[ fortunately, he's used to dealing with fussy teens who are resistant to being taken care of (Fugo), so he takes it all in stride - something even easier to do when he's simply happy she's not dead, besides. She sounds so normal that he almost forgets she's about to shift when he opens the curtain. For Bruno, who'd been staying illuminated by the dim lighting in the room as best he could already, it simply makes the extra fur that had been creeping up past the perimeter of his suit and around his cheekbones vanish again. For Trish, though - well. She's gone all the way from bear to girl again. Fortunately, she's still clothed, unlike he usually is. Still, Bucciarati is suddenly aware that she probably doesn't like doing something so vulnerable in front of people. She's that type.
He meets her defiant gaze for a brief moment, then looks away again, near-politely, reaching one big paw out for the doorknob again. ]
... Don't hurt yourself, Trish. [ in other words: yes, you are awake, good job, now please stay that way. ] And don't fall asleep again before I come back.
its true. bruno likes fussy teens he has so many fussy teens
[Oh, she absolutely hates transforming in front of people. But it's either that or let Bruno keep fussing, and she can stand that even less when she's supposed to be strong and independent in front of him.
Transforming is vulnerable in so many senses too – the world disappears into a blur of pain, and she's always afraid it won't end...but it does.
Her low heart rate and blood pressure from being asleep for so long seems remedied at least, as the rush of adrenaline gets her blood moving again. Something tells her whatever sleep she fell into was a little scuffed, because not even on her worst days as a human did she struggle this much. But she's determined to get out of bed and stand for when Bruno comes back, watching him go with a small huff.
She emphatically does not accomplish her goal.
Well, she manages to stand, but the sudden change in blood pressure makes her dizzy immediately, and she ends up sitting on the floor and very confused about it. Bears are not immune to orthostatic hypotension.
When Bruno comes back, she's still there, but she is awake. That counts for something, right?]
...I think I'm dehydrated.
[This is the smallest, tiniest way of admitting that maybe...she should have waited for him.]
[ obviously, it takes him all of three minutes to go downstairs, retrieve a drink from the fridge, and come back up; even so, the entire time, he feels like he's taking too long. Perhaps he should have called Fugo so that one of them could stand by and keep an eye on her. If Trish came to and then blacked out again because he decided to leave and fetch her water, he'd be pissed at himself. (Trish would undoubtedly hate to be so monitored by the two of them in her just-woken-up rumpled state and in the privacy of her room, no doubt, but Bucciarati considers this only for a moment before tossing it aside. Her health is more important!)
Luckily, though, when he pushes the door open again, Trish is still lucid, even if she is sitting on the floor for some reason. This situation puzzles him briefly, which shows on his expression, but he disregards it after a second, kneeling down to hand her the water. ]
Probably.
[ it is, indeed, the fancy brand of mineral water she likes, and it even has a note on it in Fugo's handwriting telling other people not to drink it. He stays where he's squatting after handing it to her, watching her as if the cause of her sudden sleep might now have become obvious. (It's not.) ]
[It feels like a long time, for her part. She stares at the slightly ajar door, waiting for Bruno's hairy form to reappear, all while feeling exhausted from sleeping.
Genuinely, the worst feeling in the world.
Thankfully, sitting on the floor actually encourages her to withstand the grogginess. Mostly because falling asleep on the floor is far more humiliating than being in a coma, in her teenager mind.
At least he doesn't say anything about her sitting on the floor, and he has water. She recognizes the familiar sweep of Fugo's handwriting, too, ever particular in making sure her things are labeled and in their proper place. She accepts it with zero hesitation, popping it open effortlessly and chugging it in the least graceful manner she's capable of. She had no idea it was possible to be this thirsty, and she'll finish the whole thing in no time at all.
Although...she is very aware of Bruno watching her as she takes one last gulp, slowly lowering the bottle once it's empty and returning his gaze, as if she can make him feel as awkward as she suddenly does.]
