[Vergil heaves a sigh once Nero is gone, allowing himself to slump a little more where he sits on the couch. He remains convinced that this is Thirteen's doing, which means it's not likely something he can just wait out like one would a normal illness of this magnitude. There has to be something that needs to be done before his symptoms will truly abate. But what is he meant to do like this? If he can barely walk without feeling the world sway beneath his feet, there's not much hope for being able to really engage with others as so often tends to be the solution.]
[It's only a few minutes ultimately that he spends pondering this condition in Nero's absence. With little ability to investigate himself right now, he sets it aside to read instead. By the time Nero returns, Vergil is more or less exactly where Nero left him. He occupies the same corner of the couch, but has left a leg extended on the couch itself. At some point, he poured himself a second cup of tea, but it's since been forgotten and left to go cold while the glass of water Nero brought him remains untouched. It's not some form of childish protest, however, that he's neglecting any further liquid intake. He's nearly a hundred pages deep already into his novel, and it's likely clear from how he does not look up from the book in his hands or say anything by way of greeting that he is merely engrossed rather than being particularly stubborn.]
[At the very least, no aerobics happened and he stayed put.]
[Once Nero is a couple steps into the house, he finally speaks albeit somewhat absentmindedly.]
Did you manage alright without the truck?
[He finishes the page before finally looking over to Nero.]
no subject
[It's only a few minutes ultimately that he spends pondering this condition in Nero's absence. With little ability to investigate himself right now, he sets it aside to read instead. By the time Nero returns, Vergil is more or less exactly where Nero left him. He occupies the same corner of the couch, but has left a leg extended on the couch itself. At some point, he poured himself a second cup of tea, but it's since been forgotten and left to go cold while the glass of water Nero brought him remains untouched. It's not some form of childish protest, however, that he's neglecting any further liquid intake. He's nearly a hundred pages deep already into his novel, and it's likely clear from how he does not look up from the book in his hands or say anything by way of greeting that he is merely engrossed rather than being particularly stubborn.]
[At the very least, no aerobics happened and he stayed put.]
[Once Nero is a couple steps into the house, he finally speaks albeit somewhat absentmindedly.]
Did you manage alright without the truck?
[He finishes the page before finally looking over to Nero.]