.

erren florent. 32. personal assistant to minister of defense, wild card, professional escape artist.

[jamesbadgedaled-blog]

[x]

[baratheonshireen-blog]

you told me to run from visions of grandeur // shireen & erren // september 21st

[baratheonshireen-blog]

It was surprisingly peaceful, sitting outside the door and just taking deep breaths, calm despite the distant car engines and the fumes that would no doubt be ‘detrimental for her health’. Shireen thought it was a load of bull, especially since she painted without much problem. Of course, sometimes she got a little choked up afterwards, throat closing in and blocking her air passage, but it wasn’t something serious. Sitting outside was better than being inside, even if the inside of No.10 was rather beautiful. It had an odd sense of busyness even if the room she was in was perfectly still and Shireen didn’t like that. 

Sighing softly, she glanced up just in time to catch her uncle’s car driving down the street and she forced herself to push away all thoughts of a white door with painted flowers on it, getting up and brushing the dirt away from her tights before putting on a grin. “Uncle!” She always thought that Uncle Erren was cool. He could drive after all and sometimes he used those shades that made him look like a fly. Of course, she never told him that. Bouncing over to the other side of the car, she opened the door and beamed at him, sliding into the seat without much trouble.

“I didn’t tell Mother I was coming with you, she might just call you up to give you a scolding.” she said promptly, unconsciously checking her hair in the rear view mirror. “Or she might send a guard with us and that’s just icky.” Shireen glanced over at him, lips pursed out slightly. “Can you teach me how to drive?” she asked suddenly, as the car began to move. 

[errenflorent-blog]

"I knew you were trouble when you walked in," Erren quoted somberly, shaking his head, before grinning and reaching over to give his niece and quick hug. He'd figured Selyse wouldn't have been informed about this little getaway -- a fact which reinforced the "getaway" aspect of the event -- and was already fully prepared to face the consequences. He had grown up under the mostly disapproving eye of his strict, older sister, after all. He was accustomed to and (for the most part) unafraid of her wrath by now. Besides, it was only a very small adventure. It wasn't as though he were taking Shireen to the pub and then for skydiving, tattoos, and a night of gambling afterward. A pet store was actually quite innocent compared to the trouble he had gotten up to when he were her age.

"My phone's on silent," he said with a small smile as he shifted gears and adjusted the rear-view mirror, "I'd hate to miss an important call from her, but I simply can't remember how to turn the sound back on..." He knew he'd have to deal with it later, and with the work he missed, but right now he was planning on shrugging it off. Her question took him a bit off guard though, and he thought about it for a split second before coming to his senses. He did have some senses. "'Ey -- one minor offense at a time, tadpole," he replied. "I'm not looking to be killed." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "One day, though. Maybe."

As they began to drive along Erren briefly considered asking Shireen about how school was going before remembering what a fucking terrible question that was, mentally rolling his eyes at himself. He was getting old. He was getting old. It made him cringe. "How's the painting going?" he asked instead, knowing she had an interest in and talent for it. "When do I get to see your work, huh?"

[baratheon-selyse]

i'm damaged raw can't you see | erren & selyse | october 1996

[baratheon-selyse]

Selyse looked at her brother, trying to find signs that he would collapse on the floor like the drunken mess that he was, but thankfully found none. Little by little he seemed to wash away the alcohol from his system – Erren was standing in a more straight way and it looked capable of digesting another cup of coffee. However if he expected her to laugh or even smile at the thought of Shireen looking at her youngest uncle and knowing exactly what not to do, he was deeply wrong (still, it was true). “I expect you to behave your absolute best near her, you know. Tomorrow and always.” Selyse wanted to have a family of her own ever since she was a child, even more after her father died, but she obviously couldn’t say the same for Erren.

