August Test Drive!

[rubycitymods]

Thinking of apping a character but not sure they'll fit in the city walls?

Have no fear, a meme for you is here.

Directions:

• Use an RNG to choose a location and prompt, or wait for someone else to tag.


• Post with your character with their name and canon on top!


• If you'd like, leave contact info for people to get in contact for plotting and other such shenans.


• Tag around! Make friends. Don't be afraid to chat OOC while tagging.

Locations

1.TRAIN STATION - The place where everyone gets dumped off at. Your first view of Ruby City, complete with informational posters telling you all about where you've ended up.
2. THE BEACH - Lovely year-round, though in the winter months, you're probably not likely to dip your toes in.
3. THE BLACK STALLION - A rather quaint bar. Supposedly, the burgers are great, but you don't see anyone immediately who's willing to serve you. Maybe you're meant to get it yourself.
4. THE OBELISK - The tall monolith in the center of the city marks the gathering place of many events, though right now it seems to be cold and dark.
5. THE CLOCKTOWER - Offering an impressive view of the city, several residents come here to clear their heads, if they don't mind braving the narrow staircase.
6. THE COFFEE JOINT - the front windows are warm and welcoming, and it seems there's always someone friendly enough to fix you a cup when you wander through.
7. THE CATACOMBS - Intrepid, aren't you? Those weird holes may beg exploring, but go too deep and you're going to be in a lot of trouble, considering the viciousness of the creatures held within.
8. THE CITY STREETS - All told, Ruby City is a lovely place, once you get past the fact that several of the buildings look derelict and on the verge of falling down. There's no harm in doing a little sightseeing.
9. THE PARK - You thought it'd be a lovely stroll, but the park is anything but friendly, if those approaching wolf-like creatures are any indication.
10. CHOOSE YOUR OWN - Don't like what we've come up with? Feel like picking your own place? There's a whole host of lovely locations to choose from in the City.


Scenarios


1. NEW ARRIVAL - Step off that train, walk down the street. People usually latch on to newcomers to try and help them out. Even if you look shy, the other residents probably won't be!
2. WATCH TALK - Feeling lost? Disoriented? Don't worry, everyone feels that way on their first day. Fortunately - if the signs at the station are to believed - the watch in your pocket can be used to talk to whoever else might be here.
3. BAD WEATHER - Aw, man. Whether it's snow, or rain, or just plain cold, today was definitely the wrong day to get dumped off in a City in the middle of nowhere.
4. A RUN-IN - Maybe you weren't watching. Maybe they weren't. Either way, you just bumped into someone. Perhaps apologies are in order?
5. HELP, IT HURTS - Clumsy, aren't you? Perhaps wherever the train brought you from wasn't so friendly, or you just tripped and twisted your ankle. Either way, you're in a bit of pain. Hopefully someone will notice your booboos and help patch you up.
6. HUNGRY - It isn't very obvious sometimes that restaurants are what they are, especially in a place like Ruby City. Where can a person go to get a bite to eat around here?
7. MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Hey, there's someone you know! --Or maybe not.
8. BEING FOLLOWED - Maybe you're just being paranoid, or maybe you've got a reason to be afraid. Whatever it is, it feels like there's eyes on you...
9. CURRENT EVENTS - None at the moment, but feel free to look through our event tag!
10. CHOOSE YOUR OWN - Don't like any of these ideas? Feel free to come up with your own!

Comments

giorno giovanna | jjba ( vento aureo ) | various scenarios!

[digiorno]

A. TRAIN STATION.

[By all appearances, Giorno is perfectly calm upon arrival to the train station. He stands up straight as he steps out of his car (without having to be coerced, because, although he may not like it, there is really only one way to go at this point); his gaze is clear as he crosses the platform, arms loose at his sides. While he doesn't precisely look older than his age, he does look grave and serious - at least until he begins to read over the informational posters. And then a smile forms on his lips that does look significantly more mature than a fifteen-year-old's might ordinarily, and not entirely pleasant.]

