[He glances around the room briefly, apparently concentrating on something. It takes a little work, because they're not outside, but . . . there's wood in the walls, of course, and there's always some kind of vegetation around, even if you can't see it. After a moment, he puts a hand in his pocket and draws out a few buttons, then lays them on the ground next to his foot before toeing his shoe off. He presses the sole of his foot down to cover them, and—]
[There's a brief glow, and the sense that something's shifting, like the feeling of standing in the middle of a thick forest during the spring thaw but accelerated times ten.]
[And then, all of a sudden, the floor is carpeted with tulips, so thick that the floor's no longer visible; they're yellow-orange and crawl halfway up the walls, open and facing Giorno as though he is the sun.]
no subject
[He glances around the room briefly, apparently concentrating on something. It takes a little work, because they're not outside, but . . . there's wood in the walls, of course, and there's always some kind of vegetation around, even if you can't see it. After a moment, he puts a hand in his pocket and draws out a few buttons, then lays them on the ground next to his foot before toeing his shoe off. He presses the sole of his foot down to cover them, and—]
[There's a brief glow, and the sense that something's shifting, like the feeling of standing in the middle of a thick forest during the spring thaw but accelerated times ten.]
[And then, all of a sudden, the floor is carpeted with tulips, so thick that the floor's no longer visible; they're yellow-orange and crawl halfway up the walls, open and facing Giorno as though he is the sun.]