It took all the strength in her not to roll her eyes and say stop being so childish when Erren said she hadn’t asked about him. It seemed very little to ask, if he was enjoying Eton he wouldn’t have run away to London, get drunk and end up on her doorstep. There was a big age difference between them, eleven years that sometimes felt like even more, and as a result, they were always in extremely different life stages. That didn’t happen so much between the boys since Imry and Erren were quite close in age, but the age gap between Selyse and her brothers always made them distant. “How have you been, then? Really.” She wouldn’t ask him about London because Erren had no right to be here in the first place, but she was curious as to how he was doing in Eton. “Don’t you like your school? Is that why you had your little adventure? Or is there any other reason”

She bit her lip before asking one more thing. “Have you talked to mum recently?” Exeter wasn’t that close to London and it wasn’t always that Selyse could spare a day and visit their mother.

[errenflorent-blog]

He would! He would behave his very, very, absolute, utmost best around Shireen. He would take extra special care to do so. Unfortunately, no one could be entirely sure what that meant. What was Erren Florent's utmost best? How long could he possibly sit still before he burst -- before he truly couldn't take it any longer -- before he had to cause some sort of damage (reparable, of course, always reparable, but damage nonetheless)? Still. Erren made a mental note as he sobered up a bit. Behave very exceptionally well around Shireen. Great. Good. That was that, then.

"What's to like," he mumbled, taking another long sip of coffee. Truth be told, it wasn't so much the schoolwork that got on his nerves; there were even classes Erren enjoyed. He was quite fond of his literature courses (though he could have skipped the rest -- mathematics and whatnot -- and most of the time, literally did); he just didn't understand why he had to physically show up for them. "I could very easily just take my books and hop on the train and have a very nice picnic with Shakespeare and Milton at Regents, you know. I don't have to be in a stuffy classroom all day to understand tragedy," he said. It's not like anyone particularly cared what he did or where he went; it's just that there were rules to be followed, and they cared about the rules. Not him. He didn't expect Selyse to understand, however, and he didn't know where to begin explaining. She had always been the perfect student -- paving the perfect path for herself. She had always done the right thing. And Imry was another sort of impossible.

Erren couldn't help narrowing his eyes a bit at the mention of their mother, though he wasn't sure whether or not Selyse would notice. She didn't care either way about anything, and it was truthfully Selyse who had acted more as a mother to Erren over the years than she had. "Oh, yes!" he said, smiling fakely. "She had a headache. We discussed it for some time. Fascinating."

[baratheonshireen-blog]

you told me to run from visions of grandeur // shireen & erren // september 21st

Shireen considered herself quite close to the members of her family, her cousins in particular. She didn’t spend much time with her uncles, but Uncle Erren was an exception, of course. He was much younger (though there was also Uncle Renly. He was just uncle before, but was he enemy now? She would have to ask her father) and he understood her teenager perils better than her mother. Uncle Erren was altogether much cooler than most adults, so Shireen considered him to be amongst the close group of family members that she avidly messaged with silly questions or general inquiries. 

Perhaps that was why she felt so comfortable with hinting (subtly. With her luck, he probably didn’t even notice. She hoped he did) at getting a pet. She knew that her mother would never agree, but Uncle Erren didn’t always do what her mother told him to do and Shireen was an adult now. She knew what was good for her, and having a pet would help her ease back into her old life; the one where not everyone was an enemy, just the shady people and where friends were easier to make and easier to keep.

Picking at her chipped nail polish, she considered bringing a bottle with her, just so she could do her nails in Uncle Erren’s car, but she wasn’t sure if he even liked the smell or wanted it in his car. Besides, she wasn’t an expert on doing her nails and her left hand was still a bit shaky during application. Rubbing her nose, she opened the front door of No.10 slowly, feeling a little bit awkward when more than a few eyes turned to look at her. Sighing softly, she decided to wait on the steps of No.10, just so it was be easier for her uncle to find her.

