[Trish is unsympathetic to his position as a capo. Her status as a civilian became forfeit the second her father turned out to be the boss of the entire mafia!!
The more he talks, though, the more she believes this is the genuine article. There's no way anyone could mimic someone like Bucciarati so perfectly. He's just too...there's no one like him and his gang overall. Those boys were - and are - something else.
His expression doesn't betray much, but the fact he sits is an invitation to keep talking, and Trish mirrors the motion, tucking her legs close and feeling absolutely disgusting when her skirt and boots squelch with the movement.
She grimaces.
Does she feel obligated? Only if feeling obligated is equivalent to being drawn to a familiar face in a deeply unfamiliar place. They're not friends, but they have survived some harrowing situations as a team. Ally is the best word they have.]
I never cared what you were. But your actions spoke for you and I guess...
[That first part's not true, she was terrified of being surrounded by gangsters, but it does feel true now. He has none of his connections or obligations like he did in Passione.
Just like her, seeing as her mother is dead, her father is terrible and thankfully missing, and she's still processing the events of all that. They both have nothing! Isn't that great?
Anyways, there's a brief pause, like she's not sure what she's wanting to say. There's a lot to talk about they probably never will.]
In a way, I trust you. You've never meant me any harm, and I'm no danger to you.
[This is an agreeable arrangement. She's trying so hard to be as professional as he is, also, and it's terribly obvious.]
As for information, I haven't heard very much so far, other than we're not alone in being confused.
no subject
The more he talks, though, the more she believes this is the genuine article. There's no way anyone could mimic someone like Bucciarati so perfectly. He's just too...there's no one like him and his gang overall. Those boys were - and are - something else.
His expression doesn't betray much, but the fact he sits is an invitation to keep talking, and Trish mirrors the motion, tucking her legs close and feeling absolutely disgusting when her skirt and boots squelch with the movement.
She grimaces.
Does she feel obligated? Only if feeling obligated is equivalent to being drawn to a familiar face in a deeply unfamiliar place. They're not friends, but they have survived some harrowing situations as a team. Ally is the best word they have.]
I never cared what you were. But your actions spoke for you and I guess...
[That first part's not true, she was terrified of being surrounded by gangsters, but it does feel true now. He has none of his connections or obligations like he did in Passione.
Just like her, seeing as her mother is dead, her father is terrible and thankfully missing, and she's still processing the events of all that. They both have nothing! Isn't that great?
Anyways, there's a brief pause, like she's not sure what she's wanting to say. There's a lot to talk about they probably never will.]
In a way, I trust you. You've never meant me any harm, and I'm no danger to you.
[This is an agreeable arrangement. She's trying so hard to be as professional as he is, also, and it's terribly obvious.]
As for information, I haven't heard very much so far, other than we're not alone in being confused.