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[There's enough of an overlap that Bruno can piece together the parts that he doesn't already know to make coherent sense of what Polnareff is saying to him in French. But with the closer-to-normal pace of speaking, Bruno's attention does dart quickly to Polnareff's mouth and then back again to track what he's saying.]
Pasta, mussels, mushrooms. No sweets, [he repeats back, a little slower than Polnareff said them.] What next?
Pasta, mussels, mushrooms. No sweets, [he repeats back, a little slower than Polnareff said them.] What next?
This would be easier in the kitchen . . .
[He says that mostly to himself, although props to Bruno if he follows that. A beat, and Polnareff reaches over, grabbing for a notebook and a pen. It's a notebook filled with doodles and old games of hangman and tic-tac-toe, for all those nights he and Jotaro can't sleep.
Flipping to a new page, he draws a series of crude but somewhat recognizable fruits: an apple, an orange, a banana, a lemon, a pineapple.]
Right. Right, okay, so that's-- apple, plural apples. Lemon, plural lemons . . .
He goes through each one, saying the singular and then the plural, letting Bruno hear the difference in articles between each one. At least Italian has the concept of grammatical gender; that won't be so strange to Bruno.]
Try and repeat some back.
[He says that mostly to himself, although props to Bruno if he follows that. A beat, and Polnareff reaches over, grabbing for a notebook and a pen. It's a notebook filled with doodles and old games of hangman and tic-tac-toe, for all those nights he and Jotaro can't sleep.
Flipping to a new page, he draws a series of crude but somewhat recognizable fruits: an apple, an orange, a banana, a lemon, a pineapple.]
Right. Right, okay, so that's-- apple, plural apples. Lemon, plural lemons . . .
He goes through each one, saying the singular and then the plural, letting Bruno hear the difference in articles between each one. At least Italian has the concept of grammatical gender; that won't be so strange to Bruno.]
Try and repeat some back.
Ho un sacco di mio spazio. Io davvero non sarebbe dispiaciuto e dubito Polnareff sarebbe dispiaciuto neanche. Ma mi rendo conto che tu sia premuroso.
[He lets go of Giorno, though not without giving his shoulder a short squeeze.]
Sei un bravo ragazzo.
[He lets go of Giorno, though not without giving his shoulder a short squeeze.]
Sei un bravo ragazzo.
[Bruno at least catches something about something being easier. So, he's not entirely sure what it is Polnareff's intending to do with the notebook he grabs until he's already drawn the first fruit. He leans a little closer as Polnareff names each of them, singular and plural, and repeats them back when he's asked to. All except for pineapple.]
Pineapple is the same in Italian.
Pineapple is the same in Italian.
I told you we have some words in common! I'm telling you, the more you study, the more you're going to find it's all down to just learning how to mouth the letters right. Which--
[He fixes him with a somewhat stern look.]
Stop rolling your R's. This is French, not Spanish.
[He fixes him with a somewhat stern look.]
Stop rolling your R's. This is French, not Spanish.
I'll be listening. Points off for every R that's not one short consonant.
[He leans back again, though, leaving the notebook between them.]
What do you read? What types of books?
[There's no television programs to listen to, which was how he'd picked up English-- but books, maybe, will help.]
I'm not going to give you Les Miserables. It's the French book, but you could kill a man with it and no book needs to be that thick.
[He leans back again, though, leaving the notebook between them.]
What do you read? What types of books?
[There's no television programs to listen to, which was how he'd picked up English-- but books, maybe, will help.]
I'm not going to give you Les Miserables. It's the French book, but you could kill a man with it and no book needs to be that thick.
[Bruno arches an eyebrow at the mention of Les Miserables. While he couldn't say exactly what Polnareff is saying about it, his tone conveys plenty. And yet, there would be zero disagreements out of Bruno. He might not be either well-educated or particularly well-read, but even he knows only a fool would read that for fun.]
I didn't read much before, [he admits, slowly, as he leans back himself.]
[A combination of a limited education and a significant lack of time.]
So, I'm not picky.
I didn't read much before, [he admits, slowly, as he leans back himself.]
[A combination of a limited education and a significant lack of time.]
So, I'm not picky.
All right. I mean, I'm assuming the library has stuff in French. They have sports biographies from the future, why not French books?
[. . .]
God, I bet there's only Les Miserables.
[. . .]
God, I bet there's only Les Miserables.
[He lets out a grumbling, wordless little noise. It's nonspecific, but suggests that he's a little annoyed a copy of the book is appearing in their house at all.]
If I find you a crime drama, are you gonna judge me for it?
If I find you a crime drama, are you gonna judge me for it?
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