[It would be incorrect to say that one aspect of this dominates his attention. It's more like . . . one aspect of it catches his attention, and then he goes back and rereads all of it and has a short series of heart palpitations. A great deal of it is familiar, at least in broad strokes — he wasn't lying when he told Fugo he'd started planning this early — a great deal of the detail work and the synthesis of various plans is new. But there's a thread running through the whole report that he can't quite pin down until the end. The end, and that song.]
[He goes back and reads through again then. We love you so much, I love you so much. He's not stupid. The structure of all of this, the restaurant . . .]
[Well. That's . . . he's going to have to deal with that eventually, isn't he. Um.]
[In the meantime, though.]
Thank you, this was very informative. But — are you all right?
That would be excellent, actually. I've been curious about the extent and scope of how monstrous the local wildlife is ever since I heard that there were monsters here.
That's why I'm glad they're fine. The lamp is an acceptable loss. But you should still be careful. With the fire.
Oh, that's convenient, I know all the best resources on the subject at the library. I was fascinated when I got here so I read everything I could find. Although it occurs to me I should have warned you about the ghosts, sorry.
Why don't I go outside briefly and do a little testing to see how this works? Maybe half an hour or so, just so I don't burn down your room. Then call it half an hour to find the books and grab lunch. With my beautiful unburned hands.
They're not so bad. Unless they're the ones who've left everything so disorganized. In which case, they're awful and terrible and should feel bad about themselves.
[Somehow. He feels a little trapped in whatever he says next, just by the way Giorno keeps bringing up how beautiful his hands are.]
A non-burnt down room would be preferable to a burnt one, yes. I'll see you then. Have fun setting things that aren't your hands on fire, it's very cathartic.
I think some of them do that, but it could also be Rohan. We just don't know.
I've really missed casual criminality. Thank god for you. An hour, then.
[And as it turns out, it is very cathartic, burning things that aren't his hands. He's able to burn quite a lot of things, a worrying amount of things, actually, and he still smells a little like char when he returns with a tray of food and a Very Large glass of water, Gold Experience trailing behind him carrying a huge stack of books on the local flora and fauna. He hipchecks the door to Fugo's room open easily. FUGO HOLY FUCK Giorno has never knocked in his life.]
I can't believe you've lasted this long living in a place without laws to break. Life's too short to live playing by the rules.
[Fugo's door gives way without any resistance, mostly because it was half-open to begin with. Fugo is sitting at his desk curled over a book, chin resting in one hand while the other takes neat notes, opened to math so complicated that it'd probably make Narancia cry. There's an empty mug that presumably used to be tea by his elbow.]
Buon-- [His voice is small, raspy, and barely audible. Fugo cuts himself short and reaches to massage his throat, looking both frustrated and confused. Why isn't it getting better? He's been drinking warm things all day, even though it's the middle of the summer and hot. With an irritated sigh, he reaches for his notes and flips to a fresh page to quickly write something. When the message is written, he holds it out for Giorno and Gold Experience to see.]
Buon Giorno! Not so much agony. Just sore. But my voice has been going out. Sorry, I thought it would be better by now.
[Oh no, he still can't talk. Giorno almost drops the tray in his haste to cross the room, sets it down on the side table and then darts out of the room again. Gold Experience is tugged along in his wake for approximately twenty seconds, and then they both return, the Stand still holding the books while Giorno carries a small box of flash cards. He shoves them into Fugo's hands and perches on the edge of the desk.]
They're Star's. They've got simple nouns and things like that. Maybe it'll help and you won't have to write so much.
[Here's the real bummer of not being able to talk: Fugo can't call out to Giorno to tell him that he's fine making do with a pencil and the watches. He's gone too quickly, tugging poor Gold Experience with him. Fugo sighs as he watches him go, before resting his elbow up on the desk so he can prop his chin up with his hands while he waits.
He abandons the pose when Giorno comes back and pushes the cards into his lap, curiously lifting out the first card out of the box while he explains.]
