[open] I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions

[silky_bearing]

Who: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.... and anyone willing to deal with him
Where: Mostly Vermillion and... Around?
When: Jan+
Summary: Catchall for arrival and sorting out what the heck is going on here
Rating: R - likely talk of violence, war, possibly blood experiments, genocide, etc. Fun Femblem themes
Log:


Around Town

Lorenz can be found exploring the city in... well just about everywhere, really. There is so much here that is new and novel for him. Electricity, indoor plumbing, never mind the pokémon aspect of it. The technology is so advanced and Lorenz is precisely the type of stuffy no-nonsense person to legitimately sit down and read through instruction manuals.

Whether it's staring at the drink menu of a café in wonder or sitting down somewhere to read through the Breeder's Guide that was in his bag (sometimes even the Gear manual) every other thing seems to have him stopping to watch how things unfold. He tries his best to be polite, to not stare outright, but even at his best there is only so much he can do. when dealing with so many new things. So it's hardly surprising when he eventually catches your eye, looking absolutely flabbergasted.

"Is this.... ah- common here?"

Toge what now?

The arrival of the togepi swarm is his first encounter with wild pokémon intruding on urban spaces and at first he is a bit terrified to move lest he ens up tripping over the little things that seem to be everywhere. "Certainly a new meaning to the phrase walking on eggshells." murmured to himself with a faint smirk of amusement.

But then the skitty he got from the nice lady in New Bark Town is pouncing out from under his chair and onto the nearest little yellow orb and Lorenz is suddenly scrambling after him with a shout of protest.

"Mister Whiskers!!" Oh no. He doesn't want to let this little pink furball hurt the poor thing.

Someone... might want to help him out with this whole "battle" thing.

Femblemtroika House

There's so much to take in that he's reeling with the volume of information very quickly. So many people that he knows but in no meaningful way and the one he does has been here so long and there has been such distance between them that he feels as though he needs to learn him all over again.

It doesn't help him feel any less unmoored than he already does.

He finds himself returning to a seat near a window that overlooks the yard, a cup of tea cradled in his hands, Mister Whiskers slinking up onto the arm or back of the couch, moving with the sun. If left to his own devices Lorenz will spend much of the first few days nursing too much tea, staring into the middle distance, caught up in whatever strange turns his mind is taking. Sometimes a small leatherbound journal will appear from a pocket as well as a delicate glass dip pen. Though his mind seems to wander away from him and there are bold ink spots on both the page and his fingers before long.

Inevitably, when someone passes through the room, he looks up, seeming startled to find someone else nearby every time and though he is always polite, offering a greeting and asking after their wellbeing, there's something distinctly off putting about his response. A tension whenever he sees someone, something almost skittish in the way he holds himself, the way his grip tightens on his pen or his cup trembles ever so slightly.

He can hardly recall the last time he saw so many different people so often and so many of the faces here were far from welcoming when last he saw them.

Comments

[silky_bearing]

[The trouble with getting his ass handed to him by a bird is the fact that Lorenz is, surprisingly delicate given the speed with he had reacted as though accustomed to battle. Which leaves him flat on his ass in the middle of the sidewalk, brushing gravel out of the scrape on his forearm and scowling up at Sandalphon.

For a long moment he simply glares daggers at the man, lips pressed into a hard line as he tries to weigh out whether it's worth the risk to continue to speak to someone so clearly unhinged. Attacking a man for disagreeing with a preferred drink? He would expect as much from Hubert but Hubert was a monster in his own right and nearly as petty as Lorenz himself.

He's furious, absolutely shaking with it... but more than that he's embarrassed. Weak and alone and unable to defend himself. He has no skill in brawling and hasn't the constitution for it even if he were so inclined. Most of all, though, and this is the thing he hates himself for most.

He's afraid.

It feels like he's spent so much time now hiding and hesitating and waiting for the one wrong move that will bring everything in a fragile glass house crashing down around him. Walking on eggshells with his Father, his guests, hiding from those monsters that pretend to be men. Flames, it's been more than a year since he was able to go into a city, to be around other people and to be thrown so swiftly back into that same horrible state, fear creeping into everything just as pervasive as the rot spread by those that caused it.

For something so inconsequential.

But he doesn't speak and he hates himself for that too, that he does not have the strength to rail against such madness and injustice. Goddess, he truly is just as craven as his father, isn't he?

So, after a long moment, he climbs to his feet, still shaking with emotion, coiled taut as bowstring. What he tries to do is turn on his heel and march away, to act as though he's above such petty grievances. But there's a slight limp in his step and the tension in his shoulders makes it clear he expects another blow any moment.... and there isn't a goddess damned thing he could do about it.]

[dejabrewed]

[ he was used to hateful eyes on him. lorenz' glare meant nothing to him, and he indicated as such through his statue-like stare. he could hate him all he wants-- the angel could move on.

but the silence was telling, and sandalphon had a moment to calm down and pay attention to what he was doing. he knew his emotions could cloud his judgement, and it looks like this was one of those times. his anger cracked as he realized what he had done. as the stranger stood up, clearly injured and not at all okay, guilt started crashing into him.

astrals, he was reverting to his old self. he promised himself to be better, to grow from that experience. what was he doing?

he made his staraptor retreat back into its pokéball as the stranger turned away, clearly trying to hold himself together. and that made sandalphon feel even worse. he debated even trying to help, knowing that emotions were running on high, especially now. ignoring the more self-destructive side of himself, he calls out to him as he walks up. if the assault is returned, fine, but at least he tried. ]

Hold on. Let me at least show you to the nearest hospital.

[silky_bearing]

[It is probably more telling than he would ever admit but he flinches at the sound of footsteps approaching him. He turns sharply, too sharply when he's twisted his ankle as he has but he clenches his jaw against the pain and keeps his feet. But he also withdraws into himself as much as he can, cradling his bloody, scraped up arm giving the other man a look. Something caught between disgust and the kind of bone deep fear that speaks of far too long being afraid to know how to be anything else.

Violet eyes glossy, though he will never admit it, he shakes his head, voice strained.]

Stay away from me.

[And he's going to simply try to walk away again.]

[dejabrewed]

[ he does as asked, face unflinching. it's only when the stranger turns back round does he let his emotions show. that's fair. he's not about to chase someone who didn't want his apologies, but sometimes, it hurts.

it was only after the stranger was out of sight that sandalphon bothered to move. where? he didn't care. he just wanted to get out of sight. ]