[errenflorent-blog]

Being that he was both utterly irresponsible and wholly uninterested in his work, there was really nothing on earth Erren welcomed quite like an opportunity to sneak out of the office and rescue a fellow captive of boredom. Deep down, he knew that if he spent half the time that he spent glaring at his computer screen complaining about all the work he had to do actually doing the work he had to do, he might actually get something done -- but then all the fun of being an adult would fly right out the window. (The fact of the matter was -- Erren hadn't the slightest idea what being an adult was. So here we were.)

Moreso than his obsessive need to procrastinate of course, Erren felt it was his god-given duty and right, as an uncle, as the best uncle ever, to do this for Shireen -- to pluck her from the confines of those four oppressive walls (she was probably trapped in there with pages upon pages of homework, poor soul) -- and bring her to a place where she didn't have to worry about geometry or physics or whatever. And, besides -- Erren genuinely adored his niece. Plain and simple.

He lazily flipped through the radio stations with one hand, the other resting on the steering wheel, as he made his way to No. 10 -- enjoying taking half the day off already. Erren knew he shouldn't shirk his duties like this, whenever he wanted to, but then again, there had never really been consequences for him -- and Shireen deserved a break every once in a while, too. So he shrugged it off as he pulled up across the street of No. 10, rolling down the window to wave.

[baratheonshireen-blog]

text message → erren (september 21st)

[baratheonshireen-blog]

Message :that was fast

Message : good, i’m glad i’m not in the ‘worst enemy’ category

Message : can we go to a pet store? i wanna play with the puppies! :33

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: thinking on your feet is what being an adult is all about, tadpole txt: don't even suggest such a thing txt: be ready in half an hour :)

[seaworthd]

text (dale & erren) | sept 1st

[seaworthd]

txt: i don’t cry txt: i do fuck up assholes who don’t know how to shut up though

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: right-o txt: listen you enjoy your drab job and your drab life some more, i'll be in... ibiza? portoferraio maybe? txt: let me know if you ever stop crying, maybe we can have a drink xo

[baratheon-selyse]

i'm damaged raw can't you see | erren & selyse | october 1996

[baratheon-selyse]

“All the same, really. The doctors say she’s still too small to have a transplant, so all they can do now is try to control with pills and wait.” That was all there, some pills that were supposed to save Shireen’s life until she was big enough to receive a new heart, whatever the doctors considered to be ‘big enough’, Selyse only prayed it wouldn’t be long from now. Looking at her brother, she couldn’t help but to wonder how he would behave around Shireen when she was older. Rather well, she hoped, and preferably not ever daring to act the way he was now. “You can see her in the morning, if you want to,” Selyse said, more softly this time. “She’ll be giving her first steps soon, I reckon.”

Her first impulse was to say no, no we can’t save the lecture for later, but instead she grinded her teeth together and said nothing. In the end, having a discussion with Erren whilst he was drunk wouldn’t give any results, and chances were that he’d forget most of it by morning time. Besides, it might wake Stannis up and that’s a change Selyse doesn’t want to take (not for herself, obviously, but for Erren. Stannis disliked his older brother’s taste for alcohol, and surely wouldn’t take Erren’s presence in such a state in their house very lightly).

Selyse finds a mug in the cupboard and pours some of the coffee already in the thermos that the cook had done some few hours ago – it wasn’t very hot but it was better than nothing and there was no way Selyse would prepare more coffee given than Erren might not stomach one full cup. “Drink it,” she said, handing him the mug.

[errenflorent-blog]

Well that didn't seem very reassuring to him, but then again, Erren was drunk, and not a doctor. He wasn't even halfway a doctor. He had taken maybe one biology class in his life -- and done miserably -- so he thought it would be best to just not pry anymore. He'd only say the wrong thing. "Oh," he replied, nodding. He smiled. "I want to see her, yeah. Just you wait, Selyse -- I'm going to be the most brilliant uncle. She'll take one look at me and know exactly what not to do in life." It was a half-lighthearted comment. But he half-meant it, too. Sometimes he thought, maybe he should get his act together. Sometimes.

