[Trench isn't some big metropolis - or at least, the Sleeper population isn't city-tier. More on the line of a village, she had previously debated if she could attempt anonymity with what she does at night. It didn't seem feasible in the end, especially considering powers from both their blood and others' varying world of origin, but she proceeded as usual anyway. The mindset helps with this kind of work, and in some part, with managing mental corruption too.
But people in this 'business' sure can agree on never wanting to falter in front of another, yes. How can you protect a city if you can't look after yourself? She wouldn't blame him, but she understands. There's only a sliver of relief - that this is happening in front her where she can do something to help, rather than on his lonesome away from where anyone can lend a hand. For that would surely be the worst alternative, struggling alone with a unknown affliction never experienced before.]
...Easy. Please don't force yourself, sit down if it may help. [It's fine if this gets messy. Obtaining Trench-appropriate hunting gear was among the first things she did, commissioning a robe similar in design to her habit with better protective material and starting to wear gloves as advised by the locals.]
Our bodies changed when we awoke in this world, a lot can affect us in inexplicable ways here. [The taro buns were benign, the shedding less so, and she's sure she'll bear witness to plenty more for as long as she retains her sense of self under this Pthumerian sky. More importantly, what more can she do for him? He doesn't seem to be in danger of choking on his own blood, but he can't exactly be called stable, either. Would a local blood minister be of any help...?]
no subject
But people in this 'business' sure can agree on never wanting to falter in front of another, yes. How can you protect a city if you can't look after yourself? She wouldn't blame him, but she understands. There's only a sliver of relief - that this is happening in front her where she can do something to help, rather than on his lonesome away from where anyone can lend a hand. For that would surely be the worst alternative, struggling alone with a unknown affliction never experienced before.]
...Easy. Please don't force yourself, sit down if it may help. [It's fine if this gets messy. Obtaining Trench-appropriate hunting gear was among the first things she did, commissioning a robe similar in design to her habit with better protective material and starting to wear gloves as advised by the locals.]
Our bodies changed when we awoke in this world, a lot can affect us in inexplicable ways here. [The taro buns were benign, the shedding less so, and she's sure she'll bear witness to plenty more for as long as she retains her sense of self under this Pthumerian sky. More importantly, what more can she do for him? He doesn't seem to be in danger of choking on his own blood, but he can't exactly be called stable, either. Would a local blood minister be of any help...?]