[And there really isn't: at his core, Carlos is not a liar; it's unnatural to him to even consider lying about anything as important as whatever this is. Maybe it's not alright, exactly, but he percieves himself as telling the truth, and therefore can't be held accountable for any possible lies inherent in the repeated statement. It's all very simple to him, and all simple problems have simple answers.
...Then again, though, what does he know about simplicity? He may not be a liar, but he knows very personally that nothing is quite as black-and-white as that. There are forces at work in Giorno's life that are far more complicated and insidious than any Smiling God, and Carlos understands his lack of understanding about any of them. No, this is not a simple problem, and he does not have a simple role in solving it, by any means. Maybe it's not even his place to solve it: perhaps he's meddling again.
Quietly, he tightens his grip, barely even processing what's being said to him, lost in thought and memory as he so often finds himself. Lost in general, really: he cannot be a scientist in this situation. This is not a simple scientific problem, and treating it like it is will only lead to more things breaking, for better or for worse, and that's not something that he wants. Carlos doesn't have experience with whatever he's doing, but it feels natural, like he's seen it before.
You will not change, or fix, or do anything at all to my little girl.
He exhales sharply, offering the slightest laugh--more of a suggestion of registered humor than anything, but it is sincere. He is not a liar.]
These are made to get dirty. I can scientifically guarantee I've had worse things on it than Italian teenager snot.
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[And there really isn't: at his core, Carlos is not a liar; it's unnatural to him to even consider lying about anything as important as whatever this is. Maybe it's not alright, exactly, but he percieves himself as telling the truth, and therefore can't be held accountable for any possible lies inherent in the repeated statement. It's all very simple to him, and all simple problems have simple answers.
...Then again, though, what does he know about simplicity? He may not be a liar, but he knows very personally that nothing is quite as black-and-white as that. There are forces at work in Giorno's life that are far more complicated and insidious than any Smiling God, and Carlos understands his lack of understanding about any of them. No, this is not a simple problem, and he does not have a simple role in solving it, by any means. Maybe it's not even his place to solve it: perhaps he's meddling again.
Quietly, he tightens his grip, barely even processing what's being said to him, lost in thought and memory as he so often finds himself. Lost in general, really: he cannot be a scientist in this situation. This is not a simple scientific problem, and treating it like it is will only lead to more things breaking, for better or for worse, and that's not something that he wants. Carlos doesn't have experience with whatever he's doing, but it feels natural, like he's seen it before.
You will not change, or fix, or do anything at all to my little girl.
He exhales sharply, offering the slightest laugh--more of a suggestion of registered humor than anything, but it is sincere. He is not a liar.]
These are made to get dirty. I can scientifically guarantee I've had worse things on it than Italian teenager snot.
[There's more of an actual laugh, now.]