Anyway, Erren was glad they got to save the lecture because that meant he didn't have to get his act together until later. He took the mug with what he hoped was an appreciative smile and sipped at it, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"You didn't ask me about London. Or school. I'm hurt a bit. London's nice -- you must know, you get to live here. I'll live here too, someday, once I run away for good. School is --" he paused to frown into his coffee "-- well, hence the running away."

[seaworthd]

text (dale & erren) | sept 1st

[seaworthd]

txt: i don’t listen to maroon 5 txt: what about me makes you even think about maroon 5

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: it just seems like a band that someone who cries a lot would listen to

[baratheonshireen-blog]

text message → erren (september 21st)

[baratheonshireen-blog]

Message : i thought you were that cool uncle, but maybe i was wrong D: i guess i’ll just have to ask someone else. 

Message : yeah no i have no one else. save me pleaseeee. you’re my favorite uncle to ever ever ever uncle.

Message : ._. i’m stuck at level 29

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: a florent is never wrong shireen have i taught you nothing txt: let me think about it... txt: thought about it. you're on i'll save you. but only because level 29 is a curse i wouldn't wish on even my worst enemies.

[baratheonshireen-blog]

text message → erren (september 21st)

[baratheonshireen-blog]

Message : hey D: 

Message : ikr ._. 

Message : idek filing stuff? computers, loads of coffee, backaches that would eventually lead to serious back problems when you turn 50, boring stuff, meetings. sound familiar?

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: :) txt: it's really too bad you don't have a cool uncle w/a getaway car who'd bust you out of there when times really got tough, huh? txt: yeah... more like playing candy crush behind my uncle axell's back while he thinks i'm making phone calls & scheduling meetings.

[seaworthd]

text (dale & erren) | sept 1st

[seaworthd]

txt: i didn’t txt: fucking txt: “miss” “you” txt: i was GONNA ask if you wanted to get drinks txt: but i changed my mind txt: you reminded me how much you suck

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: this has been txt: a conversation txt: with dale seaworth

(a moment later)

txt: how much maroon 5 do you listen to honestly

[baratheonshireen-blog]

text message → erren (september 21st)

Message : uncleeee :3

Message : uncle, i’m bored and achy and my brain is fried from school

Message : are you at work D: pay attention to me D:

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: oh look my second favorite niece!! txt: school? they still make kids go to that? txt: define work

[baratheon-selyse]

i'm damaged raw can't you see | erren & selyse | october 1996

[baratheon-selyse]

For a moment Selyse thought Erren would trip in the carpet and get sick. Don’t you dare vomit anywhere. Being drunk and in her doorstep was already too much for her, and having Erren sick was the last thing Selyse needed at the moment. Instead she rubbed her temple, thinking what would be best to do, given the state of her little brother. Thankfully, Selyse had never found herself in Erren’s position, she had always been in the right path all during her time at school, graduating with honors (Did she ever had a few much to drink? Yes of course, but never to get to the same point as Erren, and in those rare occasions she made sure very few people knew about it, least of all her family).

If she gave him any food, chances were it wouldn’t stay still in his stomach, but at the same time Selyse couldn’t send him to the guest bedroom before making sure he was at least slightly more sober than he was now. “Come, I’ll get you a coffee to see if it keeps you from falling sick,” she said, and started to walk towards the kitchen, not looking back to see if he was following her. “And please be quiet, Shireen has been asleep the entire night and I’d like to keep it that way.” Of all the things that could happen now, having Shireen awake screaming like she did would be the worst alternative. If Erren made too much noise it could startle her, and Selyse didn’t even want to think about the possibility of Erren wanting to see his niece tonight.

Selyse had been mad at him, for all the wrong decisions Erren had made so far, but nothing made her so angry as his half excuse, half apology. Was he really trying to say that his drunken state was the result of a higher power that had placed barrels and more barrels of whiskey in front of him and made him drink it all? She could even laugh about it had it not been so idiotic of Erren to say such a thing. She stopped moving and turned again to her brother, her voice sterner than before. “What’s happening now is not a bad thing, it’s just you being reckless and making stupid choices. A bad thing was what happened to dad. A bad thing is what’s happening to my daughter. Don’t try to act like this is not your fault, Erren.”

