Welcome to Gaia! ::

Robyn blinked, although the action would be invisible to the others in the room. Curiouser and curiouser. She watched the letters unscramble themselves into something she was actually capable of reading. Now that the purpose of the glasses was revealed, her face actually split into a grin. "Cooooool..." While not exactly a tech head, Robyn could definitely appreciate a good toy. Not that this was a toy, no, certainly not, but it was definitely cool. Already, she was wondering if it would work on her own voice; she wanted to see how good of a job the translator could do with Japanese. Maybe she'd get Ry to try them on....

Her attention was brought back to Dan, currently holding his hand out, and she remembered what the message had been. With a nod, she held her hand out as well, and shook the boy's. Not that she exactly forgave Dan for the excrutiating pain he had caused her, but she could at least understand that it wasn't personal. "Sure, now's fine to talk. It's not like I have someplace to be, after all."

She glanced at Rylen again, flicking her ears in another silent message. "Everything's fine, but don't leave." There were a couple seats in the room, but she figured the half-wolf would be just as likely to lean against the wall rather than sit.

"Hmm..." Robyn mulled the situation over after she was done reading the translated speech. On the one hand, she liked helping people out, and, outside of the match, Dan didn't seem half bad. On the other, she'd be basically letting someone copy her, duplicate her moves and abilities. Oh, she knew it was all physical, that she wouldn't exactly be giving anything away, but it still gave her pause.

Sighing, the fox shook her head, but it wasn't a negatory gesture. "D'ya mind if I take some time ta think about it?" Considering she wasn't in top shape as it was, and, since it wasn't like he could use it in his next match if indeed, he had won, she didn't think waiting a little bit would hurt. "I'll get back to ya before the start of the next match, whichever one of us goes on." There were only two days between matches, and her injuries weren't as hard to fix (for her) as last round, so she thought she should be good by then. And that gave her plenty of time to decided whether she was comfortable with sharing her skill.

The nurses doped Thurgood up, set him on a morphine drip (with a much higher dose than recommended) then moved him to a double room which is empty for right now, but the other person will be somebody annoying that the staff doesn't want to deal with.

Robyn shook her head slightly, her still-braided hair mimicing the movement. "Nah, I'm good. I just need to get them things taken out; my body'll take care of the rest. Only needed 'em because the time between the last match and ours was so short. A day or so now and the bone'll be good as new." With a not-exactly-friendly smile, but a smile nonetheless, she nodded at Dan, and had he been able to (or if he could) see her green eyes behind the shades, the piercing green mixed with a slightly glowing red would be watching him intently. "Anyways, like I said, I'll get back ta ya. Now, if ya don't mind, I think I'd like some time with my friend." Whether it was latent animosity, or just Selene acting up as usual, the demon was pressing against her boundaries pretty hard. Robyn was much more comfortable with Rylen being around than a guy who had caused her pain (not that she blamed him). Especially since Rylen could handle her and himself if things got messy. Not to mention, he knew about the demon, so he would also be able to tell the medics what was required to stop her.

They'd been through a lot together, and she trusted him. The vixen flashed Rylen a fanged smile, ears perking up slightly. She must look like a dork with those glasses on, but she didn't care. It didn't matter what you looked like, it was how you held yourself, and Robyn exuded confidence like no one else, most of the time, at least.

Turning back to Dan, she gave a slight bow of her head: the most respect she could muster while half-lying down on a hospital bed.

Why did everything sound so much more respectful in Japanese? Maybe it was the fact her casual southern accent all but disappeared; her Japanese was spoken flawlessly. As it was, she was an honorable person, and whether she liked the results or not, she had to give her opponent credit for his successful tactics.

Outside the Infirmary..

In the park grounds that served as a scenic front lawn of sorts for the, Deitric reclined back on a bench. Dressed in a plain pair of jeans and an over-large button-up T-shirt, he looked as if he were on vacation, if not for the fact that there was a man with an expensive looking camera trying his best to bother the tribesman.

