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Is it already?

[ what's a school, jotaro. what's its purpose. giorno goes to the far end of the bar where there's a dart-board set up and starts playing with the darts. his aim isn't terrible, but it's decent nonetheless.

it's three in the morning. giorno thinks that if he tires himself enough he won't have dreams. that's a pretty good goal all things considered. he's not pointing out, out of some grudging respect to jotaro, the fact that he'd promised not to coddle him like he has any right to do so. the man accommodates his last-minute requests, that's a lot more than what he deserves, really.

while jotaro is bad at casual conversations, giorno is good at something else: dodging the truth where he finds it convenient like he's in the matrix. ]

The mirror, by the way, needs to be a certain height and width, and angled at a certain way so that by the time the door opens, one can immediately identify the guest. Gives me a few seconds to discern their outfit, which is also always interesting. What people carry with themselves in general is a matter of interest, don't you agree?

[ this monologue is punctured by giorno throwing darts. the last one he throws turns into a dove; it settles on the counter, hopping and pecking at the surface. giorno coaxes it to his hand. ] Do you have some breadcrumbs?

[ He really should take that board down. Only his employees use it, during the particularly slower nights, and it's in a spot where no one can easily spot it. He entertains their whims because he doesn't care so much, but he wonders if the ritzy image of the club is lessened by it. Well, they're good not to use it when things are actually busy and Giorno's ability isn't shabby.

Then the dove appears and he scowls almost immediately, small semblance of a good mood souring. What sort of ability just lets him turn a dart into an animal? ]

No. Get rid of it. [ The pen loosely in his grip is put down, the contract he was reading over completely disregarded now. ] Giorno, why are you here, middle of the night, and not asleep?

[He hates to think it, but he knows Giorno is already in contact with Dio. Could he have met with him early and is here now? It would make sense when Dio can't be out during the day.]

Why? It's not doing anything.

[ and in fact, the pigeon coos on the counter, and then settles on giorno's fingers, rubbing its head on its wings as it preens. giorno rubs its forehead gently, holding it like a magician. it pecks on his fingers, and giorno is careful with it, afraid to let it be crushed in his hands ...

at a flick of a wrist it turns into a scorpion, tail curled up as it scuttles across his hand. ]

I'm here because I can't sleep and I need company, and I haven't found the kind to replace the one I've got back home, who also wouldn't let me sleep.

You need to pay attention more. [ he says it without scolding him, though, just matter-of-fact. pay attention to ... any number of things. his words, the stories he tells, things he doesn't say. ]

[...Interesting. Scorpions and birds are far apart in the kingdoms, so can he just turn anything into an animal? ...Is it only limited to animals - he did create that tree when he first encountered him. Organic life in general perhaps?]

You're too young to be up so late. [Teenagers are such a pain. Even he didn't stay up so late into the night, and he was considered a bad one by most.] Fine. You can stay until we shutter for the night. That's three hours from now. But, you can't drop by ungodly hours like this again. No later than midnight next time.

[ the scorpion scuttles across the counter. giorno looks at it and for a brief moment, intends to tell him another moral, but the truth is that he's also tired and the past few days - hours, really - have been overwhelming, to say the least. the scorpion makes a back an forth trek from the counter, to his left hand, to his right hand again before it turns back into a dart, and giorno is now playing with its point. ]

His Stand is strong, fast, and precise. On top of that, he can stop time.

He said that it is dubious he had any sort of humanity to begin with. [ "he challenges me when it comes to protecting my own," giorno wanted to say, but that feels like a confession - a child's confession - and so he swallows the words back down like bile. ]

I told him my name and he doesn't recognize me at all - understandable. I am not seeking him out to reclaim whatever feelings I had about family at all. There is a reason why I said, in the first place, that I never asked for an ordinary life to begin with.

We drank wine.

I am his student now. [ there you go. ] No later than midnight - and he is strictly nocturnal.

Unless you can promise me that there will no longer be any fights, at all, where you and him are involved - which you can't, and you already established you don't like lying to begin with - dropping by ungodly hours is exactly what our relationship is going to be.

...Good grief.

[There's a lot he can say to that. Giorno doesn't know, for instance, that his Star Platnium is not much different from The World. That his claim of lacking humanity is of zero surprise, and shouldn't be to anyone. That being his "student" is absolutely stupid, and if Jotaro didn't know any better he would tell Giorno to leave just based on that alone. Maybe he doesn't know better, but he wants to believe Giorno is being upfront with him because he doesn't have some sinister ulterior motive. That he isn't being watched or stalked, the way he felt many times since Cairo.

So, he says "good grief" instead, to capture all of that, and takes a sip of his water before responding.]

