I don't mind that part of it. Italia is my home. It's . . . a very important place to me. So I like that, that you think of it when you think of me.
[A beat. He bumps Asher a little with his shoulder.]
You're not crazy. I'm definitely crazier than you are. I think smoke and mirrors will keep people from actually paying attention to me, that's pretty crazy, right?
[Asher is unused to this friendly sort of recompense, mostly because he's unused to having friends at all.
He looks down at the ground and laughs, the sound not at all like anything Giorno has heard from him over the network. There's no false bravado in it; his shoulders shake and his face brightens up in a way that's almost uncanny. A jarring disconnect, he's disgusting one minute and surprisingly innocent in the next, which may throw some people for a loop.
[He doesn't regret it. He doesn't regret anything about his life, except for the bodies left behind--getting them involved at all was a mistake, but it wasn't. It's too complicated. Definitely too complicated to think about at the same time he's trying to navigate this . . . whatever it is.]
[In this moment, at least, he's reassured. His initial assessment of Asher was right after all. There's not much to be afraid of here but ignorance.]
I do that on purpose, mostly. Do you know what they call that in animals? The word is "paratrepsis". A diversionary display.
[He glances up at Asher, looking a little reluctant.]
I'm not sure what else to say. I don't . . . I don't want to talk about them. [Wait, no. That isn't what he meant to say. His expression shutters for a moment, pinched and fearful, before:] It. The--whole thing. I don't want to lecture you. I don't--
[The glimpse of uncertainty catches Asher off guard. While he's tempted to pry further, he's breached his limits already. Shifting to the side, he decides to give Giorno some space.
A little safety.]
It's okay.
[Worry settles into the lines above his brows.]
If you need to get somethin' off your chest, let it out.
That's the thing. I don't know if I need to. Or want to. I don't know. All I know is I don't feel right, right now. Not like normal.
[Bad. He feels bad. But even that seems like a lot to verbalize. He glances at Asher again.]
I feel like I should trust you. But that's pretty frightening. And I wish I hadn't let you see I was upset--but that's it. I'm afraid of trusting you, but I'm not afraid of you. And I probably shouldn't be telling you this, either.
[He sees Giorno's nose wrinkle as though it had sniffed something foul, and the lines on the other's face remind him of someone, quiet and uncertain, sitting at the foot of a bed. Sadness makes people look even smaller than they are, and in this moment it occurs to Asher what his greatest fear really is.
Maybe it'd make more sense if he was afraid of dying or space or body-snatching aliens, but he's never really been the practical sort.
What frightens him most when Giorno says that word, trust, is the notion that he'll let other people down.]
I'm the last person who'd judge you for bein' scared, little dude.
[And in the spirit of being a better person than he was before, he decides to take on step forward.]
I was drunk, and I'm still drunk, but-
[Spoken after a long sigh of disappointment, directed mostly at himself.]
I'll make it up to ya.
[He extends his pinky towards the other, smile warm.]
[Giorno . . . blinks, confused. It's funny. It's taken him a while to figure out what is familiar about Asher, and it's--that kind of thing. "Little dude". Asher is nothing like Mista, except that he talks like a normal person, a civilian. Something Mista isn't anymore, but Asher must be.]
[It's so hard to understand. He's never really had--friends before. Not until so recently, and even that's awfully complicated. He's never had anyone to joke with. No one back home would ever call the Don Giovanna "little dude".]
[It . . . really isn't a trick, is it? Asher is just like this.]
[Giorno gnaws his lip a little, silent in his anxiety. Staring at Asher's pinky. That part takes a little longer to click, but he remembers: back in another lifetime, Haruno saw it on television once. Whoever lies has to swallow a thousand needles. It's--he remembers the word for that. But he doesn't want to say it out loud.]
[With a lopsided smile, he nods and hooks his pinky with Asher's.]
I know you will. That's easy to believe.
[Because Asher is just that kind of person. Giorno drops his hand back into his lap, folded over the other, his posture small again. A pause, and then:]
I don't want to tell you what my name used to be. I apologize. I realize . . . the admission of a deception but an unwillingness to lift its veil is hypocritical. However, this is how it has to be.
People used to give me trouble, that's all. So it's easier this way.
[Asher has his fair share of secrets, and as a result doesn't resort to pushing Giorno any further.
He almost relates in a way, as many times he wishes he could be someone other than himself. That's a part of why he acts so stupidly, in college it was a gimmick to get people to like him by presenting himself as the confident yet still approachable hype man, but now he's fallen so far into it it's hard to separate that contrived persona from his more sincere qualities.
