digiorno | ic inbox ( ruby city ) Ⅲ

Of course, I wouldn't offer if it wasn't all right. 8 sounds fine, I'll see you then. ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

[And he is. And he is punctual. Ten minutes to 8, he's shooed the couple of customers still hanging around out into the street and is sitting at one of the streetside tables, swinging the keys around his finger and flipping idly through his watch with the other hand.]

ok see you :)

[Elena spends the rest of the day trying not to stress about this, but generally managing to colossally fail at not stressing about it. There's only so much that she can do to keep her mind off the risk she's about to take. She's not used to telling people yet, and it's not like she's got great examples of how to have that difficult conversation.]

[Well, that's not entirely true. The finding out part, she doesn't have much, but after that, the deeper explanation? Stefan answered any and all of her questions honestly and openly. He didn't try to hide things from her, didn't try to push her to feel one way or another about it. He wanted her to have all the facts at her disposal and he was willing to respect whatever her decision ended up being. She needed to at least offer Giorno the same.]

[Still, she tries everything she can think of to keep her mind from dwelling on it for too long. She exercises in the safety of the indoors. She writes in her diary. She tries reading a book. She tries cleaning up even though there's not much to clean. She even tries to take a nap, but that doesn't do her much good. She just keeps circling back around to thinking about 8 o'clock and just how the hell you're supposed to tell someone you're a vampire.]

[Elena feeds before she leaves for the coffee shop, and packs a single book in a bag that she slings over her shoulder. On the way over, she's trying to lay out the conversation in her head, practicing mentally what she'll say, and alternating between strategies of letting Giorno take the lead or directing the conversation herself, laying out what she needs first or telling the truth first.]

[She still hasn't entirely worked it out in her head by the time she walks up to the shop where Giorno is waiting, but she draws a deep breath in those last few steps and brushes some of her hair back behind her ear.]

Hey, sorry. You weren't waiting long, were you?

[It's 8 on the dot. Elena was never inherently punctual, but making deals with vampires much older and stronger than her friends certainly taught here a thing or two about being on time.]

[Oh, and there she is. She just looks normal--like she always does. Like an average girl. The girl next door type, Giorno thinks, at least by American standards. He tucks his watch into his pocket and gives her a look that's more canny than wary, simply because there's no indication whatsoever of fear. And really, he isn't afraid. Not much can hurt him. If anything, he'd be worried for others, those he cares about.]

[After a very brief pause, he catches his keys up in a fist and wiggles his fingers at her.]

Buona sera. Come on in.

[And he turns to go inside without waiting for her response, although he does hold the door for her. Ever the gentleman. Ish.]

Would you like something to eat? There's a few sandwiches left. On the house, not that I'm actually making a profit.

[Elena flashes Giorno a brief smile in thanks at holding the door for her as she steps inside. To the offer of a sandwich, she shakes her head.]

No thanks.

[I already ate almost slips out of her mouth, but while technically true, it feels just misleading enough that it would be setting the tone of this conversation all wrong. Elena fiddles a little with the metal loop that attaches the strap to her bag as she looks over at the mural on the wall, and then back at Giorno.]

Where is that? Is it home for you?

[It feels a little silly making that kind of small talk right now, but silence feels a little dangerous. And maybe knowing just a little more about Giorno will make this easier. That's a hopeful thought, anyway. For all Elena knows, it might make it harder.]

Mm? Oh, yes. My Napoli.

[He quirks a brow at her as he makes his way over behind the counter, clearly expecting her to follow him.]

Fugo didn't tell you? Office is this way. Tea? Coffee?

[Without entirely meaning to, he's treating this like a business meeting. Whoops.]

[Although she keeps pace with him, following him, she hesitates for just a second or two in answering him. It has nothing to do with what he's saying specifically — the questions and their answers don't bother Elena too much — but how he says them calls to mind the eldest living Original. In her mind's eye, she remembers him seated at the table in her family home, carefully aligning the place mat in front of him much as he was constantly aligning deals to protect his family. A noble man who feared his own capacity for cruelty, but one who commanded respect and trust nonetheless for his fairness and honesty.]

[She doesn't think Giorno is Elijah's equal — there is likely no such person who could be so of their word as Elijah is — but he is careful and it seems possible he's just as used to aligning things to protect what matters to him as Elijah is. It makes it easier to trust him.]

[Which could be a mistake. It sometimes was with Elijah, but only when his family was threatened. Elena can only hope that Giorno won't perceive her as a threat.]

No, thank you. [She shakes her head a little. More sheepishly, she admits,] He, um, he might've told me. My first day is kinda a blur . . .