[ it is actually shockingly undignified for Trish, which might also be a component in his staring. As he thought, she's acting tough, but she's likely not feeling all that great in reality. Anyone would be thirsty and disoriented after sleeping for that long. The fact remains, however, that he has no idea what did this to her. As far as he can tell, this affliction hasn't befallen any other monsters, nor any townspeople. Some kind of illness only werebears can contract? But he's felt fine, for the most part...
He doesn't realize he's staring until she calls him out on it, at which point he sighs and bows his head, shutting his eyes briefly before glancing off to the side. ]
It's good that you're back, but not knowing what did this is frustrating.
[ since he doubts she's going to get up and walk around anytime soon, Bruno takes a seat on the floor, himself. ]
Keeping you safe is a priority for me. If there's something out here posing a threat to your life, then I need to identify it.
[It is, and she will be mortified about it later, but there's no time to think on that when she's being mortified over Bruno's staring instead.
Which he thankfully stops doing, and she huffs at him for good measure, as if to communicate the bear equivalent of "and stay out!". But he's sitting with her, and something about that...she knows Bruno has always been kind to her, but she didn't imagine he'd join her on the floor. It's not dignified, but Bruno seems to care about decorum until it stops being important, like now.
Just like that, some of the bluster evaporates off her shoulders.
More so when he makes that declaration, and she turns her own gaze to the side, clearly embarrassed.]
Well, staring at me isn't going to make it any clearer. Whatever happened isn't written on my face.
[There's no real bite to these comments. In fact, she sounds a similar kind of frustrated.]
But I don't think I'm in danger. Dying in my sleep would have been far too kind for this world.
[ she's not some sickly old woman or battle-scarred veteran - she's not even a bear, not really. She's just a normal teenage girl. There's no universe where he can accept that a peaceful death at fifteen would be kind to her. Bruno can hardly blame her for being so cynical, considering all that's happened to her; he also can't agree. His stubborn belief that she deserves better is what got both of them this far, and it seems it's not going away anytime soon. ]
If you don't think you're in danger for the moment, I'll believe you. But I'm keeping an eye on you for a while.
[ ... metaphorically. He's ceased his staring, and has politely-for-real-this-time directed his gaze towards the window and the sun shining through it. At least he's not so dense that he couldn't pick up on her embarrassment. ]
[That's the one thing that will ever be constant with Bruno. His unshakable belief in what's right, and in justice for the people who won't see it unless they reach for that justice with their own two hands, or if they can't...that he does it for them.
Trish doesn't say anything further, as bitter as she is, because Bruno is already worried, and speaking casually about dying probably won't do a damn thing to assuage that. It's not like she wants to either, but if the fog god decided she wasn't worth keeping around, what would stop her from letting his pink charge slip away, you know?
She watches him out of the corner of her eye, and when he looks away properly she lets her gaze slide back to study him, since she's the only one allowed to stare, apparently. She finds he's the same Bruno as always in the way he holds himself, although it's impossible to ignore the ursine features and his hand-paws, which are larger and more animal than hers even in the bright sun. She scoots back to lean against her bed, resting her hands in her lap.]
By "our condition", do you mean the fact we're both werebears? Because I doubt this is related.
[She believes in her shitty luck more than anything else. And if she's unsurprised by his insistence in watching her, he's likely unsurprised by her complaints.]
You're not going to linger in here all day, are you?
[Worse, if he makes shifts out of it between him and Fugo, she may perish from embarrassment!]
[ she's not wrong; it probably isn't related, seeing as he lives in the same house as her and has been completely fine. But he needs to start somewhere, and all the research he's managed has only shown him that it's not some curse from the "gods" nor some sleeping sickness affecting the city. That means it's probably some more specific quality about Trish. Since she never had any problems like this before (based on what he knows of her life in Italy, anyway), his next guess would be that it's related to something that happened to her here, and there is one singular, obvious change to consider.
It's pointless to bicker over it, however, especially because he's going to do it regardless of what Trish thinks. (Sorry, Trish.) Her following complaint draws his gaze back to her. ]
Are you planning to?