"Just one photo, for the newsp--"

"Not right now."

"But.."

"No."

"Listen-"

Abruptly, Deitric leaned forward and yanked the camera out of the man's hand, hurling it hard over the protesting man's shoulder, somewhere off into the decorative shrubbery. The newspaper reporter looked to where the camera had flown, then back at the man on the bench.

"That cost five thousand gold!" he cried as he hurried off to retrieve his camera.

"Bill me," the brave grunted, spitting into a cup that was sitting on the bench beside him. It looked as if he were using tobacco dip, but when he spat, it was a distinct red that was too clear to be blood, but certainly wasn't the right color for tobacco. His right hand was wrapped in gauze and smelled strongly of various magical and medical unguents to aid in healing the burns he had given himself, and small, thread thin barbs of stitching poked out around the cut on his chin. Beneath the shirt he wore, the right side of his chest was heavily patched, with wrapping around his torso to keep the padding in place.

If Shinji crutched his way along the winding path through the park long enough, he'd find his opponent on the bench still, seemingly asleep, except for the occasional shift in movement when he tilted his head to spit the dip into the cup.

Thunk.

The camera narrowly avoided avoided braining Shinji square in the face, smashing to pieces a couple of feet to the left side of his head. The swift padding of feet indicated that someone was following after the camera and arrived on the scene a moment later.

"Dammit, it's broke-.. Hey, aren't you Shinji Tawara?" the man looming over the monk asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. He was dressed in a suit that was only a little too big - the right size, but not custom tailored.

"Do you need some help up? I'm from the Daily Durem newspaper," he explained offering out his hand to help haul the fallen monk up to his feet, grabbing the man's crutch where it had landed.

After hauling the fighter back to his feet and returning his crutch, the reporter stepped back. He looked at the broken remains of his camera with consternation before turning his attention back to Shinji.

"No, I was just over here to get my camera, your second round opponent - er, Deitric Jocasta - threw it over here when I wouldn't take no for an answer about getting a photograph for the Durem Daily," he explained with a sigh, reaching up to scratch his head with one hand while motioning behind him with the other to the man on the bench some number of yards behind him.

"I would ask you for the same, but.. the camera's broke, obviously," the reporter looked destitute and wandered over to gather up the remaining pieces of his camera. "Perhaps I could get an interview with you sometime? Here's my card, get in touch if you're interested," he offered, dropping a few pieces of camera to offer a card before trundling off to try and find himself a new camera.

For his part, Deitric wasn't even paying attention - he'd procured a small paperback book from somewhere, and was eyes deep in reading.

Rylen watched in grim silence as Dan Luca finally exited the room, keeping his crimson eyes on the Al Bhed and his mechanical pet the entire time. After the both of them disappeared down the hall, Rylen turned his attention back to Robyn. He stepped up to the side of her bed and gave the fox-girl a skeptical look--one presumably directed at the whole affair of her wily opponent coming to visit her in the infirmary with his high-tech peace offering. Then again, Rylen was just the type to always look for some kind of ulterior motive in the kindness from a stranger, and worse yet from a stranger that tried to make your ears bleed. He could not keep himself from cocking an eyebrow when their eyes met, hers mostly hidden behind computerized goggles.

It did not help that she did indeed look like a bit of a dork with them on.

"You look funny." Rylen said bluntly. But he quickly recalled the kind of torture Robyn had gone through in her fight, and why she needed a whiteboard in the room in the first place. He did not give her much of a chance to respond, if she even understood him at all, as he gestured for her to wait a moment before he scooped up a marker from a nearby table. He then furiously scribbled something down on the whiteboard, his bushy tail swaying passively. When he turned back to Robyn, he held the whiteboard up for her to see his message clearly. It read:

You look funny.

His crimson eyes peered over the top of the whiteboard, his expression completely deadpan in contrast to his blatant jest.