[Now what was that about? The hesitation. It was something he said. She doesn't like tea or coffee maybe? But why the hell would that make her actually stop?]

[His eyes narrow a little. Then he waves his hand dismissively and steps into the hall, then into a side room off the hall--the office. It's pretty nice, if small, with less a desk than a couple of comfortable chairs and a small coffee table.]

It's also entirely possible he didn't say anything. He's a private person. But he likes you.

[He sits as he says that, crossing his legs and looking up at Elena curiously. The implication is clear: Fugo likes her, so Giorno respects her. He trusts Fugo's judgment. He's curious as to what made him judge her someone worth liking.]

[Elena takes her bag off as she sits, setting it down beside her chair. She doesn't scoot back, however. She stays close to the edge of the seat.]

I consider myself pretty lucky that I ran into him, and not someone else. He helped me when he didn't have to. [Even when she insisted that she didn't need him to with a pretty flimsy lie that most people would have let stand. Elena rubs her thighs a little before resting her hands on her knees.] I noticed he was pretty private though. I remember he mentioned something about supernatural things happening where you're from, but he didn't go into detail about any of it.

[Elena pauses there for a moment, debating if this is the approach she should take or not.]

He was talking about things like what you can do though, wasn't he? The stuff with the flowers?

[Giorno pauses, too, considering everything she's said, the way she approached this meeting, her body language now, and what he's read of her on the network and heard of her from Fugo. Slowly and quite naturally, he eases himself a little further back in his seat, so his posture is more relaxed. Then, half on an educated guess and half on instinct:]

He was. And he must have had a good feeling about you if he said that much. Generally it isn't safe for us to talk about that sort of thing openly back home. We're a bit more open here, but even so--old habits die hard.

[Elena nods a little, but there's another hesitation. Her gaze drops briefly as she weighs her options because it'd be a perfect opening to say that she can relate to that, to hiding something even if up until fairly recently, it was never actually her secret she was hiding. Once again, that strays just a little too far from completely honest. She came here, to him, because she wants something. She looks up again.]

I have a favor to ask, if it's something you can do with your... power. [She's not really sure of the term. It's not exactly in the forefront of her mind to try and supply a better word right now.] But I have to tell you something first because I don't want to ask you to do something without explaining why I'm asking.

[Elena purses her lips a little. She's still on the precipice, but it's also the point of no return. In another second, she's going to be in free fall, and she doesn't know what's waiting at the bottom.]

I think you probably already know at least part of what I'm about to say . . .

You're dead, aren't you?

[Just like that. Crisply, clinically, without an ounce of tact.]

[From his end, he doesn't see a problem with it. She's led him to it; she's hesitating to say it; she opened the door. So here he is, stepping through it. He doesn't need an invitation. And his eyes stay on her, sharp and unblinking, waiting for her answer.]

[This moment, and the next few, determine whether or not he sees her as a threat.]

[Elena swallows thickly and nods a little. It's obvious she hadn't expected him to be that accurate. A vague speculation that there's something different about her, sure, but to know for certain she's dead?]

There was a car accident. I drowned.

[She's crisp, but she's not clinical about it. She just doesn't want to dwell on it because if she stays with it for longer than that, she doesn't know how likely it is she'll be able to keep talking. Elena breaks the gaze with Giorno to look down at her lap. Her brow furrows a little, as she blinks rapidly for a just a few seconds. Her eyes are wet, but she refuses to cry right now. She just focuses on explaining the whole truth.]

It's a long story, but I had hit my head pretty hard earlier that day and I lost a lot of blood.

I . . . [Elena draws a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it go.] I don't know how I got vampire blood in my system exactly. I have an idea, but when I woke up on the train, I didn't know I had even . . .

[She falls silent for just a few seconds.]

I didn't know I was in transition until I was talking to Fugo. I remembered the accident, and I could hear his pulse, and I was . . . [Elena looks up at the ceiling briefly. There's no part of the rest of this sentence that feels comfortable to say.] I was hungrier than I've ever been in my life. I knew what was happening after that, and I didn't want to hurt him.

[That's why she tried to get Fugo to leave her to navigating the city by herself. That's why when it became obvious he wasn't going to let that happen, she made sure there was distance between them so it was easier to ignore the urge to feed and complete the transition.]

I don't want to hurt anybody. [Elena is sure to look Giorno firmly in the eye. He needs to believe that.] That's why I'm here.

[There are two moments during this explanation that Giorno's poker face cracks. Not much, but enough.]

[Elena says vampire, and his eyes narrow.]