[For the moment, without really thinking about it, he has his father's smile, sharp and dangerous and a touch magnetic. Then his expression goes neutral again, despite the occasional flicker of the corners of his lips.]

[It's work of a few moments to glance around the station and realize that he is alone - or at least alone in all the ways that matter. His family, such as it is, hasn't come with him. He could waste time and energy hoping to find them in the city, or he could simply make his way through the streets as he sees fit and wait. If they're here, they will find him. That's how it always is and how it ought to be.]

[So he makes his way to the exit briskly, his movements crisp and efficient - though he will stop along the way to ask questions of anyone who's still on the platform, more out of curiosity than any real belief they'll be able to help him. He's always been able to help himself best, after all.]

B. OBELISK.

[He hasn't quite figured out the point of the obelisk by the time he comes across it, though he's absolutely heard of it. It's quite possibly the most-discussed landmark in the city, and people speak of it in rumors and whispers, which Giorno finds frustrating. As expected, when he gets closer to it, he finds a simple ornament, beautiful enough, but not particularly eldritch.]

[It isn't until he gets close enough to see the beating black heart of it that his calm demeanor shifts slightly, one eyebrow raising with his growing curiosity. Without a single movement on his part, a second form shifts from nothingness to stand behind him, more a precaution than anything. A few steps later, and he's inches from the thing, absorbing every detail: its shifting color, its utter lack of scent, how it looks alive from this close.]

[He lifts one hand and pushes forward as if to touch the obelisk - but he doesn't, quite, letting his hand rest palm-out perhaps an inch from its surface. The figure behind him, taller and broader and longer-limbed, brackets his body with its arms and mirrors his motion, one hand an inch from the obelisk's surface. Giorno hums contemplatively and simply lets his hand hang there, surrounded by his Stand, waiting for something to happen.]

C. COFFEE JOINT.

[As soon as Giorno gets to the shop, he decides he'll take the advice of the advertisements at the train station and choose lodging above it. Before he even opens the door, the air smells pleasantly of coffee, good coffee, and he can imagine it drifting through the ceiling to the floors above. It's a matter of quick, hushed conversation with the young woman behind the counter for him to make the arrangement; he smiles at her, she smiles at him, and it's more or less done.]

[A few minutes later and he's seated by the window, brushing his hair behind his ears as he watches the slow trickle of passersby outside the window. His fingers curl around the cappuccino in front of him, soaking in its warmth; he flashes a bright, sweet smile at everyone who steps through the door, as if this is his shop and he's personally welcoming them inside.]

[When no one's looking at him, though, something like displeasure passes across his face. He hasn't found anyone from home yet. No Mista, no Trish, no Polnareff; no contacts, well-liked or inconsequential; no familiar faces at all. Which shouldn't trouble him. He's been alone before. But . . . maybe he got used to support. Maybe he shouldn't have.]

[He stirs the foam on his cappuccino instead of actually drinking it, then bites down on the end of the spoon, feeling bubbles burst under his tongue. He has to be careful; he isn't the don here. Or is he? Does it actually make a difference, here or there, with what he can do, what he has done, the power he's capable of holding and controlling?]

[His shoulders set. He'll have to decide quickly. The longer he stays uncertain, the more vulnerable he is, and he has absolutely no time for any bullshit from anyone.]

B

[lapidarius]

[Kakyoin was having a pretty normal day. This city was peaceful enough when one thing or another wasn't going completely insane, which was more often than he'd like. But even though today was normal enough, there had been a nagging sensation in the back of his mind all day. Something he couldn't quite place, but which left him restless and uncertain...no, it was probably nothing. He just needed some air, so he left the training school to wander around the city for a while.]

[...And that was how he found a Stand user he didn't recognize. (Didn't he? He seemed oddly familiar, somehow.) Part of him instantly prepared for a fight, but Hierophant didn't make an appearance yet. This wasn't someone they'd met between Japan and Cairo--it was entirely possible this was just someone like Kakyoin himself, born with a Stand for no apparent reason at all.]

