and it's hard to dance with a devil on your back

It was easier not to speak to people, these days, so Loren was making himself scarce. It was simple enough: given how much of the world was now available to him, and how well he knew how to hide after his year of doing so, he barely had to see anyone, let alone speak to a single soul. The unnervingly blank look on his face was enough to deter those few he did encounter. He’d slowly but surely been gathering what few belongings actually mattered. Although he didn’t care about them—didn’t care about anything, really—some of them had information that he’d rather not fall into anyone else’s hands, now that he’d retreated from the world once more. So he was walking through the Hollowed Grounds at night, the only light from the moon, the stars, and the soft glow of Astra’s antler. Studiously, he ignored the worried feeling he could feel from her, the concerned eyes she looked at him with, the periodic anxious bleat. Instead, he just walked confidently through the streets, heading for the familiar dome of the Atheneum. Pushing open the doors, he navigated through the stacks in mostly darkness and in silence, until he came to the entrance to the Loreseekers. Heading down the steps, he opened the door to the hall. Not even glancing around, he made a beeline for one of the private reading ones, where he’d stashed his notes. Slipping the bag off his back, he started stuffing the books almost carelessly inside. Once done, he threw it back over his shoulder, and stalked out to the main area once more. Samuel LOREN Not quite an open book

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

Sam was sat in the guild hall, trying to purposefully get lost in his work so that he wouldn't have to exist in the air surrounding him. The world had not been kind in the last few days and he was done with it; just wanted the familiar ink and paper smell, the simple problems of ripped edges and smudged lines. Things that could be solved, that wouldn't yell at him or betray him or break his heart--

He was focusing on his work. He was fine, and he was focusing on his work.

When Loren first came down he ignored him, assuming him just to be coming in to work or look for something. He knew the man was a member of their guild, that he hung around the Atheneum (Sam still felt guilty for how he and Wessex had excluded him before, but that was lost underneath everything else at the moment), so he did not think his presence unusual.

It was only when Loren came back through, carrying a large bulky bag, that Sam noticed something was amiss. He looked up, pen paused mid-air. "Are you going somewhere? That's...a lot of books." He commented, wondering if Jigano knew Loren was taking all of them.

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Loren had seen Samuel, but had ignored the redhead in the hopes that the summoner would be able to escape. No such luck: he paused as the other man spoke to the Launceleyn. He stared directly at the Ascended, gaze nearly unblinking. "Everyone's going somewhere." The words came out without any particular inflection. As the bag grew heavy, Loren lifted his hand to shift the weight on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. As he did, he continued to look blankly at Samuel. "They're my personal notes. Why do you care?" Though the tone was slightly sharp, there wasn't any heat. Instead, the summoner's voice was practically monotone. LOREN Not quite an open book

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

When Loren paused to look at him, Sam noticed that something was wrong in the man's eyes. They were....flat. A flatness he recognised, actually, an emotion that had called to him many times in the last few evenings when he'd realised just how lonely his bed had felt with one empty half.

"Oh, I don't mind...I just..." He considered letting it go, just dismissing Loren and continuing with his notes; somehow Sam could not shake the feeling he was going to regret not asking more. With a sigh he looked up and tilted his head, gently asking: "Are you alright? You don't look well." Perhaps it was an awkward thing to say to a stranger, but it was true and he felt like someone else's misery might be a good distraction from his own.

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

When Samuel revealed that he didn't mind the retrieval of tomes and that he wasn’t going to do anything to stop Loren, he started walking forward again, heading towards the stairs. Astra gave the Ascended a wide berth, given that she disliked his kind. However, the summoner and the luxere were barely past the redhead when the other man's words stopped the Launceleyn in his tracks. Turning, he stared at Samuel, eyes still dull and expression still blank. "You seem to have answered your own question." Loren's voice came out in that same flat tone, not mean, not blunt, just empty. His companion let out an anxious bleat and backed away. LOREN Not quite an open book

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

Loren really did seem to be in a bad way, from how he stopped and replied still so monotone, so flat, as if he were halfway in a dream.