[Out of curiosity, he reaches out to retrieve the card Fugo put back. When he sees what's on it, he can't not laugh a little bit, a short delighted giggle before he manages to stifle himself. He's so happy about having created a monster.]
Mm, I'd try to fix it, but if it's anything like mine it won't work.
[Tapping his chin with the card, he reaches out absentmindedly and feels Fugo's forehead. Not the worst, but not great.]
[Fugo frowns, a little fussy, entirely because Giorno is making light of what he's sure is going to be a problem in the future. Someday, someone is going to explain to Star Platinum what pannacotta and then he is going to move out because that's an entirely reasonable fair course of action to take to ensure a life where he's not harassed by someone else's Stand about pudding. He waits patiently for Giorno to finish with his own fussing before he responds.]
Because I don't feel sick. My throat's just sore. Besides, I'm finally switched back to daylight hours. I don't want to start over again.
[He is momentarily stymied. How is he to fuss when there is nothing to fuss about, nothing to fix? It's that same old frustration. But at the very least it's Fugo, who appears to be willing to put up with a lot from him. For . . . reasons that he isn't thinking about right now.]
Then me bothering you is actually very helpful. I'm keeping you alert and awake and on a good sleep cycle.
[Giorno smiles brightly, right as Gold Experience slides the stack of books carefully onto the desk at Fugo's other side. The top volume is thick, with tiny text and gold trim, and is about kelpies.]
[Fugo's pretty sure he's good on his own at coming up with new and creative ways to not sleep when he's tired-- but he knows that in the face of something he can't fix, Giorno does better when he distracts himself with something that he can. So Fugo nods and solemnly makes a circle with his forefinger and thumb to signify that yes, okay, Giorno is being very helpful by coming and keeping him company during the day and he very much appreciates it.]
[Oh, books! Finally. Fugo's a much more contained person, but it's hard to miss the way he perks up at the thump when Gold Experience situates the stack of books at his other elbow. He reaches to close the math textbook he was studying from, pushing it aside in favor of tugging down that tome about kelpies off the top of the stack and laying it open in what little space is left on the face of his text. He idly flicks through the first few pages, not yet reading in depth-- just appreciating that someone took the time to write a very serious-minded book about the behavior of sticky river horses.
As tempting as it is to ignore lunch and just hunker down to read this instead, he knows better than to ignore Giorno. He closes the book and reaches again for the cards, trying to find one that would quickly communicate how helpful these books will be. None of them are perfect, but he finds one that he settles on as good enough for the moment: he pulls out and presents the BEST card to Giorno and Gold Experience.]
[Truthfully, he would have been all right with a little ignoring. He's pleased enough at the fact that Fugo's smiled, that Fugo's so chatty even without actually speaking; the silly little gesture charms him into a grin, and he tucks his heels up on the handle of the lowest desk drawer.]
[So, yes, he would have been fine to entertain himself for at least a minute or two. But after a few moments of perusing the first volume, Fugo turns to him with the card, and . . .]
[Oh.]
[No, it's . . . both of them. Him and Gold Experience. The card is for both of them. There's a tremor of uncertainty that shivers in the air between them, just for a second or two, and for that moment Giorno actually looks startled.]
[Then he smiles, slow and crooked and genuine, and plucks the card from Fugo's fingers, presents it to Gold Experience, who takes it with unblinking uncertainty.]
Look at this. Fugo likes you, just like you like him.
[Just like you like him. Common sense dictates that since Giorno likes him, it follows that so would Gold Experience. Still. Fugo's tickled to hear verbal confirmation that this theory is true. It occurs to him that for all they went through together back in April, everything that Gold Experience has done to help him heal, they have honestly never been properly introduced. So he smiles at Gold Experience, a little shy, and briefly lifts one hand in a belated wave. Hello, Gold Experience. It's nice to see you again.
