About The Blog:
This is an ask and rp blog for Florian Brand, the Fire Investigator, from IDV! (RP leaning, but I can do quick asks every so often!)
Posts will mostly be written responses, but occasionally I may do drawings depending on the interaction/question!
Rules:
Please keep asks and RPs SFW.
I will touch on darker themes, as I feel it's important to be conscious of such things when writing these characters and their experiences. These will be tagged to the best of my ability.
An extra note. Florian is HoH, and I am a hearing writer. I am researching to portray this to the best of my ability and feedback is very welcome! Ableism begone.
Hate mail is not welcome. It will not be replied to.
I am a multishipper, both in terms of being willing to write multiple relationships and in terms of having multiple characters I enjoy picturing with any given character! I have preferences and leanings, but I am more than willing to discuss these. Feel free to reach out in DMs! (Florian is not going to be an easy one: he is friendly, yes, but he does not share much about himself, which is an obstacle in most relationships, romantic or otherwise.)
About the Muse:
On the shorter side, notably has quite a bit of muscle, fat, and body hair (at least in the parts where it still grows. burns and all.)
Florian is hard of hearing (HoH) due to having frequent exposure to loud sounds (sensorineural, mild hearing loss in both ears). Looking at whoever he talks to isn't just a matter of keeping up an image, it's necessary for him to make a more informed guess at what's being said. (If someone is not close to him they will sound muffled. Apologies!)
Tends to keep his left eye more centered, as it is the one that works. This has consequences, as in. Ow his neck.
Other problems with having only one working eye include smashing directly into walls and any surprise objects on his right side (he does have to use that side every so often while kiting, even if he does prefer to have the wall to his left so he can see it). The glove is NOT just for hiding burns, but also bruises from these incidents. (Having an airbag is nice at least. He does have to be very conscious of his route plans since with how he aims, there's only so well he can see it when he's close.)
Attention makes sense to him. Attention is how he knows he is doing well. The attention of a newspaper article, the praise after a successful rescue, it all grounds him.
When he brings up his scars, or even more rarely, hearing loss, he usually precedes it with the fires: as he does with a lot of the things he's not so happy with. Bring something he prefers as context so it can be something he's proud of as the focus, so it can be from the same thing that started all those miracles.)
Focusing on certain tasks for long periods proves difficult when he is around a lot of sounds that he can't process (he knows they're there, but can't really understand what's going on). (Extra note: Tinnitus sucks and is extremely real. He needs some baseline sound, but not too much.)
Has a... complicated relationship with the recurring dreams and the stories repeatedly told. Being used as a living donation poster through the way that tale was spun and focused on how wonderful it is he's alive and ignoring the pain of the loss entirely. It's easier to believe it was like that, easier to take another angle. And it sure makes those around him pleased. His parents are still here in his memory, like the scent of that flower from long ago. (His parents chose him over themselves. In some ways, he doesn't understand. And yet he does, all too well.)
When it comes to actually setting fires, Florian is careful about when he sets, where, and who could be present. Not only is getting caught an issue, but the thought of failing to save people, of repeating the incident from his childhood is terrifying. Yes, fire may be a trial, but he wants people to pass that test!
He's a very curious sort and loves learning about the ways things work, the causes and effects of this and that, the 'why' of it all! He did design the airbag he uses in-game, after all. (Maybe if he understands the fire that caused everything, he can work with it rather than fear it.)
It isn't that Florian has to follow in his parents' footsteps. But he wants to, in what little ways he can. It's invention and study and finding cause and effect. It's not fully what he does, but he finds ways to be like them, who he loved so much.
Is generally an extroverted sort, but cannot stand talking in circles or the sorts of conversations that feel like they aren't for any purpose.
He's learned well what people expect of him, that he is expected to be pleasant and well-mannered. So that is how he acts, so he keeps a smile on his face as much of the time as he does. It's only sometimes a facade, only sometimes an act. He does genuinely enjoy being around people, and loves talking about his interests. Several practiced responses to sound like he's agreeing when he can't actually hear what was said help too. (Body language is useful in times like these.)
Highly emotionally perceptive: can and will spot details in a person's demeanor, perhaps those the person would rather have unnoticed. May not directly say it but there will be some way of comforting if he senses stress.
Due to being placed as a manager of the children in his time at the orphanage and therefore looked up to and having a position of responsibility as well as power, Florian has learned a good deal about taking care of others! Good candidate for looking after someone.