I'm afraid I've never seen it do very much. Actually, I don't even know what it is.

[But somehow, he didn't think it would be that simple. Still, he kept his tone light and casual, wary of the other Stand but pointedly not acknowledging it. First he'd try to get a decent impression of whoever this person was, and work out everything else as he went along.]

I don't think I've seen you before--are you new around here?

[digiorno]

[He was alone when he got to the obelisk, and finds himself frankly a little bit surprised when he hears someone else approaching. He can't imagine how spending much time around this thing would provide much more information than his initial examination is, namely: the obelisk is large and generally inscrutable, and whatever that weird pulsing is, the source of it won't be discovered unless someone actually knocks the damn thing down.]

[Still, his concentration's broken now, for all the good it was doing. He takes a moment to school his expression from irritation into a polite smile before he turns to Kakyoin, Gold Experience shifting just a fraction of a second after he does, coming to stand behind his left shoulder with one arm draped over it.]

It's doing something. I just can't figure out quite what.

[He adjusts his cuffs quickly before he takes a step or two forward, extending his hand, the absolute vision of politeness.]

I just got here a few hours ago. No idea what I'm doing yet, unfortunately. Giorno.

[lapidarius]

Noriaki Kakyoin.

[It was very hard not to look at the other Stand directly while still staying aware of it should the situation go badly. Even wearing sunglasses, he didn't want to risk giving himself away just by glancing over. Kakyoin stayed focused on Giorno, shaking his hand with a pleasant smile all the same.]

Sorry--I shouldn't have interrupted. Is there a way to figure out what it's doing?

[digiorno]

[His handshake is firm, like a politician's. He maintains eye contact as well as he can through the glasses, his smile fixed very naturally in place. It's only once they've broken contact completely that he allows himself to look away (though Gold Experience stays laser-focused on Kakyoin, almost preternaturally still).]

I don't know. If there was a way to break into it, maybe, but something tells me the locals wouldn't be happy with that option.

Still. There's power in there. It shouldn't be ignored.

[lapidarius]

You're right--on both counts, probably. Breaking into it seems like the easiest way to get into more trouble than one can handle, but ignoring it might be just as bad.

[As Kakyoin spoke, he watched Giorno rather than look to the obelisk. Why did he seem so vaguely, distantly familiar? It was almost enough for Kakyoin to write off as being just his imagination, and yet it wasn't insignificant enough to ignore. Least of all with that completely unknown Stand staring at him.]

[But he didn't seem like a threat, and that was what threw him off. He seemed...dangerous, somehow, but not in the same way their enemies had been. Even if Giorno didn't know that Kakyoin was a Stand user as well (at least not yet), it was best to tread as carefully as possible and be ready for a fight all the same.]

...If I could ask a slightly prying question, Giorno--what kind of world did you come here from?

[This distance would be a problem, if it came down to that. There was no way of knowing what his range was, but Kakyoin couldn't survive a fight at close range and he knew it.]

[digiorno]

[Giorno, on the other hand, has sensed nothing in particular about Kakyoin. Which is not to say that he assumed Kakyoin was harmless - generally, nobody was harmless until proven so, and even then, he never quite let his guard down. But thus far, nothing seemed unusual.]

[At least not until that question. The question itself wasn't the problem, it was the way it was framed - a prying question, even though it wasn't, really. It was more making conversation. So why be so tentative about it? It could just have been that Kakyoin was unnecessarily polite, or . . . something else.]

[Giorno tipped his head to one side; Gold Experience smoothed his collar, then took a step back.]

What kind of world? I don't really know how to answer that without anything to compare it to. It seemed very normal to me. A planet called Earth, most of which I never visited and wouldn't be in any position to describe. I'm most familiar with Italy - Naples especially, although I've traveled all over the country. It's a beautiful place, but - [A faint laugh.] I'm biased. There's a lot there that's important to me.

