It's kind of impressive how quickly everything goes to shit, but considering all that he's been through, Sylvain doesn't even get the satisfaction to say he's surprised. Which is to say: Sylvain is also outside! It's impossible to rationalize being anywhere else when there are so many people in need of rescue or some other sort of aid.
He's helping a young mother and daughter evacuate their home, lifting the latter into their family's carriage when the screams break out. There's a curse on his breath as he shifts his attention back into the main streets, but he retrieves his lance and excuses himself as soon as he's certain they can handle the rest themselves. He's not really looking for anyone once he's there, admittedly? Like, he's mostly trying to determine which spot needs him the most, but while he'll catch the boy's voice before he ever hears Marianne's over the noise, it's his recognition of her (and the Struggle) that brings him so quickly to her side, reaching for the boy's wrist and taking a sharp half step between them. Intervention: done.
"Hey, cut it out," he snaps, tone perhaps a bit harsher than it needs to be given the whole 'everyone's panicking' thing as he shakes his attention away from Marianne. But boy?? We may disrespect women's emotions in this house, but we do not make uninvited, bodily grabs at them! Damn!! "Calm down. Tell us where to go."
Simple, to the point, because if he's learned anything about people during a panic, it's that they often aren't capable of exchanging information beyond the basics. And sure enough, the boy doesn't seem to care much who he's holding onto, his free hand coming up to grip at the arm restraining him. He babbles something about help and this way, fragmented by the desperate sort of fear that comes with the spontaneity of situations like this, and once Sylvain feels like he's caught... like, enough-- or enough to figure out vaguely what's going on, beyond a whole fucking lot of everything, at least--he lets go and turns to glance at Marianne properly for the first time.
"Come with me?" Unlike the stern glare the young man had received, the Look he shoots Marianne is more like a question, a silent Are you alright that he knows better than to voice in the middle of such chaos. "I could use the backup."
Also, um? Is that a fucking lance?? Little miss birds and sunshine over here with a fucking lance, he can't help but wonder when the fuck that happened...
Belated but ALSO ready...!
He's helping a young mother and daughter evacuate their home, lifting the latter into their family's carriage when the screams break out. There's a curse on his breath as he shifts his attention back into the main streets, but he retrieves his lance and excuses himself as soon as he's certain they can handle the rest themselves. He's not really looking for anyone once he's there, admittedly? Like, he's mostly trying to determine which spot needs him the most, but while he'll catch the boy's voice before he ever hears Marianne's over the noise, it's his recognition of her (and the Struggle) that brings him so quickly to her side, reaching for the boy's wrist and taking a sharp half step between them. Intervention: done.
"Hey, cut it out," he snaps, tone perhaps a bit harsher than it needs to be given the whole 'everyone's panicking' thing as he shakes his attention away from Marianne. But boy?? We may disrespect women's emotions in this house, but we do not make uninvited, bodily grabs at them! Damn!! "Calm down. Tell us where to go."
Simple, to the point, because if he's learned anything about people during a panic, it's that they often aren't capable of exchanging information beyond the basics. And sure enough, the boy doesn't seem to care much who he's holding onto, his free hand coming up to grip at the arm restraining him. He babbles something about help and this way, fragmented by the desperate sort of fear that comes with the spontaneity of situations like this, and once Sylvain feels like he's caught... like, enough-- or enough to figure out vaguely what's going on, beyond a whole fucking lot of everything, at least--he lets go and turns to glance at Marianne properly for the first time.
"Come with me?" Unlike the stern glare the young man had received, the Look he shoots Marianne is more like a question, a silent Are you alright that he knows better than to voice in the middle of such chaos. "I could use the backup."
Also, um? Is that a fucking lance?? Little miss birds and sunshine over here with a fucking lance, he can't help but wonder when the fuck that happened...