Does not answer questions about his personal life. For one, people cannot know about what he's been doing. For another, there is the idealized version of Florian that's been living in the public consciousness for so long that any move that could be made and seen, any action that shows him as truly a person rather than simply the golden boy and hometown hero, he doesn't know if it'll shatter all that. He's not ready to test that.
That said, the general friendly demeanor and gravitating towards people, looking for those who are downtrodden and asking what he can do (praise is familiar, safe), his curiosity in asking how something works, that is genuine. There are things he keeps behind closed doors, yes, because he can't risk being seen as something less than the vision he's been placed as for so long, can't be fully known (he would be so anxious about a public relationship with someone), but his personality, at least, is mostly true.
Despite all this, most of what he discloses is pretty surface-level. It's hard to hear much that would be truly 'personal' without getting close and without serious prodding.
About The Writer: Main blog is @snowsirenarts
Snow, she/her, 20+
I am autistic and struggle to pick up on certain things! If I whiff the intended meaning, feel free to let me know! (I am lucky to be writing someone who shares similar struggles with socializing in the world, but I know that any communication form and any way people want to say this or that thing can be confusing for one or both parties, and/or we think the same thing in different ways!)
I also write:
Aesop Carl, the Embalmer, on @yellow-rose-embalmer
Edgar Valden, the Painter, on @whispering-brushes
Keigan Nicholas Keogh, the Clerk, on @chiefjusticekeogh
[An envelope, warm brown and ever so slightly rough to the touch, passes through the mail slot of Victor's door. The stamp is most certainly recognizable as the symbol on a certain fire investigator's hat if one were to pay attention to such things. The paper inside is simple with a slight warm tone to it, the text clearly legible but hardly focused on keeping things perfectly aligned.]
Good day, Mr. Grantz!
I'd noticed you staying near the walls lately, as if avoiding someone. This is hardly to judge, of course! Though, if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm always here to listen to your worries or offer any advice you may need.
It may seem curious that I'm reaching out through a letter, I know, but I have my reasons. I'm sure with how you tend not to speak, it may be easier for you as well?
Feel free to reply whenever! Taking care of deliveries on top of everything else must be quite a lot, I don't expect immediacy. I'm quite busy myself, after all. I'll always be ready to lend an ear, though. Or an eye, as the case may be.
Your fireman,
Florian Brand
( @miraculous-combustion )
Oh god.
This was a problem.
Logically, Victor knows Mr. Brand is very well liked by most of the residents of the manor, and refusing to interact with him is an awful idea, especially now that he's noticed Victor's avoidance.
But Victor's brain had never run particularly well on logic. It was always much more nervous of people than Victor's job ever wanted it to be. Oh, he just had to be trapped with a brain that made him want to retreat at a high speed whenever somebody even slightly loud was nearby, didn't he?
Florian is much more than that. He's terrifying.
He's deaf, making every word he says louder to compensate and ruining the privacy of any conversation you could try to have, he's sociable, meaning people are often swarming near him, and he must have some goddamn invisible spotlight he carries with him at all times, because anybody who dares look in the wrong direction and catches his interest gets all eyes on them even if nobody but Florian is around.
That's why Victor has avoided him. Is still avoiding him, because Florian's fucking letter has rotted in Victor's room for at least a month, Florian seems even more intent on talking to him than before, and he's has barely had the courage to leave his room (at this point, it seems like the whole manor is in on the fact that the two are playing cat and mouse) let alone respond to Florian's letter in a professional way.
Maybe, he thinks, if he writes something small, something blunt, something polite, Florian will leave him alone. It will stop. Victor won't feel like his life is on the line about a simple conversation anymore. Maybe. Maybe.
[a note (for it could in any way be called a letter, in as rough a state as it is) is shoved rather callously through the letter slot late in the evening, when most of the manor has gone to bed. It's crumpled note paper with no decoration.]
[it reads: "Leave me alone. Please, god, leave me alone. - V"]
Florian wasn't actually certain someone was in, but he thought it worth a try. If anything, he wanted to know why. Why Victor was so insistent on Florian keeping that distance, why that message read so fearfully. And one can't get that without some sort of contact, right?
The dimming of lights on the other side of the door tells him in a moment that the room is occupied. This is useful, but he's ever more aware of how carefully he needs to behave. Thin ice, Mr. Brand. (If he can't reach someone, is he really the miracle he appears to be?)