You're choosing a schedule that revolves around him, and he doesn't even know you're his son. That's unbelievably sad. ["Sad" being a relative term. In reference to Dio, it's another way to say "pathetic." In reference to Giorno, it's synonymous with "pitiable."] Dio wakes up when the sun goes down, but I'm awake as early as 4pm some days. It doesn't need to be here that we meet, if you're really looking for someone to vent to.

[Because, that whole spew? Sounded a lot like frustrated venting to Jotaro.]

Do you have a better idea of letting me get close to him in a way that he will approve of? Tyrants listen to flattery. Beyond that, a good tyrant values ambition and challenges. Jotaro, he doesn't even believe that he died. But you and I both know that he did.

There is no guarantee that he will not find resources or friends within this world which will allow him to negate your efforts before I was born. I am powerful, but .... [ what to do. right now his father can certainly pummel him in the five seconds that the world can move. and beyond that .... he had just met him. not to mention as far as he's concerned jotaro is a civilian involved in his affairs even if jotaro doesn't perceive himself as such. what a conundrum. ]

And I didn't choose this schedule just because of him - I am used to this schedule. Back home, work forces me to keep odd hours, otherwise someone will die. I don't want your pity. [ he heard that in your tone. ]

But thank you. It's better to have a neutral place to meet at, probably. And preferably not my place. Last time I let someone into my room, he went away from Naples in fear, saying that he has to inform his Japanese friends. His name was Hirose Koichi, I believe.

[That's... not a name he thought he would hear, and his features are thankfully restrained enough to not visibly react. At least not his expression. His pinky finger slightly twitches, the only tell that he may know the name Giorno uttered. Why Koichi was in Naples, and how he come across Giorno, is something he doesn't dare ask. However if "Japanese friends" were involved, he has an awful suspicion that he had something to do with it.]

...Of course he doesn't believe he died. [He says with a venom in his words, reserved only when Dio becomes the topic of direct conversation.] No, rather, it could be that he hasn't "experienced" it yet.

I understand your reasons though. You want to keep an eye on him. Fine. However, you must be absolutely certain he never learns the truth of who you are to him. [He takes his glass and circles his hands around it, letting fingertips touch in the hold.] Dio is a monster who only cares about himself. He won't see you as his son, only as his enemy. ...You may come across a time where you'll need to fight him. If that happens, you can't hold yourself back. He won't do that for you.

[ pity. giorno, obviously, was keenly watching him, had wanted to see if the name would draw a reaction from him he can latch onto, like a bloodhound. as it stands, he leaves jotaro alone on that.

... maybe he's not so different from his father, after all. ]

He left Naples safely. [ that's all he'll say on that.

as for his warnings, well - ]

I highly doubt he'd quietly just accept me to be his student; he kept asking me if I wanted money, power, or revenge. He is suspicious, and rightfully so. And even if he finds out I were his son, provided he doesn't receive information as to who I really am, the damages incurred wouldn't be too bad for me.

How many deaths, or near-deaths, does someone need to experience before death becomes final to them?

I know that one day I might have to fight him. It'll probably be over something irreconcilable. Am I capable of killing him? Maybe. Probably. I won't be happy over it, but I didn't choose strength in order to be happy. I wanted to be powerful because I wanted to achieve my dreams. And I did. But that was before I got here. Now a different approach is required.

[ anything else, well. it's good that jotaro's here too.

the dart is now a rose. he places it on the counter. ] Let's play something.

[...What a bothersome, yet dangerous, child. Giorno is definitely his father's son. The only difference, and significant one it is, may be that Giorno doesn't seem interested in only taking things away from the world. He breathes life into something without any - there's something good in that. Jotaro has to believe in that. That Giorno is as much a Joestar as he is a Brando. If that's the case, then there's hope yet.]

A game? [He questions, hands leaving the glass and crossing against the counter.] What do you have in mind?

I don't know. Whatever you're up for - pool, cards, darts .... I'm familiar with a lot of them.

I'll play a round or two with you. Then I'll go home.

[ that's a promise. giorno slumps on the countertop, looking more like a child now that they're not talking about - the future, his past, Dio, himself. a tired child, really. something in him's still not going to let him sleep, but at least he's more acquiescent about the idea of sleeping. ]

[He silently appraises Giorno as the boy slumps, perhaps the lack of sleep finally getting a hold of him. Maybe something else too. To carry the world on one's shoulders is an exhausting effort. He personally can't stand it, which is why he works so hard to live normally. If you don't want normal though, you need to accept a certain burden. Giorno is too young for such a burden in Jotaro's eyes.]

...Wait here. I'll be back in a few.

[With that, he leaves the bar. While Giorno waits, the last remnants of people begin to pay their tabs, leave tips with the front and depart for the evening. The elderly man who brought Giorno in comes back out and bids him a good evening, before going back toward the front and preparing his own leave for the night. Not long after, Jotaro returns.]

You know how to play poker? I'm a little rusty myself.

