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"I've been talking to the psychologist, Isadora, from time to time but, well... No real progress." He moved to unwrap Merry from his neck; the little Chimecho was warm, but he hadn't exactly been cold to begin with. "She figures there was a trigger that started it all when I was a kid, but since I can't remember the first time it happened..." It was more than a little frustrating that he had forgotten that thing that would explain why he kept forgetting things.

"You know, it happened just earlier too. I was sitting on the floor and then I was standing, but I don't remember getting up. It's kind of disconcerting, but I guess it's frequent enough that I'm used to it."

"Yeah, just a little while ago." He gestured to the guitar. "I was sitting with the thing in my lap, and the next thing I knew I was standing and it was down there. Missed the first part of what you said, too." He ran a hand through his hair. "Like I said, I'm pretty much used to it. And it doesn't happen nearly as often since I joined Rocket, so that's nice." He wasn't completely convinced that Galactic hadn't put something in the water or... something.

Lucas nodded, "Yeah, memory lapses, that's a good way to put it." He stepped away from the wall to better face his company, shaking his head 'no' at her question. "It seemed to happen a lot when I was talking to other elites and superiors, and I don't remember a single mission I've ever been on, but the trigger itself? No dice." He turned his head slightly when Claire seemed to realize something, a quiet "hm?" marking his curiosity. And then she moved, and Lucas moved almost simultaneously, moving to seize her right wrist and twist her arm behind her back.

A frightened "char!" was all Snow could say in reply, and Merry, who had been shaken free when her human moved so suddenly, brought her tiny arms to her tinier mouth formed into the shape of an upward-facing triangle. She jingled in alarm, attempting to draw her trainer's attention. Even the Chimecho who had been by his side for thirty years was hesitant to approach him when he was in that state.

Lucas heard something of a nervous voice asking to be released and, shortly thereafter, realized that he had Claire in an arm lock. "Oh man!" He immediately removed his hands and took several backpedaling steps. "Arceus! I'm so sorry!" He held his hands up, palms out, in an effort to allay any fear that he intended to hurt her. "Jeez... I-I didn't mean to-- I mean, what the hell just happened?"

It was all rather confusing, and the whole ordeal was giving Lucas a distinct sinking feeling. He would be released from the sensation shortly, though, for as Claire began speaking of the potential stimuli, all things faded to darkness and silence. Merry, who had been mid transit with the intent to return to her human's shoulder, stopped halfway when she noted the cold expression that had settled on his features. If Claire had paid much mind to his face during his earlier lunge, she would recognize it as the same.

"It's probably for the best if I don't know the exact cause," he said. His tone suggested that was more resolute than 'probably' in not understanding the true trigger.

"Why?" He folded his arms loosely across his chest as he repeated the question. "Why should I know? Knowing will either change nothing or return all of the buried memories. Neither is a positive outcome." His voice was nothing less than matter-of-fact, bordering on monotone, and not even the obvious confusion manifesting in Claire's head would bring a smirk to the hard, flat line of his lips. Her question of 'who' drew a snorted breath in response, but nothing more.

"I don't need to avoid danger. That's why I'm here in the first place. And as long as I'm here, no danger matters."

Blue eyes flicked to the nervous Merry as she took up a wallflower position, waiting for her dear human to return to himself. He shifted his weight between his feet, his arms remaining crossed and a subtle but distinct curtain of sorrow descending on his features. "What would you do if you woke up one morning and realized that you had killed countless individuals throughout your life, among them the people who were most important to you?" The question was rhetorical, and he didn't wait for a reply. "He can't handle it. I know better that better than anyone. He can't handle it, and that's why I'm here."

"It's not that distressing. I mentioned that, didn't I? It's frequent enough that it's basically normal. As long as it stays normal, he never has to be any more than slightly confused." He took a moment to remove his glasses and work a smudge off the lens. "Unless, of course, someone comes along and throws a wrench into my carefully laid plans." His pale blue eyes returned to Claire's face suddenly, and he returned his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"...Most of them, yes. I'm not sure if you were aware of it, but the espionage department had a subdivision. Assassination. That's where I worked." He wasn't normally so quick to give up such information, but it was rare that he had the opportunity to converse with others, let alone with a fellow former Galactic. "And between missions, I worked with the weapons department developing equipment to make my next mission easier." He narrowed his eyes slightly, tugging his sleeves to straighten them. "One... shouldn't have happened. It was an order, but I shouldn't have carried it out." He brought a hand to his forehead, as though suddenly afflicted with a headache. "He's got it in his head that it never happened, that the mark got away safely. If he ever finds out the truth... Arceus, I'll have ruined him..."