So he lowers his voice (inasmuch as he can still hear himself, at least). "Oh, dear—I mean you no harm, Mr. Grantz. I'm simply worried. Of course, I read that letter, and I will make my distance shortly. I simply... don't understand why, what it is I'm doing. You seemed terrified in that note, there, and I wouldn't want you to keep feeling that way."
He hopes that's enough. All he can do is wait for reply. It won't be verbal, right? Wait, he should— "Ah, you don't have to say anything of course!" There. For real this time.
When Mike eventually speaks, he spits out the words with a lip curled in distaste, frustration creating a heavy frown in his brows. It doesn't quite sound like he's entirely present - still lost in trying to figure out what's going on, sorting through the feelings that are racing and frenzied in his mind, leaving his head spinning. Because of that, the anger behind his statement isn't as obvious as it could be... at least to begin with.
But just like a small flame can quickly explode into a blazing inferno, Mike too is just about ready to erupt. The moment he locks eyes with Florian, the rage and devastation inside him tear a howl out of him, one that seems accusing yet desperate all at the same time.
That familiar smell of wood burning and smoldering and becoming something else, it overpowers Florian's senses and reminds him even still what just happened, in the same way the bright blaze in deep night sky was the first indicator that he needed to arrive.
The frame of the tent looked on the verge of collapse, the seats and stage smoldering and unstable. With the incident not being one Florian planned, he had to be much more careful, since he was much less certain of what to expect and how likely he was to be able to get anyone out (if anyone was there at all, let alone still alive).
Florian's heart still beat rapidly once he had managed to get Mike out of the doomed tent. This was how the body responded, he knew this all too well. Fear happened, fear was natural. (Fear is nothing more than a bodily response, he's sure.) Either way, he knew the path he wishes to follow, and the move in accordance with that was rushing inside, seeing if there was anyone he can save.
Seated near Mike, Florian couldn't stop himself from looking over the damage done, the signs that a difficult trial had been faced and survived. Bruises lining where heavy items must have fallen on top of him, burns from both contact and the simple temperature of it all, it was clear this was a necessary intervention. He's not sure if suffocation from the smoke or the burning taking too much would have been the cause of death, but he doesn't want to wait long enough to find that out.
Mike speaks, and Florian turns to listen, his eyes and smile sympathetic. Thankfully, in this quiet, when his ears have already adjusted to the flames, it's easier to focus on the acrobat's words. Still, it's much easier to be sure of what he thinks he's hearing if he can have a proper eye on Mike's face. Maybe staying silent a little while will help those thoughts come out.
He definitely heard what came after, regardless of whether he was prepared to. In an instant, Florian's eyes widen, expression growing nervous, his smile disappearing for the faintest moment before Florian recomposes himself, even if said smile is stretched thin.
Such a question wasn't easy to answer. Florian could answer with the scientific side, but he was fairly certain such a response was not what Mike was looking for.
"You're alive because I wasn't going to leave you to die." It's certainly a direct answer to the question, Florian's hand over his chest, his voice lined with intensity, conviction. "If I know someone's in danger, what else am I supposed to do?"
And then, softer, "...between you and me, I've asked myself that question many times in my youth." Why was he alive, and not his parents? Why did they choose to ensure his survival above all else? He understands now, of course, that his parents made that choice and understood what it would cost them. (He knows exactly how publicized that particular story is, but he would rather not bring up the details if he doesn't have to.)
"I would be surprised to make it out of that too, with how flammable that tent was... I'm already surprised it took this long before this tent went up in flames." (The lightbulbs directly next to wood and fabric are left unmentioned. He shouldn't go on too long.) It sounds like an idle thought, like Florian is puzzling out the situation from what he already knows from his studies and experiments. Florian has reasonable confidence this isn't what Mike is thinking. But if he can posit a false reason and draw out the true reason, maybe, just maybe he can get somewhere.
Florian, meanwhile, is stressing over the knowledge that Felicity is bleeding out. He knew he agreed to something, but didn't quite realize it was this! Search and rescue is something he's done many times over, he'll more than willingly do it again.