I don't know if that answers your question. [He was quite sure it didn't.]

[lapidarius]

...not quite what I had in mind, but in hindsight I'm really not sure what I expected to hear. That wasn't my most subtle approach to the subject, I apologize.

[For what it was worth, that did sound genuine. Kakyoin laughed a little awkwardly, at a loss for how to proceed. Continuing on this track could either be completely fine, or get him killed again. While he was usually the cautious one of the group, every so often he did something astronomically stupid for the sake of getting results.]

[This was shaping up to be one of Those Days.]

There really is just no delicate way to approach this subject, but I think I can risk asking you outright. And if I'm wrong, well...we can deal with that one way or another.

[Calmly, Kakyoin took off his sunglasses; violet eyes looked from Giorno to his Stand and back again. He didn't call out Hierophant--that was the most important part right now. Present as little of a visual threat as possible, to show he didn't want things to come to a fight if it was necessary.]

What I should have asked is 'do you know a lot of people with friends like yours'?

[His demeanor stayed casual, though every part of him was fully prepared to retreat and launch an attack the minute Giorno or his Stand indicated they might do the same.]

[digiorno]

[There. There it was. Honesty was always nice to encounter, even if it was only partial honesty after all. Giorno felt the shift in conversation as soon as he heard the word risk, and responded accordingly. His posture, already quite alert, went ramrod-straight, shoulders pushing back as he drew himself up to his full height. The only response to the sight of Kakyoin's eyes was a slight narrowing of his own, even though his gaze doesn't linger over the scars.]

[Friends like yours. He leaned back into the barely-perceptible sensation of Gold Experience's touch and pointedly let his smile fade.]

Yes. I do.

[Fewer now than he did once; but all the same.]

It would have been perfectly acceptable to ask that question first instead of playing games, Mr. Kakyoin. I don't have anything to hide.

[Lie. Big lie. But it would have been a lie for anyone, he thought, and so he let it stand.]

B for Birthmark Bonanza

[starmark]

[So there's a problem with this picture, and that problem is the blonde asshole with his nose all but pressed up against the obelisk.

Up until this point, it'd been a pretty average day, or as average as things could really be said to get in a place like the city. He'd gotten up in the morning, he'd trained a little at the school. He'd showered, dressed, and headed out to do whatever errands he could justify running; after fifty days of breakneck travel and goal-oriented life, he's still in the habit of being unable to just sit around. Mundane or not, having something to accomplish helps, even if it's artificial urgency that he draws on to compel him to complete it.

He doesn't generally walk around with Star Platinum out; he saves that for emergencies and threats, trusting his Stand's response time to be quick enough to arrive well before he'll be needed. If it's true that everyone here can see Stands, it's just simpler to leave Star hidden, and avoid the trouble of having to explain over and over what his spooky purple shadow is doing.

But when he reaches the obelisk, and sees the figure standing there, Star's out in an instant, because there is a problem here, and it's this:

There are only supposed to be two Stand users in this city.

This blonde guy, as it turns out, is neither of them.]


Looking for something?


[He almost says "someone", except that the guy's attention is clearly on the obelisk. But after the fifty days he's just lived, a kneejerk mistrust of other Stand users is probably forgivable, even if it also leads to spur-of-the-moment confrontations such as these.

Welcome to the city, Giorno. Feel free to begin your Princess Bride references at any time.]

gain some chill jotaro jfc

[digiorno]

[Something prickles at the back of his neck in the instants before Jotaro speaks - some instinct, tugging at Giorno's metaphorical sleeve, insisting that he pay attention, because there is danger here, and he is, for the first time in a long while, entirely alone. He turns just in time to see the emergence of Star Platinum, and several things happen at once.]

[The first thing is that Gold Experience moves, quite abruptly, in front of him, standing between him and Jotaro and, more importantly, between him and Star Platinum. There's absolutely no point in playing around; they've seen each other, they both know what the other knows, and while Giorno is perfectly confident in his Stand's defense, being sloppy and careless has never been his style.]

