[Trish won't ever assert he was being unfair...she knows she's not nearly as strong as a single member of the gang he left behind. They'd shake their heads at her, she's sure. If she's honest with herself, she admires Bruno so much because he can do all these things unbothered...she wants to be that way. Logic first, everything else second. But then, doing any of the things they'd done to win wasn't by any means sane, but she supposes it was logical.
It was logical to save Giorno's hand that day. His ability was crucial. But more importantly, it was right. Infinitely harder, but right. And Bruno does things like that all the time! Or, did. He shouldn't have to anymore.
She doesn't expect further conversation, either way, and images of her mother drift behind her closed eyes, how until Donatella's illness they'd spend free days browsing through shops and picking outfits for each other - and then she hears her name said, in a worn tone, gently bringing her out of the memory.
Trish doesn't look at Bruno, but she does open her eyes to see the slime drying on the floor, frowning at it as it deserves. She hums. When she speaks, it's almost methodical, like reading off a grocery list.]
...I went back to my old apartment. I don't have any relatives, so I emancipated myself, and I've been using my mother's savings to pay the bills in the meantime. I probably need to find a job...
[God. She'd actually reached out to a friend of her mom's recently, an agent in the entertainment world that found a good gossip buddy in Donatella. But she hadn't heard back yet and then this happened!
She is not going to mention dropping out school! She's sure Bruno would love to hear that considering what she'd seen and heard about Narancia (sometimes from Narancia himself).]
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It was logical to save Giorno's hand that day. His ability was crucial. But more importantly, it was right. Infinitely harder, but right. And Bruno does things like that all the time! Or, did. He shouldn't have to anymore.
She doesn't expect further conversation, either way, and images of her mother drift behind her closed eyes, how until Donatella's illness they'd spend free days browsing through shops and picking outfits for each other - and then she hears her name said, in a worn tone, gently bringing her out of the memory.
Trish doesn't look at Bruno, but she does open her eyes to see the slime drying on the floor, frowning at it as it deserves. She hums. When she speaks, it's almost methodical, like reading off a grocery list.]
...I went back to my old apartment. I don't have any relatives, so I emancipated myself, and I've been using my mother's savings to pay the bills in the meantime. I probably need to find a job...
[God. She'd actually reached out to a friend of her mom's recently, an agent in the entertainment world that found a good gossip buddy in Donatella. But she hadn't heard back yet and then this happened!
She is not going to mention dropping out school! She's sure Bruno would love to hear that considering what she'd seen and heard about Narancia (sometimes from Narancia himself).]
Assuming we make it back to Italy.
[Are they even on Earth? She doubts it.]