[But of course he doesn't say that. Of course not — he'd never, ever try to force Polnareff to choose between two of his friends, not Polnareff, who deserves anything but that. And besides, telling him now would mean telling him only half the story, and he won't do that because really, what's the difference between that and a lie?]
[So he tells him the safe part, with a small smile.]
I think he just doesn't like me being around Jotaro very much. He thinks I'm a bad influence, maybe.
[Oh. That's new. No one has ever addressed Chariot so directly, and both Stand and user are taken aback. But Giorno is very clearly addressing Chariot, not Polnareff-- and so he silently orders him to nod.]
[It's just what he's used to, with Pistols and with Star, now. The response makes him smile, as warmly as if he were talking to a child, and so he nods back and gets to his feet, trotting over barefoot to his cabinet.]
[. . . When he throws it open, the middle shelf is fucking full of pudding, to no one's surprise. Also plastic spoons. That's how you get ants, Giorno, but he seems to think it's worth it as he crosses back to sit cross-legged in front of Chariot.]
Even if you don't like it, we can try other things, hm? There's plenty more in the kitchen. Do you want to open it yourself, or should I?
[Holy shit, how much pudding does one person need? Like, Polnareff likes cheese sticks, but he keeps them in the fridge, thanks. But whatever, he's not going to judge-- and Chariot, certainly, is quite pleased with the selection, his arms reaching out eagerly. But that's because Polnareff is making him, not because he's sentient, no matter how much Giorno is pretending otherwise. Right?
Anyway. Chariot is dexterous enough, built for precision-- so he takes the cup carefully out of Giorno's hand, his fingers peeling back the label gently. The spoon is taken just as carefully, inserted into the cup-- he has to slide the spoon sideways between his helmet, but clearly there is a mouth back there, because he's eating it.
And there's a moment of hesitation, of uncertainty, and then--]
PAMI! Pami pami--!
[The voice is terribly high pitched and so clearly excited; Chariot immediately yanks the spoon out, dipping it into the pudding for a second scoop. That's all on his own, and Polnareff stares. Stands acting independent of their users isn't unheard of, but he's never seen Chariot act this way before.]
[He has to clap his hands over his mouth so as not to yell, because holy actual shit, that's the cutest thing that's ever happened in recorded history. Ever. God. PAMI.]
. . . He's cute.
[These big doofy men and their perfect baby Stands.]
[Ah, but this requires a little more thought. Chariot carefully sets the pudding cup down. The spoon is switched to his left hand-- and thus, he can still have pudding while holding Giorno's hand.]
[Another thing he hadn't ordered him to do-- but it's something Polnareff isn't against, certainly. Chariot is still eating his pudding, looking quite pleased with the way things have turned out.]
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[And, because it's Polnareff and not Jotaro or Kakyoin, it's a little more overtly aggravated than it might otherwise be. But not much.]
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You don't like Hermit Purple?
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[He curls his bangs around his finger, shrugs a little.]
I can't possibly like everyone.
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Yeah, but-- I mean, it's Joseph. He's a great guy-- I'm sure he'd like you.
[After all, why wouldn't he?]
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[It's noncommittal. He pulls a strand of hair to its full length, then lets it spring back.]
I don't know, I think our personalities would clash. And I have plenty of friends already anyway. I have you, that's enough for anyone.
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Course he'd like you. Everyone ought to like you, and Joseph is usually a good judge of character.
[A beat, and then he adds:]
Did something happen?
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[But of course he doesn't say that. Of course not — he'd never, ever try to force Polnareff to choose between two of his friends, not Polnareff, who deserves anything but that. And besides, telling him now would mean telling him only half the story, and he won't do that because really, what's the difference between that and a lie?]
[So he tells him the safe part, with a small smile.]
I think he just doesn't like me being around Jotaro very much. He thinks I'm a bad influence, maybe.
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Jotaro beat up someone when he was a child. Like, age ten. If anything, it'll be the opposite.
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[None. It was none. But still.]
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None, hm?
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I'm not telling.
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[Fondly said, though, not smugly.]
That's all right, I hadn't either. Chariot and I were still fighting against trees.
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[trees are our friends . . .]
If Chariot can eat, I want to give him snacks.
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[He summons the Stand-- who appears sitting, yellow eyes wide, glancing curiously at his User.]
You can try, though.
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[He claps his hands together and smiles up at Chariot, head cocked slightly.]
Hello, Chariot — bonsoir! Do you want to try to eat something?
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[. . . When he throws it open, the middle shelf is fucking full of pudding, to no one's surprise. Also plastic spoons. That's how you get ants, Giorno, but he seems to think it's worth it as he crosses back to sit cross-legged in front of Chariot.]
Even if you don't like it, we can try other things, hm? There's plenty more in the kitchen. Do you want to open it yourself, or should I?
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Anyway. Chariot is dexterous enough, built for precision-- so he takes the cup carefully out of Giorno's hand, his fingers peeling back the label gently. The spoon is taken just as carefully, inserted into the cup-- he has to slide the spoon sideways between his helmet, but clearly there is a mouth back there, because he's eating it.
And there's a moment of hesitation, of uncertainty, and then--]
PAMI! Pami pami--!
[The voice is terribly high pitched and so clearly excited; Chariot immediately yanks the spoon out, dipping it into the pudding for a second scoop. That's all on his own, and Polnareff stares. Stands acting independent of their users isn't unheard of, but he's never seen Chariot act this way before.]
You like eating?
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[My.]
[Dio.]
[He has to clap his hands over his mouth so as not to yell, because holy actual shit, that's the cutest thing that's ever happened in recorded history. Ever. God. PAMI.]
. . . He's cute.
[These big doofy men and their perfect baby Stands.]
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[He scowls at his stand, still enthusiastically eating (and with little pami!s interspersed between each bite).]
He hasn't done that since I was a kid, he doesn't usually-- it's stupid.
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[These big doofy men who are embarrassed about their perfect baby Stands . . . He reaches out and pats Chariot's hand, all smiles.]
The Pistols say sillier things, and I love them best of all, so this just makes me love Chariot more.
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And here I thought you didn't speak French!
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[CHARIOT IS HOLDING HIS HAND]
[BYE HE'S GONE]
[#BLESSED]
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[Another thing he hadn't ordered him to do-- but it's something Polnareff isn't against, certainly. Chariot is still eating his pudding, looking quite pleased with the way things have turned out.]
He used to try and do that with Sherry sometimes.
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