Once inside, Guzma stops a little ways in, looking around the place for the first time. Strange that he's never thought to stop by and bother Nanu before now, but he supposes that was by and large because he was busy getting up to no good. And while he's always had a weird take on respect for Nanu, it's never been to the degree it is now.
He looks to the cats... though the non-Pokèmon catches his attention and he gives it an odd look. He's not sure if he'll ever get used to the non-Pokèmon here, they look so strange by comparison. While Guzma gives Persian an acknowledging nod, Nanu's question in contrast does indeed go unanswered, because right now Guzma's not entirely sure what he wants. Even with something as simple as coffee. Though, he's never been much of a fan, not that he'll turn it down when Nanu comes back and gives it to him.
Deciding that he should sit, instead of standing around like a Donphan in the room, he makes his way to the couch. Even if Persian isn't his Pokèmon, and his affinity is far more with bugs, there's just... something comforting about being near a Pokèmon. He's not even fully aware that's why he chose the couch over the chair.
When Nanu returns, he'll find Guzma sitting on the middle portion of the couch, with his elbows resting on his knees, slouched over his lap. His head hanging. His glasses are in his left hand, though the hold is loose. His hood is still up and blocking his face. His breaths are slow and shallow, but they're noticeable. He's a pitiful sight, to be sure.
It takes him a second to notice Nanu's there, and peeking up just enough to see the mug, he takes it. He doesn't take a drink, not yet, instead he seems fit to just hold it for now, letting his head hang again.]
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Once inside, Guzma stops a little ways in, looking around the place for the first time. Strange that he's never thought to stop by and bother Nanu before now, but he supposes that was by and large because he was busy getting up to no good. And while he's always had a weird take on respect for Nanu, it's never been to the degree it is now.
He looks to the cats... though the non-Pokèmon catches his attention and he gives it an odd look. He's not sure if he'll ever get used to the non-Pokèmon here, they look so strange by comparison. While Guzma gives Persian an acknowledging nod, Nanu's question in contrast does indeed go unanswered, because right now Guzma's not entirely sure what he wants. Even with something as simple as coffee. Though, he's never been much of a fan, not that he'll turn it down when Nanu comes back and gives it to him.
Deciding that he should sit, instead of standing around like a Donphan in the room, he makes his way to the couch. Even if Persian isn't his Pokèmon, and his affinity is far more with bugs, there's just... something comforting about being near a Pokèmon. He's not even fully aware that's why he chose the couch over the chair.
When Nanu returns, he'll find Guzma sitting on the middle portion of the couch, with his elbows resting on his knees, slouched over his lap. His head hanging. His glasses are in his left hand, though the hold is loose. His hood is still up and blocking his face. His breaths are slow and shallow, but they're noticeable. He's a pitiful sight, to be sure.
It takes him a second to notice Nanu's there, and peeking up just enough to see the mug, he takes it. He doesn't take a drink, not yet, instead he seems fit to just hold it for now, letting his head hang again.]