[Then she says I didn't know I was in transition until I was talking to Fugo, and his fingers twitch into a loose fist before he manages to make them relax.]

[She didn't do anything. She says she doesn't want to. But lots of people say lots of things. They've gotten soft, him especially, but none of them are soft enough to let danger like this pass unnoticed. Or that shouldn't be. Fugo is much kinder than he thinks he is.]

[For a long moment, Giorno watches her. He doesn't breathe or blink--or even really think. Instead, he watches, lets his mind run over her past tells like creek water over smooth-polished stone. Finally, on another burst of instinct, he uncrosses his legs, placing both heels on the floor, rubs his thumb absently against his lower lip, and nods.]

Are you saying that because it's what you want? Or because it's what you think I want to hear?

[Elena holds Giorno's gaze for a few seconds, her eyes dipping down to his legs when he uncrosses them and places both of his feet on the floor. She's not sure exactly what this new posture means, but she tries her best to hold her ground even though it feels like in some ways Giorno is the entire room. She thinks there's probably one or two things that she could say that would hopefully prove her intentions to him, but it's . . . They're overwhelming. If she names them, they become things that can hurt her in ways far worse than anything he could do with vervain at his disposal.]

[The silence is going on a little too long, and she knows it, but.]

[Elena swallows thickly, looking down at her hands in her lap, where she's started picking at her nails a little. She makes herself stop, intertwining her fingers together instead as her brow furrows. Her stomach twists itself up into knots, and her mouth goes dry. She's said this out loud to someone else before, but.]

[But.]

[Does he need to believe her? Is it absolutely necessary that he believes her? She wants him to, she thinks it might help, but there has to be another way to convince him that she really doesn't want to hurt anyone than to part with that truth. Elena's next breath is shaky as a tear slips down her cheek. She can't go there. Not with him. She's trusting him to be the kind to ask questions first, and stake later, but she can't trust him with something that deep within her when she can't guarantee she'll be able to put herself back together again afterward.]

[Elena glances back up at Giorno before reaching for her bag. She pulls out the book she brought — it's a botany book of some kind — and flips to a page she has dogeared. Setting it on the coffee table, she slides it closer to Giorno, pointing to a specific flowering herb on the page.]

This is an herb called vervain, [she says, her voice a little and tired, as she sits up right again. She pauses again, trying to make her voice a little firmer, but can't quite shake the strain of what feels like exhaustion to her.] It's safe for humans, but toxic to me. If a human wears it or ingests it, I can't compel them. I can give you some ideas of what I've done in the past to make sure my family was safe, if you want, but the other important part is if I touch it, it burns. If I inhale it, ingest it, or someone injects it into me, I'll be weaker. Large enough doses will make me pass out.

[She looks up at Giorno again slowly.]

Either way, it will make me easier to contain. Or kill if it comes down to it.

Edited 2017-03-09 07:01 (UTC)

[Truthfully, her answer to the question doesn't mean much. Or at least the answer in words doesn't. It's a physical response Giorno was angling after, and he certainly gets one. Elena's made of tells, so much so that it would almost be suspicious if she weren't so clearly trying to hold it together.]

[No, she's telling the truth. Feeling for the rhythms of her breath, the pulse of her veins, doesn't help, but her expression says it all, and the directness with which she speaks, not to answer yes or no but to provide a thorough response--she means it.]

[Giorno looks at her steadily. Then he looks at the book, takes it in his hands and pulls it into his lap. He studies the picture and the text around it for a moment, intent in a way that's less looking for truth or lies and more just scientifically curious. Then he rests his open hand on the page and, with his other hand, pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to her.]

I can make as much of this as you need. You'll have to tell me precisely and in exact detail how much and how often. No point doing this and then leaving a lapse in coverage, so to speak.

If at any point the system doesn't work and you hurt someone, we'll renegotiate, find something that works better. If at any point you hurt Fugo, the deal is through and I'm passing you off to someone capable but significantly less efficient than I am.

[Which is honestly insanely generous, considering. It also depends how badly Fugo is hurt, but she doesn't need to know that. No one really needs to know how angry Giorno gets when he's angry.]

[He looks down at the page again, traces the outline of the illustrated leaves.]

Why is it you've chosen to trust me with this instead of someone else?

[Elena breathes a small, subtle sigh of relief when he pulls the handkerchief out of his pocket to offer to her, her gaze dropping down to the floor briefly. It's only then that she reaches out to take the handkerchief though she fingers the material rather than immediately use it as she blinks her tears back as best she can first.]

