Lorenz "I'm an 11" Hellman Gloucester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bergamotrose) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2020-02-10 09:51 pm
bergamotrose) wrote in middaeg2020-02-10 09:51 pm
[Open] February Catch-All | Pegasus Moon
Who: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester + Open (with potential closed starters as needed)
When: Full Moon and after
Where: Throughout Aefenglom
What: Lorenz finds himself facing the consequences of not having his priorities straight.
Warnings: Possible body horror. Will update as needed.
A
[It was a miscalculation.
That was what he would tell himself later, after the dust had settled. It was a miscalculation of a variety of factors that he had neither predicted nor given the appropriate weight in his planning. The first was finding others from his land with yet a different set of memories than the ones he had already encountered, and navigating the particular frustration of not being able to determine who among them was friend or foe. The second, Lapis Lazuli. The ferocity of the rage that boiled within her was far more intense than he had realized, and it was a disruption in the plans he was trying to pursue with her. As much as he wanted to trust her as an equal, for the moment that was impossible. The third...
Marianne.
In an ideal setting, they would have been of similar age and had met with the same trials. She would have faced the darkness inside her heart and made peace with it, and they could have moved forward. But she had arrived in this realm as she was five years prior-- seemingly fragile, certainly untempered, and as liable to shy away as she was to explode in her fear. That alone would have been enough to still Lorenz's own plans, but then she had been taken. Taken, and forced to endure an untold number of disrespects that she was still reluctant to speak of. She, among all of those in this realm from Fodlan, had faced the most trauma in Aefenglom.
And yet, she was the least able to accept the final verdict delivered by the judge.
Knowing all of this in his heart, Lorenz was faced with a singular certainty that she needed his protection. But, that certainty was coupled with the fact that he felt he could not interfere.
He itched to write something-- a poem. Anything. 'Amid time’s flow I mourn bonds I’m not sure I can ever rend...' It left an unsettled feeling in his fingers that crept up his arms and firmly clenched his swiftly beating heart in it's fist, binding him to it's will.
At least he had the foresight to lock the bedroom door. Stocked in his personal quarters were sundry items that he suspected he would need until dawn--
But, it wasn't enough.
The wave of pain that met his body as he caught a glimpse of the full moon slowly dawning over the horizon had him biting his tongue in shock. Hands clenched tightly upon the rails of his bed in a white knucked bid for support as his knees buckled beneath him, changing configuration into something wholly unfamiliar. His ears burned, his vision blurred--
Amid the disjointed thoughts that rolled in a tangle in his mind was one recurring thread: Marianne. He couldn't let Marianne see him like this.
He knew he shouldn't be alone. Yet, unbonded as he was, he had no choice.
Finding his footing, Lorenz took the only course he could think of: Flee. Throwing the window to his bedroom wide open, Lorenz leapt for the freedom of the night. The late winter chill of the wind helped him have a grip on his intention, kept his awareness sharp.
Thus, with an inhuman stillness he crept through the shadows of the city, intent on making it to his destination unimpeded: The Harbor.
The salty air at the docks, the frigid bite of the sea, would surely help.]
B
[It was a miscalculation, yet here he was.
Lorenz sat on the edge of the dock, wrapped in a blanket he had procured from parts unknown while his unfamiliar feet dangled in the empty space wrought by low tide. His silken hair hung in his face and clung to the ears that now twitched in the cold breeze, tangled with muck and dirt that Lorenz was too hesitant to attempt to define. Uncomfortable and exhausted, Lorenz squinted out over the crisp horizon while he attempted to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest and the distinct knowledge that he was certain his flight from Haven had not been as clean as he had wished.
People had seen him. They had to. If they hadn't, they surely would in the near future.
Huffing irritably, Lorenz idly picked at the delicate swatches of velvet that were now hanging from his antlers.]
This must make quite a sight,
[He mused darkly, bitterly. After spending so much time keeping his appearances in a perfectly coiffed illusion of grandeur, Lorenz knew there was no coming back from this.]
When: Full Moon and after
Where: Throughout Aefenglom
What: Lorenz finds himself facing the consequences of not having his priorities straight.
Warnings: Possible body horror. Will update as needed.
A
[It was a miscalculation.
That was what he would tell himself later, after the dust had settled. It was a miscalculation of a variety of factors that he had neither predicted nor given the appropriate weight in his planning. The first was finding others from his land with yet a different set of memories than the ones he had already encountered, and navigating the particular frustration of not being able to determine who among them was friend or foe. The second, Lapis Lazuli. The ferocity of the rage that boiled within her was far more intense than he had realized, and it was a disruption in the plans he was trying to pursue with her. As much as he wanted to trust her as an equal, for the moment that was impossible. The third...
Marianne.