[The second thing is that Giorno smiles. It's a thin smile, more a slight baring of teeth than anything, and his eyes go instantly ice-cold. Generally, people who see this smile don't live terribly long. But then again, Giorno is fairly certain that people on the receiving end of the look Jotaro's giving don't fare incredibly well, either.]

[A moment's pause, his eyes on Star Platinum, looking for clues as to its nature, its power; but there is nothing nearly as indicative as the zippers on Sticky Fingers, and so he gives up, letting his gaze shift to Jotaro's face. This boy towers over him, hulking and clearly dangerous, if not already angry then verging on it. But there's nothing even remotely like fear on Giorno's face. In fact, it seems very much as though he's never been afraid in his life.]

Nothing in particular. Is this your obelisk?

[He's still smiling. But he is also instantly In No Mood.]

absolutely not this is a zero-chill zone

[starmark]

[He's seen that smile before, somewhere, and it bothers him that for a few seconds, he can't place where.

What does stand out, though, is the way the other Stand moves, and it's something that Jotaro tracks carefully through narrowed eyes — the way the user responds, the way his Stand reacts. There's a subtle contrast in the way the movement flows, compared to the expression that blossoms on the other boy's face; his instinct is to defend, even if his face gives the impression of being perfectly in control.

And that's...strange.

In fifty days, the Joestar Tour Group had never really...surprised an enemy Stand user. Caught them off-guard, possibly, but that wasn't precisely the same thing. They'd been the ones pursued by Dio's minions, not the other way around; they'd been the ones on guard, and their foes the ones with the advantage toward setting their trap.

It's that train of thought that leads him to the realization he's grasping vaguely at, the thing that seems to be different here, compared to all the other Stand users he's faced and fought in his life before:

This one...doesn't act like he knows who he is.

And that's what doesn't make sense, he gradually realizes — because with his Stand already on display, there's no benefit to pretending he's not really a Stand user, no element of surprise or advantage to be gained in feigning ignorance.

...And that's new. New enough to make him sit up, figuratively, and take notice.]

No more mine than anyone else's.

[What is it about this guy, that seems so familiar?]

You're new here.

maybe take a lap or something then

[digiorno]

[Jotaro doesn't wear the face of one of his enemies. Which, a few months ago, would have been a ridiculous thing to say. His greatest enemy was faceless, an invisible danger, and every Stand user sent out by him a surprise. Not so long ago, Giorno might have been afraid of Jotaro, truly afraid, even if he didn't show it - more for the rest of them than for himself, because he was buoyed along by his dream and they were not, and so they were in infinitely more danger.]

[But now, his enemies are vanquished. His power is absolute, not in the physical sense but the metaphysical and the political. He has men who would die for him in an instant, advisors who are too clever for their own good, friends who have become family, a Stand that can cut through almost anything. He has the power of his own strength of personality. At home, he is untouchable.]

[He is not at home. He is not untouchable. He is being approached by a man who is instantly and effortlessly on the offensive, and his response is to keep himself from harm at least until he figures out what's going on. Unnecessary death is sloppy. If it becomes necessary, well. That's something else entirely.]

[He cocks his head at Jotaro, the smile still fixed in place, and can't quite help the sarcasm leaching into his voice.]

What gave it away?

[Which means don't say stupid things. Say what you mean. This is no time for games. Games are for men who aren't confident in their own power. Games are weak, and Giorno is not weak.]

you're the boss of everything else but not me

[starmark]

[No. No, there's definitely something wrong about this whole thing.

What helps, sort of, is that it hasn't been all that long since Jotaro himself arrived in the city, and the way the boy is acting resonates with that, once he's settled his kneejerk alarm enough to look for it. It's reasonable enough to assume now that he really doesn't know the identity of the person he's looking at; it's reasonable enough to believe that he really is new.

As someone who's just been surprised by an unknown Stand user, he's — reacting exactly the way he should be, isn't he.