Sure. It's late, I won't hold that against you.

[ more importantly, he knows how to cheat in it.

terrible. he's fond of the club now. this should be a lot more alarming to giorno, but then he remembers that in the span of a few weeks he was ready to kill for his newfound friends. sometimes a person can be so lonely that attaching yourself to the first thing that gives away heat and warmth seems like a strategy for survival. certain things are habitual. it's difficult to shake that off -

The weakness of others is inevitable. All humans have their weaknesses. Whether it's being too Good, wanting too much, hoping too hard. Needing something, wanting something, searching for safety and security. There is no guarantee.

- his father, apparently, does a good job of lingering in the back of his mind, and giorno just smiles to himself. ]

Good.

[He steps over toward the seating area and takes a seat at an empty table, inviting Giorno with a wave to sit across from him. It's been a while since he's done this, but shuffling doesn't take more than skillful handy work to it. Though he's not really interested in fancy tricks as the cards hit against each other in the mixing.]

Do you feel like wagering anything, or should we play without any stakes?

No stakes. I want to be able to sleep, Jotaro. Not stay up late planning for revenge.

[ is being petty a joestar trait, or a brando trait? who knows. seems like more of the latter.

he takes his seat across him, and takes the cards dealt for him. this is soothing, in a way. just playing cards with no stakes and both of them finally coming to the point where small talk is awkward late this time when all of the heavy stuff has finally been unloaded on the table. giorno feels lighter, oddly enough; but that could also be some sort of exhaustion, mental or emotional or otherwise, creeping in. ]

Good grief. You shouldn't have such ill thoughts.

[ "Revenge" as a concept sounds utterly exhausting. A bitter cycle where no one wins, someone just loses a little more than before. Jotaro takes a look at his cards and picks out two to trade, placing them face down and drawing from the top of the deck. His face betrays nothing. ]

How old are you, 64?

[ 'ill thoughts' my ass. a fifteen year old can afford 3 seasons and an OVA's worth of a vengeance storyline if ever. and giorno's face is just as inscrutable, too, if only because he's a lot more peaceful now that they're just playing.

he makes several timely calls and bluffs, and he wins it easily, revealing a good hand as he slides the cards across the table. ]

28.

[Though his hand wasn't up to par, that doesn't discourage him. He takes Giorno's cards and his, banishing them to the bottom of the deck before dealing out the next set. He takes a look at his hand and this time discards and takes three in exchange. Once more, his face is stone.]

[ a decade older. and he feels so much older than giorno can imagine him to be. maybe when he's 28 he'll have that kind of look on his face, too; though giorno is now more aware of the fact that jotaro is a lot kinder to others than giorno will ever be. a tragic fact of life.

giorno takes his cards, reads, determines they could be better. there's a slight movement where he briefly covers his other fingers and he adds and takes a card into his sleeve. and then he plays on. ]

--!

[In the second between the movement, a large arm storms to life in stardust and grabs Giorno's wrist with a sharp grip strong enough to break a wrist. The arm isn't Jotaro's however. It's a ghostly specter, shades of purple and blue, a white glove emblazoned with large golden studs. There's no body attached to it, but tracing from the hand to the arm shows it coming out from Jotaro's right shoulder.]

...Tsk, tsk. [He waves a finger with his free hand, slamming the cards in his other faced down.] You cheated.

[And the hand around Giorno's wrist tightens a little harder.]

[ so this is jotaro's stand. how powerful. giorno gets caught unawares, the cards slipping from his hands - and more cards slipping from his sleeves should splat start shaking him - down onto the table. he looks - not guilty. just annoyed that he was caught.

giorno sighs. taps on the big purple hand holding his wrist with a finger. ]

So I did. I'm so sorry, Mr. Kujo. It won't happen again. [ friendly reminder that giorno giovanna is a shit. ]

Are you gonna let me post bail, Mr. Kujo? Or do I need to call a lawyer?

[The arm vanishes in the same burst of star, freeing Giorno, but Jotaro continues to look unamused.]

Why did you cheat?

[ now giorno just looks confused. ]

Are you seriously asking that?

I do it all the time. You're not the first.

[Jotaro, in turn, looks exasperated.]

We aren't playing with stakes, you have nothing to gain out of it. So why cheat?

Because I can.

[ he returns the cards to the deck and shuffles it easily. he places it back onto the table, where a single tap of the finger can easily dissolve it into ants, or bees. as it stands, giorno just taps it with his index finger thoughtfully. ] Because I'm not kind.

Good evening, Jotaro. Or should I say good morning? ... well, it doesn't matter now.

[ gonna leave now. he yawns, finally giving up and conceding to being tired. ]

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jojoceanman - 2017-09-08 01:39 (UTC) - Expand

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tropism - 2017-09-08 01:42 (UTC) - Expand