[ it's not clear if this is a "yes" or not, and, as usual, his expression gives very little away, although the slight tilt of his head might. ]
Bruno: i shan't fight / Trish: [rolling up her sleeves anyway]
[Trish has heard of people occasionally going into comas...but they all usually wind up in the graveyard when they awake from their "nap". But she's been here the whole time, asleep and not much worse for wear. And distinctly not covered in dirt, so it's not like anyone had to go unearthing her before dragging her back home.
She gets why Bruno is worried then, but the last thing she wants is to hold so much of his attention when he's given her that and so much more already. She would physically fight a virus and God if it meant Bruno Bucciarati wouldn't have to worry about her anymore.
Trish plants both of her hands on the floor, then, and meets the tilts of his head with a posture that is very much a challenge from the smaller werebear as she leans forward and hisses:]
You are not following me around outside of my room either.
[Absolutely not! It would be mortifying.
But she's the one sitting on the floor and complaining while he's in good shape, so what can she do to stop him, really? Of course, she has no idea he might also be worried because of what happened with the doubles. Something she knows nothing about. Hell, maybe she was asleep because one tried to poison her, since few of them were strong enough to fight a bear one on one.]
it's part of her charm
[ fortunately, he's used to dealing with fussy teens who are resistant to being taken care of (Fugo), so he takes it all in stride - something even easier to do when he's simply happy she's not dead, besides. She sounds so normal that he almost forgets she's about to shift when he opens the curtain. For Bruno, who'd been staying illuminated by the dim lighting in the room as best he could already, it simply makes the extra fur that had been creeping up past the perimeter of his suit and around his cheekbones vanish again. For Trish, though - well. She's gone all the way from bear to girl again. Fortunately, she's still clothed, unlike he usually is. Still, Bucciarati is suddenly aware that she probably doesn't like doing something so vulnerable in front of people. She's that type.
He meets her defiant gaze for a brief moment, then looks away again, near-politely, reaching one big paw out for the doorknob again. ]
... Don't hurt yourself, Trish. [ in other words: yes, you are awake, good job, now please stay that way. ] And don't fall asleep again before I come back.
its true. bruno likes fussy teens he has so many fussy teens
Transforming is vulnerable in so many senses too – the world disappears into a blur of pain, and she's always afraid it won't end...but it does.
Her low heart rate and blood pressure from being asleep for so long seems remedied at least, as the rush of adrenaline gets her blood moving again. Something tells her whatever sleep she fell into was a little scuffed, because not even on her worst days as a human did she struggle this much. But she's determined to get out of bed and stand for when Bruno comes back, watching him go with a small huff.
She emphatically does not accomplish her goal.
Well, she manages to stand, but the sudden change in blood pressure makes her dizzy immediately, and she ends up sitting on the floor and very confused about it. Bears are not immune to orthostatic hypotension.
When Bruno comes back, she's still there, but she is awake. That counts for something, right?]
...I think I'm dehydrated.
[This is the smallest, tiniest way of admitting that maybe...she should have waited for him.]
he's basically a fussy teen himself it's fine
Luckily, though, when he pushes the door open again, Trish is still lucid, even if she is sitting on the floor for some reason. This situation puzzles him briefly, which shows on his expression, but he disregards it after a second, kneeling down to hand her the water. ]
Probably.
[ it is, indeed, the fancy brand of mineral water she likes, and it even has a note on it in Fugo's handwriting telling other people not to drink it. He stays where he's squatting after handing it to her, watching her as if the cause of her sudden sleep might now have become obvious. (It's not.) ]
he sees himself in everyone....softe
Genuinely, the worst feeling in the world.
Thankfully, sitting on the floor actually encourages her to withstand the grogginess. Mostly because falling asleep on the floor is far more humiliating than being in a coma, in her teenager mind.
At least he doesn't say anything about her sitting on the floor, and he has water. She recognizes the familiar sweep of Fugo's handwriting, too, ever particular in making sure her things are labeled and in their proper place. She accepts it with zero hesitation, popping it open effortlessly and chugging it in the least graceful manner she's capable of. She had no idea it was possible to be this thirsty, and she'll finish the whole thing in no time at all.