It was immensely frustrating that he couldn't pick up both Aesop and Felicity, couldn't be in two places at once. He couldn't let himself lose what image he had, though. Holding the fading flickers of a smile strained by knowing how long it's been since Felicity was knocked down without sign of her getting up, he knew his time was short on helping either. Technically he had longer, but if he could patch up Felicity just a bit, he could pick up Aesop afterward and get Felicity the rest of the way afterward.
Yes. This was a sound plan. All he needed to do was not get hit right out of the camera world. (This was much easier said than done. A blind eye makes Joseph... not one of Florian's better matchups. Still, he has a job to do, does he not?)
It takes a moment for Florian to realize there's anyone speaking at all behind him. Something muffled at best, and he's not sure who it is anyway. Having to spend so much effort on tasks like these means there's less attention left for checking surroundings for any hazards.
These include a certain photographer popping right out of a photograph.
That's... how many terror shocks from Joseph? He's lost track. It's part of daily life, to not see something coming and take a bruise, a scrape, a slash or two. But he doesn't run into the burning building expecting to come out unscathed, why should that be true of matches? (Ignore how many times he's run into walls. And Joseph's cameras.)
Of course, if this gentleman was saying anything earlier and Florian was intended to hear, he'd have to get that information again. He turns up towards Joseph, almost sheepish in his smile that he managed to recover concerningly quickly. "Excuse me, sir, were you saying something earlier? I'm afraid I couldn't quite make everything out."
Florian, meanwhile, is stressing over the knowledge that Felicity is bleeding out. He knew he agreed to something, but didn't quite realize it was this! Search and rescue is something he's done many times over, he'll more than willingly do it again.
It was immensely frustrating that he couldn't pick up both Aesop and Felicity, couldn't be in two places at once. He couldn't let himself lose what image he had, though. Holding the fading flickers of a smile strained by knowing how long it's been since Felicity was knocked down without sign of her getting up, he knew his time was short on helping either. Technically he had longer, but if he could patch up Felicity just a bit, he could pick up Aesop afterward and get Felicity the rest of the way afterward.
Yes. This was a sound plan. All he needed to do was not get hit right out of the camera world. (This was much easier said than done. A blind eye makes Joseph... not one of Florian's better matchups. Still, he has a job to do, does he not?)
Hernando's voice, as always, is cheery and brimming with confidence - a sense of brashness that's well-matched by his gleam of a smile. But there's something a little sharp about that smile. It's not the kind of sharpness that comes from suspicion... or at least, it doesn't seem to be - but to those with an equally sharp eye, it makes it obvious that Hernando is more than he appears.
And perhaps the same could be said about Florian. Of course, Hernando himself holds no particular awareness of anything hidden under his surface, but he's not one to underestimate another, either. Especially one who's life is so intimately tied to the concept of danger. They're the same, in that way - constantly surrounded by it, existing inside of it, coming so close to the edge of death on a regular basis that it feels like when they meet again, they've never really parted ways.
Or, well... Hernando can only imagine that that's the case for Florian, too. The danger that comes with the nature of his profession makes it seem likely, but he can't see into his mind - so who knows what sensation it is that makes Florian's heart beat when he finds himself at the scene of a fire? It's an intriguing thought. Maybe it even makes Hernando feel a little hopeful - that this is someone who might understand how he feels. But there's no time for these sorts of thoughts now. What Hernando needs to focus on, as always... is assessing the situation - and finding the danger that lurks in the corners of this Manor and of this room.
"All good things, of course. It can be difficult to tell fact from rumor... but by any means, the pleasure is all mine. In some ways... a place like this seems quite well-suited to you, don't you think?"
Florian gives an asymmetrical smile, raising a hand behind his neck in a gesture that can be either a show of faux sheepishness or an attempt to soothe pain from holding his head off center for too long. And yet, even as Florian smiles so often, his eye seems fixed on Hernando. How fortunate that Hernando speaks up, it is painfully easy to mishear people.
"I've heard plenty about you myself! You'd be right, people say all sorts o' things." A hearty laugh, as Florian lowers his hand. Perhaps to defuse tension, perhaps to show a sense of agreement.
It isn't that Florian has specific knowledge as to what exactly is hidden, but he can tell something is present. Of course, that desire to know has many ends. There's knowing in order to reach Hernando. There's knowing so he can understand yet another cause and effect. Every fire comes from a source, there is reason behind which sparks ignite and which do not.