Fugo said that he knew people were from his world because they had knowledge about something supernatural. Where I'm from, knowing something supernatural usually means you either hunt it or you protect it, and he didn't sound like he was hunting it if he wasn't willing to talk about it at all. So when I found out you had a supernatural ability . . . [Elena pauses, feeling a little embarrassed because it's somewhat over-simplistic thinking, isn't it? But her reason is her reason, so she presses on.] I figured you were like me. Otherwise, Fugo wouldn't have been trying to protect you even indirectly. He would have warned me instead.

[Elena looks at the book in Giorno's lap briefly, and then at the handkerchief in her hands. She finally uses it to carefully dab away any lingering tears, though it seems a little futile since they don't seem to want to move away from the edge.]

You remind me of someone I know, too. Someone who's known for his honor because he always keeps his word. And who would do anything to keep his family safe above everyone else.

[Giorno might not be elaborating on what exactly the consequences of breaking their deal through hurting Fugo might be beyond the deal being off and renegotiating being completely off the table, but she doesn't have any illusion that it won't end well for her regardless.]

[Passing you off doesn't sit well with Elena though. Elena has spent too much time being an object vied for by interested parties or being something that needs to be protected that she's not interested in entering this deal like that. She doesn't want to be a something.]

I know that I'm asking for your help, but I'm not asking you to take everything on, or make me your responsibility. Whatever happens, whether I ever lose control or not . . . What I do will be because of my choices.

And if I make the choice to hurt someone, I'll face the consequences. Whatever they are, and whoever they're coming from.

[Because this isn't about protecting Elena, it's about protecting other people. And if she makes a different choice than the one she's making while sitting here right now, she knows that deep down, she wouldn't want that to go unanswered. Even if in the moment she would resist or try to avoid the consequence for the sake of self-preservation, the girl sitting in this office wouldn't want her to walk away like it doesn't matter what she does or who gets hurt because of her.]

["You remind me of someone I know." That's . . . a strange answer, when there's no way she could have known Dio. The shock actually shows, even if only for a moment. Giorno doesn't know how to parse that statement when he doesn't know, from his own perspective, what this other person is like, or if she's wrong about the comparison.]

[The last part, at least, is definitely true. He would do anything to keep his family safe.]

[There's pink stickiness on his thumb, where he rubbed it, from his lip gloss. Idly, he rubs his thumb and forefinger together. He considers her--her statement, her discomfort. After a moment, he nods.]

In that case, let me say what my first instinct was in any case: if at any point you hurt Fugo, I'll kill you.

[He says this very casually, without any apparent ill-will or--anything, really, other than practicality. His posture is perfect, his gaze alert and attentive but not intrusive or violent. This is just a fact among facts.]

I understand that I overstepped my bounds, a moment ago, assuming you're asking for more than you are. I appreciate your desire for autonomy--for your own control over your own choices. But Fugo's safety is my responsibility. This whole city is under my protection, but it's Fugo's safety that is most important to me.

[It's not that she didn't understand that was his implication. It wasn't as though there was anything subtle in what he was saying even if he was leaving it left unsaid. But it's hard not to feel one's blood run a little cold at hearing I'll kill you spoken in such smooth, dispassionate tones. Elena purses her lips a little, swallowing hard, but ultimately keeps her composure and stays calm. It's not a threat, nor is it a promise. It is a statement of facts.]

I might be new to being a vampire myself, but I've been around them for a little over a year now and I was trained by a hunter. [Elena draws a steadying breath, holding his handkerchief back out to him.] What do you want to know?

[He's not going to be able to make good on that statement of facts if he tries holding up a crucifix to her, after all.]

[Trained by a hunter. He mentally puts a pin in that. He'll have to bring up Jotaro and Polnareff soon--and Kakyoin, but he's usually more level-headed.]

[The idea of killing a vampire makes him a little nauseous, frankly. But only a very little, and in a distant way. It isn't as though he ever knew his father as . . . that. And the information offered will be invaluable. Although he doesn't think Elena meant it as a way of winning points or anything like that, it certainly functions to make her seem more dependable.]

I want to know everything.

[There. Simple enough. He takes the napkin back from her and folds it neatly between his fingers, creating sharp creases before he tucks it back into his pocket.]

What I know about vampires isn't much, all of it is secondhand, and all of it applies to worlds that aren't yours. Therefore, I can't assume that any of it is applicable to you. For example, to my knowledge, vampires in my world have reflections, don't care about religious imagery, and are only mildly impeded but not killed by decapitation. On the other hand, they are weakened if not killed by sunlight. I've never heard of vervain in context with vampires. And if I had to hazard a guess based on the literature I've found here, you've probably never heard of the Stone Masks.

