and fragrant smell, more akin to pipe tobacco than your usual light. He blows a smoke ring while he watches.
"I'm not climbing that tree." April replies dryly before looking down at herself. "Does it look like I'm dressed to climb up there?" Once the man on the bench lights up, the fragrant smell of the cigarette quickly reaches April, causing her scrunch up her nose at the smell.
A final shrug, and the backpack is taken off, held out until April takes it. "Don't let it get wet from the ground or anything." It's a request, but then there's an afterthought, and the teenager remembers to be polite, hands shoved into his pockets again. "Please don't let it get wet. Or run off with it, either." The ambivalent expression contorts into a grimace as he contemplates the possibility.
Tim continues to watch the little drama unfold before him, but now and then his attention drifts around them to watch cars on the street or people on the sidewalks. He goes through the cigarette in an unhurried manner.
April looks at Flint as if he's out of his mind for a moment before finally taking his bag from him. She holds it out away from herself as if it was dirty. "Come on now, up you go!" she motions with her other hand even as she gets distracted by that fragrance. Her gaze moving from tree to try and search out the smoker.
Tim is a dark, angular form on a gray park bench, easy to spot even in the walkway lights. He raises his cigarette to April in a salute, giving her a small, wry smile, and continues his visual patrol of the area in between glances at her and Flint.
In all fairness, the backpack is somewhat dirty, and old, like anything else that Flint actually owns. But Flint seems to be satisfied, and he reaches for the first branch, finding foothold after handhold. It is not fast going, but the climbing isn't a difficult thing for him, and when he makes it to an outlying branch he can sit on while seeing up further into the tree, there's the distinct sound of childish blowing a raspberry down at her. "There's nothing there," he says. "Absolutely nothing."
April raises a brow as she spies Tim before whipping her gaze quickly back around and up to face the raspberry blowing teenager in the tree. "I know you're not calling me a liar. Just because it's not up there now, doesn't mean it wasn't there when you started climbing. Not my fault you're so noisy that you scared it away."
One corner of Tim's mouth twitches in a suppressed smile. He is, pretty clearly, listening to the conversation. He blows another smoke ring, sending it out over the meadow, and gets up, ready to resume his walk.
"Riiiiight," comes the response, and this time as Flint climbs down there is no attempt to be quiet. Branches move and leaves rustle in the teenager's wake. It's obvious that he doesn't quite believe her, but there is an unwillingness to be less polite, even if there is some snark involved. As he jumps down to the ground, he grins, albeit a small grin, as he reclaims his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. "And you said they didn't scare easy, too."
"They don't, if you know what you're doing," April replies, her own bit of attitude added into her words. Her eyes glance up at the top of the tree again. "See, already it comes out of hiding now that it knows you're not in the tree," she points out, one hand motioning upwards before she turns her back towards both tree and teenager.
Tim's path along the walkway bring him by the tree and its two examiners. He makes sure to take a drag just then, tilting his head to peer into the tree as he does so.
Flint's attention is distracted from April, distracted from the tree and he turns, watching Tim as well. "Cut it out, would you?!" Every hint of the politeness that had been present when speaking to April is gone, and there is a confrontational tone as the teenager gestures to the cigarette. "Or at least give people some space to breathe, damn it." Then he turns again, back to Tim in order to face April and the tree. "Sorry," he says, more quietly.
April turns to face Tim as he comes nearby with that infernal fragrant cigarette. Her hands go to her hips as she eyes Tim. "You come to say I'm seeing things as well?" she asks the smoker.
Tim blinks slowly, first at Flint and then at April, looking more amused than anything else. To Flint, he says, "Sure thing, kid— who knows, maybe the second-hand smoke really will kill you, right?" He shifts a little downwind, saying to April, "Well since I've got no idea what the claim is you did or didn't see, I wouldn't presume."
Once more, the teenager shrugs, both at April and at Tim, though there's a nod of thanks, the defiance and confrontationalness both gone. "Never said you saw things, jus' that it wasn't actually there," he says. "There's a big difference. People that see things are crazy, and you don't seem crazy." Flint stares back up at the tree for a bit, confused. "Neither of you seem crazy," he adds. "Not like most people seem crazy."
Another pause, and he looks between April and Tim, and then back to April. "Hope you find your bird, ma'am," he adds, with a bit of a laugh. "I should get home, before my grandma or my mom realise I'm out this late."
April turns her attention away from Tim and fully back to Flint. "Oh, I'm crazy. As soon as you run along back home to your mommy I'm going to step right back over to that tree and start talking to it," she states with a straight face before grinning back at Tim as she looks to see his reaction to her words.
"Don't seem crazy?" Tim bursts out in a laugh that goes on long enough to make a person uncomfortable. He manages to calm himself, wheezing, "Right," as he catches his breath. "Well, I won't try too hard to change your opinion." He looks askance at April, his eyes trading mirth for shrewd curiosity.
"Don't seem crazy," Flint repeats, with a slow smile. "Honest to god and all that stuff, compared to everything else and the circumstances leading up to moving here, the two of you both seem perfectly…" a pause, as the boy tries to settle for an appropriate word. "Normal." With that said and done, the teenager pulls headphones out of the backpack, putting them on as he resumes his slow stroll back the way that he had originally came.
April certainly didn't expect for both of them to agree with her as might be judged by the look on her face. "I swear, men are some of the densest creatures on this planet." she grumps.
Tim watches Flint depart through the smoke of one last drag, then tosses the remains into a tin he produces from a jacket pocket. "Normal," he murmurs to himself, his tone almost bitter. He glances up at April as he restores the tin. "Dense? What, because we don't panic over someone wanting to chat up a tree?"
April motions towards the teenager that heads off listening to his music. "Because he doesn't even blink an eye at meeting someone strange in the middle of a park in the middle of the night and you just laugh as you watch us." She shakes her head. "I swear, people in this town are just plain crazy."
"Meeting people in the middle of the Park in the middle of the night's not that uncommon if you're a night owl and not afraid." Tim shrugs and moves to lean against said tree. "You were arguing over whether or not there really was something in the tree with a kid, it was funny. What can I say, maybe I'm just easily amused."
April narrows her eyes a little as Tim leans against the tree. "Well, there is something up there and it definitely wasn't happy with your smoking, nor the kid's poor attempt at climbing."
Something about Tim's attitude changes for just a minute, from amiable good humor to predatory caution. His expression doesn't change much, but what does speaks volumes, and he leans away from the tree, towards April, just a hair. "Smoking doesn't offend everything. Remember, it's that shit they sell in stores rolled up in packs that has all the nasty junk in it that's the real problem, not the stuff you roll yourself." He straightens and pushes off the tree. "And I bet I know this Park a lot better than you do."
April stands her ground though her eyes do drop from his face. "You might right now, but I'm sure I feel it's spirit a hell of a lot better than you do," she replies quietly.
Tim makes a low sound and replies, "I wouldn't bet on that," with a lazy smile as cool as the night air. His steps take him deeper into the Park, rather than out of it, towards the Fountain, and soon he's lost to immediate sight.
April looks back up as the man moves deeper into the park. "That's right, just walk away." she mutters as she waits for the man to be lost from sight. A moment later, she returns to the tree of interest, stepping up to rest a hand on the trunk. "Sorry they're such dicks."