The new insight adds perspective to the confrontation, makes a lot more of the nuances make sense. The boy is calm but wary; he's probably not going to jump to attack, but instead will wait to see what his aggressor's first move might be.

That's sort of a new thing to wrap his head around — the notion that he's the threat in this situation.

But that's what fits, so maybe that's the angle he needs to be trying here.]

...You seem like the memorable type. Also the type who makes sure people know who you are.

[Impulsively, he guides Star Platinum to fall back a few steps, sliding his hands into his pockets in search of the pack of cigarettes that ought to be there.]

Since I've got no idea, I'm guessing we've never met before.

[digiorno]

[There's a flicker of a very different kind of smile - genuine, proud verging on smug, certainly self-assured - at Jotaro's observation. Yes; he is exactly these things. People meet him, and they remember him. Another way he is very like his father.]

[Just because Jotaro isn't entirely an idiot doesn't mean Giorno's about to let his guard down, however. If anything, good observational skills indicate even more of a danger, yet another reason to keep on his toes.]

[Gold Experience takes a step back, then another, to stand at Giorno's side, its posture loosening fractionally as Giorno's does. After another moment, he crosses his arms over his chest and shifts his weight, a graceful movement that nevertheless ends with him looking more like a sulky teenager and less like a miniature don. This is, of course, deliberate.]

What made you think we'd have met before in the first place? I don't know anybody in this city.

[Do you? he wonders, but keeps it to himself. A question like that could be perceived as a threat; if someone asked him on first acquaintance, he would think of Mista, of Trish, and would lash out instinctively to keep them safe.]

[starmark]

[It's a good catch, holding back that question. Someday, when the initial wariness and natural suspicion have worn off, they'll likely find it's one of the things they agree quite vehemently on.

There is, after all, a reason he's not going to say that there are only supposed to be two Stand users in this city, and that's what gave this boy away as an outsider. That math is too easy — and it paints a target on Kakyoin, unknowing and unsuspecting, which is something he'll never allow.]

You're a Stand user. People like that have a way of crossing paths.

[Whether by accident or by design, and usually the latter. And usually someone else's design.]

I'm Jotaro Kujo. Guess that means you know me, now.

[digiorno]

[A fractional nod; this is a fair point, although in Giorno's estimation, the reason for this is that powerful people gravitate to powerful positions, and Stands confer an enormous amount of power. It's no wonder that so many of the people he met in his journey to the top were Stand users.]

[This isn't going the way Giorno would have liked it to. If he were at home, he would have the capacity for surveillance, the luxury of taking his time, and although he would not be invisible - he is not Diavolo - he would, at least for a while, be unreachable. Here, Jotaro towers over him, and he is forced to rely only on himself.]

[Well. Back to basics, then.]

[Jotaro Kujo. He's heard that before, and sets the back of his mind to remembering where. In the meantime, his expression doesn't register any surprise; he just nods again and regards Jotaro calmly.]

Giorno Giovanna. Are you going to remember that?

[This last almost a tease, though his lips don't even twitch.]

C

[risorto]

[Well, he's not exactly sure what he was expecting. Not that he spent all that much time contemplating what would come next once it was his time. It didn't really matter. There were better things that he could put his energy into. Right now, he's walking the city's streets to learn them as well as he knew Naples. And he's keeping his eyes peeled for Abbacchio and Narancia. He... He doesn't know what the likelihood is that they ended up in the same place. But he hopes they're safe and not alone wherever they are.]

[What he doesn't admit to himself though is that he's also watching for Trish, Mista, and Giorno. (And even Fugo. He holds no ill will there.) He's not hopeful to see them, but that doesn't mean he doesn't examine the face of every single person he passes, looking for them as well.]

[He's across the street when blonde hair in a coffee shop window catches his eye. He thinks at first that he's seeing things, but that's-- No. He tightens his jaw to keep from his heart sinking. Bruno crosses the street calmly. He refuses to look in the window, even though he knows that he should, and opens the door.]