"I...suppose so." He conceded, and once again considered leaving the conversation, letting Loren get away (as his companion clearly seemed to want to). Though he felt one last try to get the man to open up couldn't hurt and might lead to a closer relationship. He was certainly lacking in friends.

"You know...if you wanted to talk about it...I'd listen. I know I'm a stranger, but we're both Loreseekers, and...well. I've had a terrible week. I might understand." He gestured to the chair opposite himself, then looked back to the tea caddy behind him. "I could make you a drink, too. Sometimes I find a cup of tea can be very comforting."

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Seeing as this conversation was apparently going to last at least a little bit longer, Loren lowered the heavy pack to the ground. "I don't." The words were not mean, but they were designed to shut the discussion down as quickly as possible. "Let me make one thing very clear. You're right, you're a stranger. We're not friends, nor do I have any particular desire to open up to you or anyone else." Despite the harsh words, there wasn't anything cruel about the Launceleyn's tone. Wasn't anything to his tone at all, really. Astra pressed himself against his back, but he didn't react. "So unless you can resurrect the dead, I don't want anything from you. Not tea, not comfort, nothing." He tilted his head. "But by all means, tell me about your rough week." Again, there was no real interest in the statement, no flicker of life in the Launceleyn's eyes. LOREN Not quite an open book

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

Loren said he did not want to speak, but he placed down his pack. That meant he probably intended to stay at least for a little, right...? Though the words that followed, more flat rejection...Sam found it hard to gauge just how genuine Loren's request to know about his week was. Still, he'd give an answer, if only in the hopes it'd encourage Loren to share his woes.

"Well, I...found Remi, in Torchline." He was aware Loren had history with the Alchemist, so he assumed he probably was up to date with the latest happenings in his life. "He was very cold to me. He's grieving, so I suppose there is a certain amount I could understand, but then he actually tried to kill me, after punching my face so much I was virtually unrecognisable." Sam sighed, touching his nose where the break had been. "...I was very glad I couldn't feel the pain."

He took a breath and looked to Loren, unsure if he should continue, but he had already begun and it wasn't clear just how awful a time he'd had until he included the next part. "When I got home, I discovered my boyfriend cheated on me. So I told him to leave my house...but now it feels so empty."

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Loren's reaction to Samuel's explanation was entirely inscrutable, and almost entirely nonexistent. ”I see.” Unsurprisingly, the words came out much the same as they had during this entire conversation, in an emotionless near drone. "I saw Remi too. Of course the last time I saw him, he tried to kill himself in my arms, so I can't say I'm surprised by his change in demeanor." The replies fell far too easily from the Launceleyn's lips, considering the subject matter. Still, he made no move to walk closer to the redhead, to sit, to do anything but stand there and stare. "And earlier this week, the man I loved burned to death while I stood right next to him. And that's just this week." For a brief moment, his eyes filled with a weary exhaustion and a lifetime of sorrow, before it drained out of him as quickly and unexpectedly as it had appeared. LOREN Not quite an open book

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

"...Oh." Sam thought he had been the first to find Remi in Torchline, the only one so far that had been to the beach; apparently not. Hearing that the Alchemist had tried to kill himself, though...it opened up a new kind of sadness within him, one that actually gave him more empathy for the rest of how Remi had acted. He at least understood suicidality, knew the way it felt, how it could make you act.

He also knew it would pass, if you made it through. Hopefully the same could happen for Remi.

Of course, no news matched up to what Loren had to say next, which left Sam with his mouth partially open, eyes mortified and alarmed. He had whined about his relationship woes when Loren had suffered such a horrible, recent loss - he hardly knew what to say. Sam had heard of the fire in the Greatwood, heard even that a man had died, but he hadn't recognised the name.