A little bit of that spills out just now, though, as he reaches for Giorno's shoulder and gives it a little squeeze.]
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no subject
I don't mind that part of it. Italia is my home. It's . . . a very important place to me. So I like that, that you think of it when you think of me.
[A beat. He bumps Asher a little with his shoulder.]
You're not crazy. I'm definitely crazier than you are. I think smoke and mirrors will keep people from actually paying attention to me, that's pretty crazy, right?
no subject
He looks down at the ground and laughs, the sound not at all like anything Giorno has heard from him over the network. There's no false bravado in it; his shoulders shake and his face brightens up in a way that's almost uncanny. A jarring disconnect, he's disgusting one minute and surprisingly innocent in the next, which may throw some people for a loop.
Is he one or the other?]
Tough luck, bud.
[He's both, unfortunately.]
You're kind of hard to miss.
[In the best of ways.]
no subject
[He doesn't regret it. He doesn't regret anything about his life, except for the bodies left behind--getting them involved at all was a mistake, but it wasn't. It's too complicated. Definitely too complicated to think about at the same time he's trying to navigate this . . . whatever it is.]
[In this moment, at least, he's reassured. His initial assessment of Asher was right after all. There's not much to be afraid of here but ignorance.]
I do that on purpose, mostly. Do you know what they call that in animals? The word is "paratrepsis". A diversionary display.
[He glances up at Asher, looking a little reluctant.]
I'm not sure what else to say. I don't . . . I don't want to talk about them. [Wait, no. That isn't what he meant to say. His expression shutters for a moment, pinched and fearful, before:] It. The--whole thing. I don't want to lecture you. I don't--
I don't know.
no subject
A little safety.]
It's okay.
[Worry settles into the lines above his brows.]
If you need to get somethin' off your chest, let it out.
no subject
[He laughs a little, under his breath.]
That's the thing. I don't know if I need to. Or want to. I don't know. All I know is I don't feel right, right now. Not like normal.
[Bad. He feels bad. But even that seems like a lot to verbalize. He glances at Asher again.]
I feel like I should trust you. But that's pretty frightening. And I wish I hadn't let you see I was upset--but that's it. I'm afraid of trusting you, but I'm not afraid of you. And I probably shouldn't be telling you this, either.
no subject
Maybe it'd make more sense if he was afraid of dying or space or body-snatching aliens, but he's never really been the practical sort.
What frightens him most when Giorno says that word, trust, is the notion that he'll let other people down.]
I'm the last person who'd judge you for bein' scared, little dude.
[And in the spirit of being a better person than he was before, he decides to take on step forward.]
I was drunk, and I'm still drunk, but-
[Spoken after a long sigh of disappointment, directed mostly at himself.]
I'll make it up to ya.
[He extends his pinky towards the other, smile warm.]
I promise.
no subject
[It's so hard to understand. He's never really had--friends before. Not until so recently, and even that's awfully complicated. He's never had anyone to joke with. No one back home would ever call the Don Giovanna "little dude".]
[It . . . really isn't a trick, is it? Asher is just like this.]
[Giorno gnaws his lip a little, silent in his anxiety. Staring at Asher's pinky. That part takes a little longer to click, but he remembers: back in another lifetime, Haruno saw it on television once. Whoever lies has to swallow a thousand needles. It's--he remembers the word for that. But he doesn't want to say it out loud.]
[With a lopsided smile, he nods and hooks his pinky with Asher's.]
I know you will. That's easy to believe.
[Because Asher is just that kind of person. Giorno drops his hand back into his lap, folded over the other, his posture small again. A pause, and then:]
I don't want to tell you what my name used to be. I apologize. I realize . . . the admission of a deception but an unwillingness to lift its veil is hypocritical. However, this is how it has to be.
People used to give me trouble, that's all. So it's easier this way.
no subject
He almost relates in a way, as many times he wishes he could be someone other than himself. That's a part of why he acts so stupidly, in college it was a gimmick to get people to like him by presenting himself as the confident yet still approachable hype man, but now he's fallen so far into it it's hard to separate that contrived persona from his more sincere qualities.
A little bit of that spills out just now, though, as he reaches for Giorno's shoulder and gives it a little squeeze.]
You're good.
[Meaning they're good, that they're "cool."
But also that you are good, Giorno.
Or at least, that's how Asher sees it.]