[He wonders if it's like this with everyone and Giorno. If he'll say a few words and suddenly everyone gets that one moment, that slight shift and tick in gears that makes understanding so much easier.
This time, it's not a leap of logic so much as an emotional connection. Giorno glances down, and when he meets his gaze again his tone is . . . well. Still removed, yeah, but less so, and it feels like they've taken a step closer to one another. I apologize, and it's like something in Polnareff unwinds. Polnareff relaxes slightly against the chair, his shoulders going down. A slight exhale, then, and he nods in acceptance.
As for the rest . . . well. He can't argue with it, no matter how much he wants to. The world isn't split so evenly between good and bad, despite what he'd like to think. I am not a Joestar, and that means more than just bloodlines. It's a line in the sand between Jonathan and Dio, and Giorno does indeed toe that line.
(He wonders, selfishly, what side Giorno considers his consigliere on. What he thought an older Polnareff would do, when push came to shove).
My acceptability is conditional, and maybe it's harder for him to see, coming in when he did, seeing Jotaro already so accepting of Giorno, no apparent strings attached. Certainly he'd never thought about it before last night.
What you want. Well. That was a little harder to define. I want to understand who you are now and who I'm used to; I want things to be back to normal; I want to be someone you can talk to. ]
[He frowns slightly, not at Polnareff but down at the back of his hand on the table. Then his lips twitch into an uncertain smile.]
Most people where I come from aren't interested in mending. Just bending or breaking, you know? So I'm not sure . . .
[To mend this between us. That means that he is a priority, in Polnareff's eyes. He is the end goal. He has to sit with that for a moment before he can respond.]
It's difficult for me to not . . . to understand. The way you do, the way Jotaro does, the way Kakyoin does. To see . . . what it's like to look at a child and see something to be eliminated. There's too much—
[He breathes in sharply, out slowly.]
Bruno would be upset with me if I thought like that. If I treated a child like a monster. And after he died, I swore to myself to uphold his values unless it was absolutely necessary that I not do so, for the sake of his memory and his spirit. So the closer I brush up against it, that mentality, the more it feels like stepping on nails.
That's not an answer to your question. But I think I . . . have to start from there, to move forward.
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This time, it's not a leap of logic so much as an emotional connection. Giorno glances down, and when he meets his gaze again his tone is . . . well. Still removed, yeah, but less so, and it feels like they've taken a step closer to one another. I apologize, and it's like something in Polnareff unwinds. Polnareff relaxes slightly against the chair, his shoulders going down. A slight exhale, then, and he nods in acceptance.
As for the rest . . . well. He can't argue with it, no matter how much he wants to. The world isn't split so evenly between good and bad, despite what he'd like to think. I am not a Joestar, and that means more than just bloodlines. It's a line in the sand between Jonathan and Dio, and Giorno does indeed toe that line.
(He wonders, selfishly, what side Giorno considers his consigliere on. What he thought an older Polnareff would do, when push came to shove).
My acceptability is conditional, and maybe it's harder for him to see, coming in when he did, seeing Jotaro already so accepting of Giorno, no apparent strings attached. Certainly he'd never thought about it before last night.
What you want. Well. That was a little harder to define. I want to understand who you are now and who I'm used to; I want things to be back to normal; I want to be someone you can talk to. ]
To mend this between us.
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[He frowns slightly, not at Polnareff but down at the back of his hand on the table. Then his lips twitch into an uncertain smile.]
Most people where I come from aren't interested in mending. Just bending or breaking, you know? So I'm not sure . . .
[To mend this between us. That means that he is a priority, in Polnareff's eyes. He is the end goal. He has to sit with that for a moment before he can respond.]
It's difficult for me to not . . . to understand. The way you do, the way Jotaro does, the way Kakyoin does. To see . . . what it's like to look at a child and see something to be eliminated. There's too much—
[He breathes in sharply, out slowly.]
Bruno would be upset with me if I thought like that. If I treated a child like a monster. And after he died, I swore to myself to uphold his values unless it was absolutely necessary that I not do so, for the sake of his memory and his spirit. So the closer I brush up against it, that mentality, the more it feels like stepping on nails.
That's not an answer to your question. But I think I . . . have to start from there, to move forward.