Who: Hermann Gottlieb and Open What: Trying to make sense of what's going on When: Monday evening Where: Off Broadway Taproom Warnings: TBA Status: Open/On-going
Hermann was no stranger to weird things happening, between everything back home and everything he'd seen in town during the past three and a half years. This, though? This was more than a little bit beyond weird, and the fact that he had no idea what to do about it didn't sit well with him. Oh, he wasn't nearly so arrogant as to think that he could actually solve anything on his own, but the fact that he couldn't even seem to comprehend one tiny little part of it? That was what got to him.
Which was why he was sitting at a table at Off Broadway Taproom, mulling over what they knew so far -- which, admittedly, wasn't much they could do anything with at that moment -- and forcing himself to eat. He hadn't lost anyone to the angels yet, that he knew, but when he got wrapped up in something he tended to do the important things like eat or sleep.
Plus it was helping distract him from the children having gone home. He was one hundred percent good with that.
He knew he needed to stop thinking about it -- both the angels and the kids -- but he wasn't particularly inclined to. Healthy coping mechanisms? What were those?