[Sometimes . . . god. Sometimes Gold Experience makes his life exactly like an echo chamber. It's overwhelming, the way the waves of his Stand's feelings hit against the insides of his mind, rising up from nothing to suddenly appear, violent and bottomless and desperate. He's happy enough himself to see Fugo's smile, the simple sweet shyness of his gesture, but—]
[They rock Gold Experience's world. Giorno manages to contain his reaction to a quiet intake of breath, but it's difficult. His Stand is delighted in the way Gold Experience feels anything: every emotion, even the positive ones, sharp-edged as broken glass. It's not bad, though. Just jarring. A little cloying, maybe. But not bad, no.]
[And of course Gold Experience isn't nearly as subtle as Giorno'd like him to be. No, he startles visibly, back straightening as his gaze tracks the movements of Fugo's hand in the air. A breath, and he reaches forward, hand outstretched in a mirror of Fugo's wave, nearly close enough to touch before pulling back at the last minute. He turns to Giorno then, excited as a child, babbling under his breath, mudamudamuda.]
[Giorno winces, flapping his hand vaguely.]
All right, all right, already. I told you, he likes you.
[It's not clear who he's talking to, really. He does take the card back from Gold Experience, though, curls it slightly in both of his hands and ducks his head.]
He . . . likes that you're paying attention to him.
[That's significantly more transparent, at least.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[He goes back and reads through again then. We love you so much, I love you so much. He's not stupid. The structure of all of this, the restaurant . . .]
[Well. That's . . . he's going to have to deal with that eventually, isn't he. Um.]
[In the meantime, though.]
Thank you, this was very informative. But — are you all right?
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No everything is fine I've just changed my mind about wanting to go outside that's all.
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That's not like you. I wonder if something strange is going on. Do you have a fever? I think I might.
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What about you? If you have a fever, are you feeling all right yourself?
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that's a little worrisome
Your hands aren't burned, are they?
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[. . .]
I should probably stay away from all these pictures, I don't have extra copies.
Anyway, if you're just staying in your room today I'll bring you books. Have you eaten?
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[Except now he isn't going out. And his stomach is still kind of in knots from trying to go out.]
If you have any books I could borrow, I would appreciate it. I have plenty, but I wouldn't say no to more reading material.
I'm glad your hands are fine. Too bad about the lamp.
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It was my least beautiful lamp so it's not the greatest loss in the world. My hands are much more important and beautiful.
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That's why I'm glad they're fine. The lamp is an acceptable loss. But you should still be careful. With the fire.
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Why don't I go outside briefly and do a little testing to see how this works? Maybe half an hour or so, just so I don't burn down your room. Then call it half an hour to find the books and grab lunch. With my beautiful unburned hands.
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[Somehow. He feels a little trapped in whatever he says next, just by the way Giorno keeps bringing up how beautiful his hands are.]
A non-burnt down room would be preferable to a burnt one, yes. I'll see you then. Have fun setting things that aren't your hands on fire, it's very cathartic.
[Arson: it's fun for the whole family!]
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I've really missed casual criminality. Thank god for you. An hour, then.
[And as it turns out, it is very cathartic, burning things that aren't his hands. He's able to burn quite a lot of things, a worrying amount of things, actually, and he still smells a little like char when he returns with a tray of food and a Very Large glass of water, Gold Experience trailing behind him carrying a huge stack of books on the local flora and fauna. He hipchecks the door to Fugo's room open easily. FUGO HOLY FUCK Giorno has never knocked in his life.]
Buon giorno! Are you still in agony?
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[Fugo's door gives way without any resistance, mostly because it was half-open to begin with. Fugo is sitting at his desk curled over a book, chin resting in one hand while the other takes neat notes, opened to math so complicated that it'd probably make Narancia cry. There's an empty mug that presumably used to be tea by his elbow.]
Buon-- [His voice is small, raspy, and barely audible. Fugo cuts himself short and reaches to massage his throat, looking both frustrated and confused. Why isn't it getting better? He's been drinking warm things all day, even though it's the middle of the summer and hot. With an irritated sigh, he reaches for his notes and flips to a fresh page to quickly write something. When the message is written, he holds it out for Giorno and Gold Experience to see.]
Not so much agony. Just sore. But my voice has been going out.
Sorry, I thought it would be better by now.