And if Florian can get a clearer picture, he can make stronger conclusions, reduce the risk for those tests he does everything to ensure people pass. Even with such danger being a regular occurrence, Florian has controlled and fixed such a thing in advance, has planned the outcome long before the first flickers of light, long before the smoke began to rise.
A single eye crosses to the side as Florian gives a long, drawn out hum of thought before he finally replies, gaze fixing once more onto Hernando. "In some ways, I suppose. It's certainly tested my ability to save people, if nothing else. I imagine your own skills have given you quite a bit to work with here."
[An envelope, warm brown and ever so slightly rough to the touch, passes through the mail slot of Victor's door. The stamp is most certainly recognizable as the symbol on a certain fire investigator's hat if one were to pay attention to such things. The paper inside is simple with a slight warm tone to it, the text clearly legible but hardly focused on keeping things perfectly aligned.]
Good day, Mr. Grantz!
I'd noticed you staying near the walls lately, as if avoiding someone. This is hardly to judge, of course! Though, if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm always here to listen to your worries or offer any advice you may need.
It may seem curious that I'm reaching out through a letter, I know, but I have my reasons. I'm sure with how you tend not to speak, it may be easier for you as well?
Feel free to reply whenever! Taking care of deliveries on top of everything else must be quite a lot, I don't expect immediacy. I'm quite busy myself, after all. I'll always be ready to lend an ear, though. Or an eye, as the case may be.
Your fireman,
Florian Brand
( @miraculous-combustion )
Oh god.
This was a problem.
Logically, Victor knows Mr. Brand is very well liked by most of the residents of the manor, and refusing to interact with him is an awful idea, especially now that he's noticed Victor's avoidance.
But Victor's brain had never run particularly well on logic. It was always much more nervous of people than Victor's job ever wanted it to be. Oh, he just had to be trapped with a brain that made him want to retreat at a high speed whenever somebody even slightly loud was nearby, didn't he?
Florian is much more than that. He's terrifying.
He's deaf, making every word he says louder to compensate and ruining the privacy of any conversation you could try to have, he's sociable, meaning people are often swarming near him, and he must have some goddamn invisible spotlight he carries with him at all times, because anybody who dares look in the wrong direction and catches his interest gets all eyes on them even if nobody but Florian is around.
That's why Victor has avoided him. Is still avoiding him, because Florian's fucking letter has rotted in Victor's room for at least a month, Florian seems even more intent on talking to him than before, and he's has barely had the courage to leave his room (at this point, it seems like the whole manor is in on the fact that the two are playing cat and mouse) let alone respond to Florian's letter in a professional way.
Maybe, he thinks, if he writes something small, something blunt, something polite, Florian will leave him alone. It will stop. Victor won't feel like his life is on the line about a simple conversation anymore. Maybe. Maybe.
[a note (for it could in any way be called a letter, in as rough a state as it is) is shoved rather callously through the letter slot late in the evening, when most of the manor has gone to bed. It's crumpled note paper with no decoration.]
[it reads: "Leave me alone. Please, god, leave me alone. - V"]
Florian certainly wouldn't have heard the letter being haphazardly shoved through. He doesn't see it at first when he gets up in the morning, only knowing something was there after waking up a bit further, after having some breakfast and realizing that no, that wasn't just a spot of light landing on the floorboards. So of course he had to crouch down to investigate, stretching his neck that he is suddenly all too aware of now that he's still.
He does what he can to smooth the paper, narrowing his eye for a closer look.
Oh dear. This was not good at all.
If he has to stay away, if he is the one being avoided, what can he do? And besides, he doesn't even know why! The emphasis on "please, god" worries him, too. There has to be something more here. He has to make it right, he has to help. What else was he supposed to do?
========
Florian walks quickly to his destination with long strides, biting back the concern and wearing a practiced smile on the way before he knocks on Victor's door with what he thinks is a rap-tap-tap. "Mr. Grantz? Is everything all right?" It isn't certain whether the postman is there. Maybe he will get found from behind. But if Victor is there, he does wish to see what he can do.
The tail end of a conversation fades out, the door clicks shut as Florian says his farewells to whoever is outside. "Now what's this?" His eye seems to go just a bit wider, head tilting curiously as he takes the paper in hand. Humming every so often, he finally comes to a conclusion, looking up with a smile yet brighter. "Well, why didn't you ask sooner? Of course I'm ready! Ask away!"
[WE ARE OPEN! HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEE- yes. again. we're launching two in a night i'm ready.]