"I...I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Are you...sure you don't want to sit down for a while? When something so horrible happens it can be good to stop and just..breathe, for a moment. I wonder if that's why Remi is quite so wound up, if he hasn't let himself process it." Sam chewed on his lip, frowning - he was unsure about this analysis (or if it would seem callous to bring it up) but he'd said it now.

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Loren continued to stare almost blankly at Samuel. "No reason for you to know. As you said, we're strangers." The words were flat, though for the briefest of moments the summoner's gaze grew distant and sorrowful. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light, as in the next moment he was back to the expressionless look. "Don't worry about me. I've lost everyone I ever loved, so I'm used to it by now." Shockingly, the statement came out as easily as everything else he'd said so far. It was only because Astra nudged him forward and he knew it was easier to give in to her demands that he finally took a seat. However, he didn't look relaxed. Quite the opposite: he sat, ramrod straight, hands clasped in his lap. "Or maybe his anger is how he is choosing to process it, and we have no right to judge him for his reaction." Again, there was no judgment in the assessment. LOREN Not quite an open book

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

Loren once again repeated that they were strangers and Sam only nodded, awkwardly looking off to the side. He'd never considered himself to be socially proficient, but he'd like to have thought he was better at handling conversations, at least good enough that someone wouldn't need to repeat their lack of friendship every moment. Perhaps, he tried to console himself, it was more to do with Loren's grief than any failing of his own.

"...That...makes it more worrying, surely? Do you have anyone around to support you? ...Do..you..." Sam paused, not sure if it was wise to ask this (it had certainly gotten him into trouble with Remi): "Want to talk about him?"

That Loren sat down was a good sign, at least. Sam turned his chair a little towards him, nodding slowly at the words. It was similar to what Rexanna had said, even if she had put it much more gently. "Yes...I know you knew him before he was here, so you must know him well. Do you think he will...go back to normal, eventually?"

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Eyes still boring into Samuel's own, Loren lifted his arms to rest them on the table. "Why is that worrisome?" Astra curled up by his feet, trying to provide what comfort she could, but it failed to reach him. Instead, that blank look stayed on his face. "Support me how? Tell me it's normal to feel this way, that it's okay to grieve, that I'll feel better one day, that the pain will fade?" He shrugged almost imperceptibly. "Like I said, I've lost a lot of people. I've heard it all before." Leaning forward slightly, he dropped his voice to an exhausted whisper. "It never fades." The words weren't sad or pained, just softly spoken. He leaned back again at the redhead's offer to let the Launceleyn speak. "What is there to talk about? He's gone, and you didn't know him." There was no accusation there, just a statement of fact. Indeed, he didn't blame anyone for Abasi's death, or the few people who seemed to know or care about it, and their relationship. It was just what Loren's life was at this point. Tilting his head, he considered the other man for a long moment. "What makes you think the Remi you knew was the normal one? What even is normal?" There was little interest or curiosity behind the questions. LOREN Not quite an open book

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

"Well...I just...it sounds like you'd be lonely." Sam thought it was really rather obvious. If he were in Loren's position, he would have actually been quite hurt had no one been worrying about him, especially as it sounded he was painfully used to loss.. "It...never fades at all?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing together. He'd found his own grief for his old tutor had eventually calmed down to a more background hum, only noticeable when he was reminded of it. That said, he'd never lost a lover, at least not to death.

He tried not to let the brusque nature of Loren's words get to him. They didn't seem to be spoken with a venom like Remi's had been, just said by a man who no longer had any patience for niceties. "No, I didn't but...some people like to remember who they've lost and tell people about them. It can help. I suppose because you feel like you're...continuing his memory." Sam had not told very many people about his tutor (especially not after the incident in the Spire), so he wasn't really sure of the validity of this, but it was something he'd heard a few times before.

At the question of which Remi was normal...he paused before he spoke, finger slowly circling around a knot in the wood table. "Well, ever since I knew him, he's been kind and gentle...sweet. And I've known him for quite a long time now - it seems unlikely he's been putting on an act the entire time, right?"

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?