Particularly poor at small talk, Kurt responded to Blaze’s brief attempts at conversations with small grunts, nods, and occasionally, should he be lucky, perhaps a single syllable word answer. It wasn’t at all that he was disinterested – though, when sober, he was generally bored by idle chatter – but rather, he wasn’t sure what to say; so he didn’t say anything, really.<br/><br/>“I’ve seen much worse.” Kurt muttered wryly as they entered Blaze’s apartment, remembering the state of his room back at home, right now. If his room was free of rotting food or dead animals, it constituted to pretty clean in Kurt’s eyes. Awkwardly, he milled around the room as Blaze adjusted into his home, keeping his shoes on, shuffling around, fiddling nosily with little bits here and there, ceasing only when he noticed Blaze returning with Kurt’s one and only true love – free booze.  Unflinchingly, he took his shot and poured another, too, sipping it quietly as he wandered around the room some more, making a mental blue-print of his surroundings, poking his head around doorways.<br/><br/>Eventually, he placed his empty glass down on the table, satisfied there were no concealed weapons or hidden people or anything else peculiar like that, and dropped clumsily onto the opposite side of the sofa. He regarded Blaze for perhaps a few more moments than was normal, before pouting thoughtfully, as though Blaze’s simple question was considerably more complicated that it seemed. After a while of deliberation, he only shrugged. “Dunno. My brother moved here and I followed him. Didn’t really think about it. You’d have to ask him why this town, I guess.” He admitted, bringing his hand to his mouth and chewing the tip of his thumb, grating his teeth over the nail. “We moved from Germany because mum made us. I think we moved from Germany because of her, too. She was annoying. Dunno.”<br/><br/>--<br/><br/>The man before him was a shell of the man who had assaulted those armed criminals – and yet, so much more human. However, Luther was not slow. This man had forgotten everything that had occurred in the previous few minutes, yet was not even remotely surprised, only upset – beyond that, he offered to give an explanation. Luther was unsure what exactly was the cause of his new acquaintance’s personality shift and subsequent memory loss, but people did peculiar things when they were afraid and angry – and given not only all the witnesses that could account for weapons and aggression, but the fact that they had been some distance from others, anyway, there was very little chance anyone would even know about Quinn’s actions, let alone question them.<br/><br/>“No.” he decided, firmly, standing upright and glancing around the room. He nodded politely at a co-worker, briefly. “No, if whatever just transpired is symptomatic of a pre-existing condition and you’re receiving treatment in whatever necessary form, it’s none of my business. I only wanted to make sure you hadn’t been hurt.”<br/><br/>Against his better instincts, Luther elected to put some faith into the man before him. He wasn’t particularly sure why – perhaps Luther was drawn to problem people. It certainly seemed that was, nowadays. Calmly, and as objectively as possible, (besides a firm reprimanding for the recklessness of his brash attack) he explained what had happened to Quinn. Then, politely, he dismissed himself, asking Quinn to stay put as he spoke with a colleague who had come to the scene. Presently, medics were performing routine examinations on everyone, and those who had been cleared as unharmed, (which was thankfully the majority, besides the person on till, who had been struck about the head a few times) were being asked for their statements. Luther sent a medic over to examine Quinn for any signs of physical injury and diligently sat through the practice for himself, too, just for caution. After quickly jotting down as many important details as he could for his own statement, he then returned to Quinn with a pad of paper and a pen.<br/><br/>“It’s common to struggle to remember traumatic events, particularly immediately after their occurrence. If you could give me your name and contact details, I’ll write in your witness statement that you didn’t see much. A description of their outfits, their eyes, no more. Furthermore, I will state you shouted at a few of them. All right?” he negotiated, watching Quinn carefully, hoping he was right to put his trust in the man like this.