[Elena shakes her head a little, confirming that she doesn't know anything about masks being involved with vampires of her world. Although she supposes a mask could be used as a form of restraint in a pinch, she has a feeling that's not these stone masks' connection to vampires from Giorno's world.]

We have a little in common, it sounds like. [It's not a question, but her voice starts to rise a little like it could be.] I have a reflection, religious imagery doesn't do anything, and sunlight without a daylight ring can hurt or kill a vampire. Decapitation would kill though. So would a wooden stake through the heart, or removing the heart altogether.

[A beat.]

Wood in general seems to hurt more.

[Which isn't something she's experienced firsthand (yet) so much has observed numerous times. A tree branch through the gut always seems to take Stefan, Damon, and Caroline a lot longer to recover from than a knife or something similar. She hesitates, wondering for a moment if the creation of vampires is at all relevant to Giorno. Technically speaking, when it comes to managing Elena, it really isn't. But there's a possibility one of the Mikaelsons could appear here, isn't there? If she's here, then any one of them could show up. Best case scenario would be Elijah, and measures wouldn't be particularly necessary, but worst case was Klaus with very little that could be done against him. The in-between runs closer to Klaus than it does to Elijah. Elena brushes some of her hair back behind her ear.]

The sun, wood, and vervain are because of the spell that was used to create the first vampires in my world. The witch who cast the spell drew on the power of a very old tree and the sun to create them, and vervain was growing at its base. [She draws a breath and then says more like a recitation,] Nature always has to have a balance.

So, creating an immortal creature means there has to be a way to kill it. Or at least weaken it.

The only vampire I ever heard of from my home, all decapitation did was slow him down. He attached his head to someone else's body and kept on going.

[Giorno says this with a studied detachment. It's a little too detached, honestly; that in itself is a tell, because there's no way someone could have no emotional reaction to something like that without really trying not to. He's been cold towards Elena so far, but nothing like this cold.]

[His brows twitch with interest when she mentions that--creation, and witches. Then he laughs, genuinely sort of tickled by this.]

That doesn't seem much like balance to me. A weakness, but an incredibly tiny one . . . well, maybe I'm just cynical about the concept of balance. I break the laws of physics often enough.

The mask is what's used to make vampires, back home. As far as I know, vampires were originally created to be food for something much worse. I haven't seen either firsthand, though, as I mentioned.

[Elena's brow furrows a little in obvious confusion about how a mask could possibly create vampires, but she supposes there has to be magic of some kind in Giorno's world, too, to explain how he can do what he does. She shakes her head a little.]

The vampires in my world were created because two parents couldn't stand the thought of losing anymore children. [Elena purses her lips a little because oh, how that changed so quickly. Mikael may have only wanted to destroy one of his children, but Esther saw all of their existences as abominations and slights against nature.] If one Original dies, every vampire in their bloodline gets sick and dies.

[So, there's a greater balance than there might appear to be at first blush.]

[It's here Elena hesitates, shifting in her seat a little. She's supposed to be answering Giorno's questions, explaining everything that he might need to know about vampires in her world to know how best to handle her, should the worst come to pass. But she noticed it. She noticed the way he removed himself emotionally talking about that vampire he knows. There's something personal there. There has to be. Slowly, she asks,]

You only knew one vampire?

[Oh.]

What a sentimental reason.

[It's so contrary to everything he knows about why Dio chose to become what he became--but of course they're not talking about Dio. It's a common logical error that, when one is looking for specific similarities, one misses other important details. He can't fall into that kind of trap.]

[So focused is Giorno on not falling into Dio-related logical traps that Elena's question takes him by total surprise. He answers instinctively.]

Yes. I--

[And then his brow furrows.]

No. I never knew any vampire. Not from my world. I only heard of--knew of one, but I never met him.

[She's not sure how much farther to press. She thinks that if she hits a hard limit, Giorno will rebuff her. He doesn't seem particularly shy about setting hard limits, anyway. She just doesn't want to have to necessarily get to that point to know that she needs to back off some.]

But you knew he existed?

[The past tense tells her that whoever this vampire is, he didn't survive. Not long enough for Giorno to know him directly, but long enough for him to know of him. It's what seems the safest path to tread without asking too invasive of a question.]

. . . Yes.

[Mm. He doesn't want her to have information on him, really. Nothing she could use against him--just in case. At the very least, not yet. But he also doesn't want to directly rebuff her unless he has to, because then she'll know it is a vulnerable spot. That could be just as problematic.]

[He tips his head for a moment.]

Everyone did. Everyone who knew about vampires, anyway. He was infamous.

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