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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

So... absolutely everything about this is reinforcing Grant's suspicion that this guy seriously needs help, even without much in the way of context.

"Oh-- no, man, you're not in trouble, I was just curious. I don't think anyone's gonna mind, long as you let us know if we're getting low on something."

"You've all already let me impose quite enough. The least I can do is restore your tea stocks." A rebuttal, though he tries to keep it gentle. Whether Grant allows it or not there will be fresh boxes of tea in the cabinet in the next day or two. For the moment though Lorenz still seems a bit unfocused, though he frowns when a flash of bright pink catches his eye.

"Mister Whiskers, he doesn't want to pet you." Except surely he does! Have a skitty rubbing against your leg for affection, Grant. Dad sure isn't paying any attention to him. Rude.

"You really don't have to, though..." Grant can tell, however, that this is... not an argument he's gonna win. Nor is he really interested in turning it into an argument to begin with, honestly.

When the Skitty starts looking for attention, though, he can't help a soft snort as he stoops down to let it smell his hand. ~~Boy is he glad that cats don't get upset at his smell anymore.~~ "It's alright - I mean, as long as I'm allowed to, that is."

~~Lbr Mister Whiskers would be convinced he could take him either way~~

"Oh, of course." Why in heavens wouldn't he be allowed to? "But he may never stop bothering you once you start."

He's been doing his best to keep himself and his pokémon out of the way. That is precisely why "Ginger" is still in her pokéball.

Just because Grant can't find any apparent reason for someone to take issue with something he does doesn't mean he can be sure they won't. Better safe than sorry.

"That's fine; he's far from the only needy Pokemon around here." Aaand once it seems Mister Whiskers has gotten a good sniff, he sets about giving those scritches.

Lorenz offers Grant a look that.... is, perhaps, intended to be a smile but it is strained and doesn't quite overcome the weight in his gaze.

"Thank you... for allowing me to intrude upon your hospitality these past few days. It is greatly appreciated." He honestly doesn't know what to say other than the same polite niceties he always falls back on. "I'm not entirely sure what I would do with myself if you hadn't agreed."

Oof, that's a look Grant recognizes. Not on Lorenz specifically, obviously, but... look, he knows an awful lot of depressed people with intense people-pleasing impulses, including himself.

"You were invited, man; it's not an intrusion. None of us wants someone getting stuck here with nowhere to go."

After what Claude had told them all, an outright "no" wasn't really an option, even if some were still inclined to brace for trouble.

Depressed people with intense people-pleasing impulses isn't a category Lorenz would put himself in but it's hardly inaccurate.

He nods a little at the reassurance, absently sipping cold tea. "That is because you are all good people. Nothing less than I'd expect from Claude. He has something of a talent for bringing out the best in people."

Ah. There's a real smile. Small and soft but there nonetheless. At least until Lorenz looks up from his tea to Grant again, looking a bit sheepish. "Not that I'm trying to imply any of you needed him for that precisely-" Lorenz shakes his head, pressing his face into his hand to hide the worst of how he's gone and flustered himself now. How rude. He really needs to consider his words more carefully.

"My apologies."

Oh, hey, another kind of look that Grant recognizes. Hmm.

Well, moving right on from any really gay facial expressions: "Oh, no, I know what you mean - and it's true. Everyone here is good people, but Claude does have a way of magnifying that."

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

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