Although...she is very aware of Bruno watching her as she takes one last gulp, slowly lowering the bottle once it's empty and returning his gaze, as if she can make him feel as awkward as she suddenly does.]
...You're staring.
[Stop that!!!]
no subject
He doesn't realize he's staring until she calls him out on it, at which point he sighs and bows his head, shutting his eyes briefly before glancing off to the side. ]
It's good that you're back, but not knowing what did this is frustrating.
[ since he doubts she's going to get up and walk around anytime soon, Bruno takes a seat on the floor, himself. ]
Keeping you safe is a priority for me. If there's something out here posing a threat to your life, then I need to identify it.
no subject
Which he thankfully stops doing, and she huffs at him for good measure, as if to communicate the bear equivalent of "and stay out!". But he's sitting with her, and something about that...she knows Bruno has always been kind to her, but she didn't imagine he'd join her on the floor. It's not dignified, but Bruno seems to care about decorum until it stops being important, like now.
Just like that, some of the bluster evaporates off her shoulders.
More so when he makes that declaration, and she turns her own gaze to the side, clearly embarrassed.]
Well, staring at me isn't going to make it any clearer. Whatever happened isn't written on my face.
[There's no real bite to these comments. In fact, she sounds a similar kind of frustrated.]
But I don't think I'm in danger. Dying in my sleep would have been far too kind for this world.
no subject
[ she's not some sickly old woman or battle-scarred veteran - she's not even a bear, not really. She's just a normal teenage girl. There's no universe where he can accept that a peaceful death at fifteen would be kind to her. Bruno can hardly blame her for being so cynical, considering all that's happened to her; he also can't agree. His stubborn belief that she deserves better is what got both of them this far, and it seems it's not going away anytime soon. ]
If you don't think you're in danger for the moment, I'll believe you. But I'm keeping an eye on you for a while.
[ ... metaphorically. He's ceased his staring, and has politely-for-real-this-time directed his gaze towards the window and the sun shining through it. At least he's not so dense that he couldn't pick up on her embarrassment. ]
Maybe some research on our condition is in order.
no subject
Trish doesn't say anything further, as bitter as she is, because Bruno is already worried, and speaking casually about dying probably won't do a damn thing to assuage that. It's not like she wants to either, but if the fog god decided she wasn't worth keeping around, what would stop her from letting his pink charge slip away, you know?
She watches him out of the corner of her eye, and when he looks away properly she lets her gaze slide back to study him, since she's the only one allowed to stare, apparently. She finds he's the same Bruno as always in the way he holds himself, although it's impossible to ignore the ursine features and his hand-paws, which are larger and more animal than hers even in the bright sun. She scoots back to lean against her bed, resting her hands in her lap.]
By "our condition", do you mean the fact we're both werebears? Because I doubt this is related.
[She believes in her shitty luck more than anything else. And if she's unsurprised by his insistence in watching her, he's likely unsurprised by her complaints.]
You're not going to linger in here all day, are you?
[Worse, if he makes shifts out of it between him and Fugo, she may perish from embarrassment!]
no subject
It's pointless to bicker over it, however, especially because he's going to do it regardless of what Trish thinks. (Sorry, Trish.) Her following complaint draws his gaze back to her. ]
Are you planning to?
[ it's not clear if this is a "yes" or not, and, as usual, his expression gives very little away, although the slight tilt of his head might. ]
Bruno: i shan't fight / Trish: [rolling up her sleeves anyway]
She gets why Bruno is worried then, but the last thing she wants is to hold so much of his attention when he's given her that and so much more already. She would physically fight a virus and God if it meant Bruno Bucciarati wouldn't have to worry about her anymore.
Trish plants both of her hands on the floor, then, and meets the tilts of his head with a posture that is very much a challenge from the smaller werebear as she leans forward and hisses:]
You are not following me around outside of my room either.
[Absolutely not! It would be mortifying.
But she's the one sitting on the floor and complaining while he's in good shape, so what can she do to stop him, really? Of course, she has no idea he might also be worried because of what happened with the doubles. Something she knows nothing about. Hell, maybe she was asleep because one tried to poison her, since few of them were strong enough to fight a bear one on one.]