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[Oh no, he still can't talk. Giorno almost drops the tray in his haste to cross the room, sets it down on the side table and then darts out of the room again. Gold Experience is tugged along in his wake for approximately twenty seconds, and then they both return, the Stand still holding the books while Giorno carries a small box of flash cards. He shoves them into Fugo's hands and perches on the edge of the desk.]
They're Star's. They've got simple nouns and things like that. Maybe it'll help and you won't have to write so much.
1/3
He abandons the pose when Giorno comes back and pushes the cards into his lap, curiously lifting out the first card out of the box while he explains.]
2/3
Right. Star Platinum likes pudding, doesn't he. Fugo replaces the card, this time at very back of the box.]
3/3
He then reaches for his pen, to write a little note:]
I can write out or use the watches for anything more complicated.
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Mm, I'd try to fix it, but if it's anything like mine it won't work.
[Tapping his chin with the card, he reaches out absentmindedly and feels Fugo's forehead. Not the worst, but not great.]
Why aren't you lying down?
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Because I don't feel sick. My throat's just sore.
Besides, I'm finally switched back to daylight hours. I don't want to start over again.
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[He is momentarily stymied. How is he to fuss when there is nothing to fuss about, nothing to fix? It's that same old frustration. But at the very least it's Fugo, who appears to be willing to put up with a lot from him. For . . . reasons that he isn't thinking about right now.]
Then me bothering you is actually very helpful. I'm keeping you alert and awake and on a good sleep cycle.
[Giorno smiles brightly, right as Gold Experience slides the stack of books carefully onto the desk at Fugo's other side. The top volume is thick, with tiny text and gold trim, and is about kelpies.]
You are very welcome, Fugo, I don't mind at all.
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[Oh, books! Finally. Fugo's a much more contained person, but it's hard to miss the way he perks up at the thump when Gold Experience situates the stack of books at his other elbow. He reaches to close the math textbook he was studying from, pushing it aside in favor of tugging down that tome about kelpies off the top of the stack and laying it open in what little space is left on the face of his text. He idly flicks through the first few pages, not yet reading in depth-- just appreciating that someone took the time to write a very serious-minded book about the behavior of sticky river horses.
As tempting as it is to ignore lunch and just hunker down to read this instead, he knows better than to ignore Giorno. He closes the book and reaches again for the cards, trying to find one that would quickly communicate how helpful these books will be. None of them are perfect, but he finds one that he settles on as good enough for the moment: he pulls out and presents the BEST card to Giorno and Gold Experience.]
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[So, yes, he would have been fine to entertain himself for at least a minute or two. But after a few moments of perusing the first volume, Fugo turns to him with the card, and . . .]
[Oh.]
[No, it's . . . both of them. Him and Gold Experience. The card is for both of them. There's a tremor of uncertainty that shivers in the air between them, just for a second or two, and for that moment Giorno actually looks startled.]
[Then he smiles, slow and crooked and genuine, and plucks the card from Fugo's fingers, presents it to Gold Experience, who takes it with unblinking uncertainty.]
Look at this. Fugo likes you, just like you like him.
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[They rock Gold Experience's world. Giorno manages to contain his reaction to a quiet intake of breath, but it's difficult. His Stand is delighted in the way Gold Experience feels anything: every emotion, even the positive ones, sharp-edged as broken glass. It's not bad, though. Just jarring. A little cloying, maybe. But not bad, no.]
[And of course Gold Experience isn't nearly as subtle as Giorno'd like him to be. No, he startles visibly, back straightening as his gaze tracks the movements of Fugo's hand in the air. A breath, and he reaches forward, hand outstretched in a mirror of Fugo's wave, nearly close enough to touch before pulling back at the last minute. He turns to Giorno then, excited as a child, babbling under his breath, mudamudamuda.]
[Giorno winces, flapping his hand vaguely.]
All right, all right, already. I told you, he likes you.
[It's not clear who he's talking to, really. He does take the card back from Gold Experience, though, curls it slightly in both of his hands and ducks his head.]
He . . . likes that you're paying attention to him.
[That's significantly more transparent, at least.]
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