[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she'd been touch and go. blood loss and exhaustion kept her from stirring through most of it, even with the anesthetic used during surgery. and when she finally comes to, it's with a jolt and a sharp gasp.

"fuck," she hisses a moment later as her body surges back to life with an onslaught of pain. fuck, that'll hurt for weeks. she's confused, that much is obvious. and while a faint smile rises at the sight of the luxray curled at her legs, she knows this isn't home and that beeping machine beside her is fucking obnoxious.

it takes a few minutes for her to notice him, to sense his presence and whip her head around to face him. of course, when she does, she has to stop, has to give her vision a minute to right itself and come back into full swing. and when it does, she's opening her mouth before thinking about what she can even say. naturally, the first thing that comes up just pops right out.

"you look like hell," she comments. it's funny, kind of. she looks way worse than him, bandaged and battered. a few cuts had even reopened with her jostling but she doesn't notice the mild stains of red on pristine white for now. instead, she'll sigh and sink a little into the pillows at her back. "thank you." he won't hear it again so cherish it while you can.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","lance"]

[attr="class","lance b"]

[attr="class","lance i"]"good morning."

he looks up from the magazine he's reading the moment she surges back to life. he offers her a smile, if only to be polite, before chuckling at her comment, which he really should not have done because the chuckle sends pain echoing across his body, centered around his right rib cage.

"and you look lovely," he returns. the mild stains of red don't go unnoticed but he chooses to ignore them for the time being, understanding that it's most likely minor cuts that have reopened.

his eyes return to the magazine, skimming it as he speaks. "you weren't in the system, so i took a guess at your last name. brown?"

giada morgan

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]a laugh escapes him and naturally, she adds her own into the mix because that's what she knows, that's the move she always follows. a laugh for a laugh, a smile for a smile, a wallet stolen while they're distracted. the same course, the same outcome. except, she's stuck in a hospital bed and he's probably not on her list of targets. and sure, the laugh hurts a little but probably not as much as his.

"i try my best to look good even when i just got the shit kicked out of me," she drawls and her eyes roam. most of her body is covered by a blanket but she can imagine the state. claw wounds newly stitched and the remnants of a knife dragging itself across her skin. ugh, great. she goes to move her hands if only to pet her luxray but it's a little hard to do that when her dominant hand is bandaged and wrapped up in a makeshift cast. great, just fucking peachy.

her eyes dart away from her body to find him skimming his magazine, idly talking as he goes. her nose scrunches. "sure, we'll go with that." better to use a fake one than the real one, right? even if it's simple and sounds fake. a thought rises and she's tilting her head slightly. vision spots but it's minor and she ignores it. "why're you still here?"

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","lance"]

[attr="class","lance b"]

[attr="class","lance i"]"because i care about you."

his words are drenched, sarcasm practially dripping, as he responds to her question with a sigh. he flips the page of the magazine, now on an article with tips on how to get over a breakup.

"what were you doing out there?"

he wasn't given much time to consider it when he first ran into her, but he has since then. he has his theories but he'd rather not reveal them until he hears more from her.

"it seems like an odd place to be dressed in a catsuit. not to mention the whip," he raises the bandaged arm up. "which stung, by the way."

giada morgan

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]okay, that's fucking hilarious! the barked laughter that escapes is definitely genuine and not part of a game. in fact, it's almost a surprised kind of thing, like she didn't expect that answer and her first instinct is to just laugh it off. which, she really does.

"man, that's good," she murmurs after the laughter finally dies out. and then, he wastes almost no time in diving into questions. she's come to expect them by now. at least, when it involves people who are strangers. and maybe that's what made his sarcasm so hilarious. him, caring about her? next joke. actually, men caring about her? ha, funny.

her eyes drift away from him to the luxray at her legs and she's ignoring the cast by now, simply just brushing it across the dark fur. it earns a content purr and the further stretching of a cat into legs. cutie. "oh, you know," she begins and she tries to keep it innocent but her and innocent don't mix and it sounds weird. "working." technically, it's not a lie. she really was working but not in the same way he had been.

a half sigh, half laugh escapes and she's returning her gaze to him with a grin. it's unrepentant, the thought of hurting him nowhere on her list of things to care about. "that's my usual getup, didn't you know?" he didn't and doesn't but it's fine, it'll go over as sarcasm anyway. "you'll survive." is all she offers in regards to his bandaged arm. yep, he's definitely surviving. she feels no remorse, not even a little. in fact, the grin widens and she's fixing him with a curious stare. "since you're asking all these questions, i'll ask some of my own. were you following me or the trail of blood?"

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","lance"]

[attr="class","lance b"]

[attr="class","lance i"]her barked laughter is loud and abrasive and it makes him feel sorry for the patient in the next room. it does catch him off guard, however, and leaves him wondering even more things about her.

"should i have been following you?"

as expected, her answers are vague and give him little information. he doesn't even make it halfway through the page before closing the magazine, sighing. he discards it off to the table next to them.