[errenflorent-blog]

Coffee, yes. Coffee was a good idea. Food was a bad idea; coffee was a good idea. Erren had learned that very early on in his boarding sch -- drinking days. Some lads swore by their carbs when they went a bit overboard, but Erren found it never went over well for him. He couldn't figure why. He tried to smile appreciatively at Selyse but he figured it only made him look sillier than he already did. Which was silly enough as it was. Which was fine. Erren didn't mind being silly. The Florents were too serious, if you asked him. Everything was too serious all the time.

"I won't wake her," he whispered, clumsily following his sister to the kitchen, knuckles lightly tracing the wall. His speech paused -- wondering, for a moment, whether or not he should continue. Erren liked kids, sort of being one himself. (Truth was -- Erren would always be a kid. It was obvious now. He would never grow out of it.) He liked the idea of having a niece, of being someone's uncle, of having someone to spoil but never have to really take care of (considering, he could hardly take care of himself). He decided to go on, another whisper: "How is she?"

But he said the wrong thing next, of course. He had that habit when drunk. When drunk and when not drunk. It was a bad habit. People, Erren found, had a way of sobering you up. Usually they did it by being too honest or too serious or too real -- and that was the sort of habit Selyse had always been very good at. If it had been anyone else scolding Erren Florent that night, he would have smirked in their face and shrugged, maybe come back with some smartass reply -- but it was Selyse, and he was standing in her house, and he had no where else to go; and also, he loved her.  "Another idea," he said slowly, "is we can save the lecture for tomorrow over breakfast?"

[bloodandglory-rp]

character: erren florent →  errenflorent baratheon 2012 ASHTON HOLMES

The baby of his family, born to a father who would up and die two years later and a generally non-committed mother, Erren Florent always felt a certain level of detachment from his home and reality. As a child he embodied the sentiment “head in the clouds:” forever daydreaming, forever roaming around the manor with his nose in a book, already making up the ending, acting it out as he went along (many injuries were acquired as such). As he grew older, lacking supervision, he became irresponsible and restless, and thus spent a good chunk of his youth partying, traveling, and doing poorly in school — a stark contrast to his old sister. Erren relied heavily on his connections and aristocracy to land him in Cambridge where he “studied” literature (though he was wholly uninterested in where his degree would take him).

Truly, it wasn’t the likes of Conrad and Milton but Erren’s penchant for thrill-seeking that found him living out of a suitcase and working at a mountain resort in Nepal for a year, or road tripping across the United States with a handful of strangers for two months. He would always come back, of course, with the promise to himself and his loved ones (the few he had left, considering he could never quite keep a nice girl or some decent friends around) that this time he was staying for good, and then he would leave. Between frequent escapes abroad, it was his carelessness that landed him in the papers after a badly covered scandal involving too much to drink and a very nasty fistfight at a trendy London club.

It is his childish unreliability – the ability to make excuses for oneself that is so tireless that it is almost impressive — that allows him to pick up and leave over and over again; and, it is his similarly childish loyalty to his family – particularly his sister and uncle – that keeps bringing him back.

[seaworthd]

text (dale & erren) | sept 1st

[seaworthd]

txt: no txt: anyway txt: the point is, yr back, yeah?

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: looks like it txt: awww txt: you missed me

[seaworthd]

text (dale & erren) | sept 1st

[seaworthd]

txt: i have friends txt: do you

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: ...yeah mate txt: do you need a manual

[seaworthd]

text (dale & erren) | sept 1st

[seaworthd]

txt: for you to turn down the music i can hear you from 50 walls away txt: like honestly shut up txt: also drinks

[errenflorent-blog]

txt: i make it a point to keep at least 51 walls between us at all times seaworth txt: desperate for friends?