In an ideal setting, they would have been of similar age and had met with the same trials. She would have faced the darkness inside her heart and made peace with it, and they could have moved forward. But she had arrived in this realm as she was five years prior-- seemingly fragile, certainly untempered, and as liable to shy away as she was to explode in her fear. That alone would have been enough to still Lorenz's own plans, but then she had been taken. Taken, and forced to endure an untold number of disrespects that she was still reluctant to speak of. She, among all of those in this realm from Fodlan, had faced the most trauma in Aefenglom.
And yet, she was the least able to accept the final verdict delivered by the judge.
Knowing all of this in his heart, Lorenz was faced with a singular certainty that she needed his protection. But, that certainty was coupled with the fact that he felt he could not interfere.
He itched to write something-- a poem. Anything. 'Amid time’s flow I mourn bonds I’m not sure I can ever rend...' It left an unsettled feeling in his fingers that crept up his arms and firmly clenched his swiftly beating heart in it's fist, binding him to it's will.
At least he had the foresight to lock the bedroom door. Stocked in his personal quarters were sundry items that he suspected he would need until dawn--
But, it wasn't enough.
The wave of pain that met his body as he caught a glimpse of the full moon slowly dawning over the horizon had him biting his tongue in shock. Hands clenched tightly upon the rails of his bed in a white knucked bid for support as his knees buckled beneath him, changing configuration into something wholly unfamiliar. His ears burned, his vision blurred--
Amid the disjointed thoughts that rolled in a tangle in his mind was one recurring thread: Marianne. He couldn't let Marianne see him like this.
He knew he shouldn't be alone. Yet, unbonded as he was, he had no choice.
Finding his footing, Lorenz took the only course he could think of: Flee. Throwing the window to his bedroom wide open, Lorenz leapt for the freedom of the night. The late winter chill of the wind helped him have a grip on his intention, kept his awareness sharp.
Thus, with an inhuman stillness he crept through the shadows of the city, intent on making it to his destination unimpeded: The Harbor.
The salty air at the docks, the frigid bite of the sea, would surely help.]
B
[It was a miscalculation, yet here he was.
Lorenz sat on the edge of the dock, wrapped in a blanket he had procured from parts unknown while his unfamiliar feet dangled in the empty space wrought by low tide. His silken hair hung in his face and clung to the ears that now twitched in the cold breeze, tangled with muck and dirt that Lorenz was too hesitant to attempt to define. Uncomfortable and exhausted, Lorenz squinted out over the crisp horizon while he attempted to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest and the distinct knowledge that he was certain his flight from Haven had not been as clean as he had wished.
People had seen him. They had to. If they hadn't, they surely would in the near future.
Huffing irritably, Lorenz idly picked at the delicate swatches of velvet that were now hanging from his antlers.]
This must make quite a sight,
[He mused darkly, bitterly. After spending so much time keeping his appearances in a perfectly coiffed illusion of grandeur, Lorenz knew there was no coming back from this.]
no subject
[Faith wasn't for the sacrilegious. And certainly not him, someone that toed the line of the outright profane. Hubert lifts a hand, hovering it before a bloodied tine. The Blood there begins to glimmer and form into mist.]
I've told you before I am not a man of good will. What I do now, I do to protect Her Majesty's interests.
[Just as he always protests. The mist pools besides them on the docks, forming (slowly, more slowly than he'd like) into the shape of a horse. A small horse; with the state Lorenz is in, he probably wouldn't be able to hop up on a regular one.]
If your own feet cannot carry you now, something else will have to do.
no subject
Trust.
It was trusting that which you didn't understand in that moment, and about trusting someone to make the correct call-- even if it wasn't the call that was expected.
Drawing in a breath, Lorenz found himself watching, waiting for the conjured mist to coalesce into shape and solidify in form. It was the first time he had been granted the priviledge of seeing Hubert work up close; pity that the circumstances couldn't have been better.]
...That looks sufficient.
[He said quietly, unsteadily reaching out to touch the beast. The shortened height certainly made matters easier.
--Despite himself, he laughed.]
This is an awful pattern, [he uttered with wry, bitter humor.] It seems you keep accomplishing feats that I cannot yet thank you for.
no subject
[There's just a ghost of an inflection to Hubert's voice--he sounded more satisfied that he probably ought to, when talking about someone's debts. The tall mage steps back a few paces slowly.]
The conjuration will not last long, this night. Waste time at your own risk.
no subject
You've my thanks. I'll find a way to repay you, somehow.
[He had only fled to the docks because he didn't wish to be seen in this state of physical and emotional disarray by the people he knew in his day to day life. Though he had accepted certain inevitabilities, the loss of control he had faced was unacceptable to his own standards.
Hubert's discretion, as it were, was welcome.
Though Lorenz was far from certain how much he would recall once the sun rose once again, he would do his utmost to recall this instance.
Debts were debts, however they were gained. In time, rendering payment was inevitable.]