"trail of blood, like you. i ended up finding the body not too far off from where we were. clawed to shreds, which you almost were had i not been there."

he's making an assumption but he's confident he has it right. there was no other reason for her to be out there if not for the athlete. he does quickly consider that she might have been there for the other man, but the way they regarded each other makes it unlikely. which is why he doesn't expect much out of his next question, but he asks it anyways, to cover his bases.

"did you know the person who attacked us?"

giada morgan

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"fuck if i know," she retorts. should he have been following her? probably not but who knows, right? she leans a little further into pillows in an attempt to get comfortable. lord knows she won't be leaving this bed for a week. "maybe, maybe not?" realistically, she wasn't up to anything bad. just doing a job, which isn't exactly grounds for being followed but people are weird and she's not gonna argue over it.

ah, yes. the body. the moment she saw that scene she knew it wasn't a matter of finding a person. only a body, probably in tatters. at least the mission is complete, right? she'll still get the money, even if it'll only go towards medical bills. great... she'll need another job soon. damn, nice one gia.

"makes you wonder," she murmurs, distracted. why the man? why like that? "what the angle was." there's always an angle, always a point in the pain. sometimes to learn and sometimes to understand but always to feel it where it hurts. and maybe she feels a little sorry about not having found the man sooner but there's no way to know if they could have prevented the same outcome from occurring. she chalks it up to a loss and ignores the mild sense of morals as they come. they're not good for anything, anyway.

a scoff comes next as he hits her with another question. "obviously not," she's firm in the delivery, as if she would never associate with a man like that. well, she probably has but that's beside the point. the aggressive nature of the man and his pokemon left a sour taste in mouth. almost like it was past the point that anyone can handle and drifting into psychotic territory. which, realistically it probably was but there was something about it that doesn't quite fit. maybe the motive, which has still yet to be touched upon. "you got an idea on why this happened in the first place? or are you as stumped as i am?"

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","lance"]

[attr="class","lance b"]

[attr="class","lance i"]"i don't know. paid job, maybe?"

it's about a good a guess as any with the amount of information they have. he can't figure it out: why kill someone in such a brutal manner? he was barely able to recognize the athlete, if not for the blue hair. he could practically feel the rage behind it—actually, they both experienced it first hand.

she denies ever being familiar with the attacker and he believes her. he finds no value in pressing further, so he decides to continue with another question. but she is quick to interject with one of her own that makes him lean back, contemplating.

"no idea. i don't even know his name. we're doing an autopsy now to determine if he was on anything when he attacked us. but honestly, it didn't seem like he was." he pauses. "he just felt...angry."

it felt unprecedented. unnatural. it won't do as much as to keep him up at night but it'll always be an unanswered question. one of many, really.

"anyways, the victim's family still has to be notified, but other than that, you're free to go. or well, recover."

giada morgan

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]paid job. gears churn in her mind a little at the thought. who'd pay to have an athlete killed in such a way? she's no stranger to dirty work like that but really, it just seemed like overkill. it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. maybe dread or maybe just the notion that she'd almost been a victim herself. actually, she was technically a victim but it's fine. everything's fine.

"who'd pay for that shit, though?" she murmurs her thoughts out to him, nose scrunching. "do athletes even have enemies? kinda seems weird." unless it was for a different reason. man, all this thinking makes her brain hurt. no more, please.

he did feel angry, that much was certain. his tyranitar even felt livid and brutal. like pokemon like trainer, she supposes but why? why so angry? ugh, more thinking. she has to hide a grimace as she shifts, bandages rubbing uncomfortably against sheets. "makes you wonder if he was angry over being caught or simply just an angry shithead," she muses. was he always angry or did something set him off? a trigger can come in any form but what was his? she doesn't want to think about it anymore.

her luxray purrs a little louder and snuggles closer to her legs. a faint smile rises at the movement, her eyes darting over and then back to lance. the laugh she lets out is soft, almost tired. there are no complaints on her end. actually, maybe one. when the fuck can she leave?

"i'll be sure to get right on that," giada snorts. it'll take a while before she's at full capacity again but... the tv has been calling her name for a week now so maybe she'll finally get the chance to catch up on missed shows. mmm, yes. there's a moment of pause, of mild hesitation, before she's flashing him a full, genuine smile. "thank you, again, for saving my ass back there." she wouldn't have survived otherwise, that much is a concrete concept.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","lance"]

[attr="class","lance b"]

[attr="class","lance i"]there are too many unknown variables for him to even consider feeling complacent about the incident. he'll continue investigating but he doubts he'd find anything substantial. the mystery might just have to be left unsolved.

"don't mention it."

he stands, chair shifting back as he does. the luxray at the foot of the bed is spared a curt glance. "if you need anything, just call this number and ask for lance vollans." he extends over a card with the number for the rangers' office, handwritten. no address, though.

smiling, he turns and walks out the door.

giada morgan