[ she's surprisingly personable when she's not being kidnapped by the mafia and subsequently trying to kill her estranged father before he can kill her. Funny, that. He was prepared for her to be more prickly towards him, and towards the others, too, if only in conversation. ]
I see. [ he can't quite tell if that's a fond recollection or an irritated one... maybe neither. It had been a whirlwind. Regardless, at the mention, he can hear their voices, too, clear and alive in his mind, and all he can do is hope he won't forget any time soon. He won't see them again. The knowledge is always sitting in the corner of his mind like a demon at the edge of his bed; he does his best to pretend it isn't there.
He did what he could. He did what he had to. He redirects, keeps his focus on the moment at hand. ] They've always been like that. Looking at them, you could almost forget they were gangsters. But they could laugh like that because they had the confidence to do their job.
[ Resolve, one might say. He says it all somewhat like a reminder; offhand comments about Mista's singing aside, he hears what Trish is saying and has been saying about what happened in his absence: she's cutting herself from the mob. That's the best course of action, and though he may like to reminisce about his boys, perhaps it's best if he doesn't humanize them too much. He doesn't want her to end up like Narancia. ]
I can see you have that confidence, as well. [ a beat. ] Are you going to work here?
[ the refugees certainly seem like they're expecting it. Bruno is also slightly expecting it - as always, his expectations are high - but Trish is outside of his sphere of influence somewhat. ]
no subject
I see. [ he can't quite tell if that's a fond recollection or an irritated one... maybe neither. It had been a whirlwind. Regardless, at the mention, he can hear their voices, too, clear and alive in his mind, and all he can do is hope he won't forget any time soon. He won't see them again. The knowledge is always sitting in the corner of his mind like a demon at the edge of his bed; he does his best to pretend it isn't there.
He did what he could. He did what he had to. He redirects, keeps his focus on the moment at hand. ] They've always been like that. Looking at them, you could almost forget they were gangsters. But they could laugh like that because they had the confidence to do their job.
[ Resolve, one might say. He says it all somewhat like a reminder; offhand comments about Mista's singing aside, he hears what Trish is saying and has been saying about what happened in his absence: she's cutting herself from the mob. That's the best course of action, and though he may like to reminisce about his boys, perhaps it's best if he doesn't humanize them too much. He doesn't want her to end up like Narancia. ]
I can see you have that confidence, as well. [ a beat. ] Are you going to work here?
[ the refugees certainly seem like they're expecting it. Bruno is also slightly expecting it - as always, his expectations are high - but Trish is outside of his sphere of influence somewhat. ]