[He only gets one step inside before what he sees inside causes him to freeze, hand still holding the door open. His brow furrows, a mixture of confusion and anger. He draws a single, steadying breath.]

Giorno...

[digiorno]

[He's finally given in to actually drinking his cappuccino when someone familiar appears across the street, which is why he doesn't look up, why he's put watching the street out of his mind entirely for a few moments. Still-warm milk settles on his tongue, and a smile flickers across his face, brief and cautious and a little shy, boyish in the way he only is when he believes he's by himself.]

[The door opens, and he doesn't pay any attention to it, letting his eyes fall shut so he can compare this cup of coffee to every other one he's ever had. There is nothing in his life, for this brief and uncomplicated moment, but him and the taste of espresso.]

[And then a voice cuts through his reverie like a knife, and his eyes fly open to see - something impossible.]

[It's only through some miracle that his cup doesn't tip over when he drops it, rattling on its base instead until it comes to a sudden stop. Liquid sloshes over the edge and drips down the side, but Giorno isn't paying attention. His fingers go tight on the edge of the table, his only visible reaction beyond a widening of his eyes, the rest of his expression suddenly and carefully blank.]

Bruno?

[He wants to get up and rush over to him. But he can't. He can't move at all.]

[risorto]

[Bruno flexes his fingers subtly at his side. The anger he feels isn't directed at all at Giorno. It's thrown in a number of directions. Diavolo. Circumstances. Fate, if such a thing exists. Himself. But none of it at Giorno. It's a strange pain he feels when it comes to Giorno. Regret, grief, and loss intermingle with a spark of selfish happiness. None of which Bruno knows immediately what to do with.]

[He steps further into the coffee shop, his fingers streaking on the otherwise pristine glass of the front door. They catch for a moment on the wooden frame before allowing the door to swing shut behind him, ringing the bell above it a second time.]

[There are questions that he wants to ask and should ask, but each of them are rushing forward to try and be first. He swallows thickly, choosing just one.]

What happened?

[He isn't supposed to be here. He's supposed to... Well, Bruno doesn't exactly know what the exact path Giorno was supposed to walk, whether he really would have taken over Passione or let it die. But Bruno knows that Giorno was supposed to finish things with Diavolo and then resume his life in whatever way he was happiest. He was supposed to keep his promise to Narancia. He was supposed to look after Mista and Trish. Those basic things at least. But he's here and the implications scare Bruno more than he wants to admit.]

[digiorno]

[He notices, in a distant way, that his fingers are shaking, that his knuckles are white against the table. There is something unholy about this, wrong, and he's trying to cling to that, because it's easier to be confused and uncertain about the ramifications of meeting someone after their death than to succumb to the bittersweet joy he feels at the lie that is the sight of Bruno alive in front of him.]

[With perfect precision (even while trembling), he picks up his napkin and wipes the spilled coffee off the table, looking anywhere but at Bruno. He folds it neatly and lays it beside his mug, presses his lips together, takes another sip.]

You died, Bruno.

[This is almost enough to make his voice shake. Almost, but not quite. He looks up at last, offering a smile that is at once incredibly sad and wholly inappropriate, which doesn't reach his eyes. Then he stands abruptly and begins to cross the room to the counter, for something to do.]

Sit. [In tones that imply he is quite used to being obeyed, now; he can't help it, it's easier than allowing himself to be taken care of.] I'll get you something to drink.

[risorto]

[Bruno doesn't move from the spot he's standing. He recognizes the authority in Giorno's voice, but he's never answered to Giorno. He's listened to him in the past, heeding his advice and insight, but he's never fallen in line behind him. But he doesn't bristle at the command. In an odd way, it fills him with pride. But he doesn't know if that pride is coming too soon with the possibilities of how he managed to get here. So that brief smile that his lips curve into quickly fades back into something neutral.]

I know what happened to me, Giorno, [he says this a little softer, a little gentler than he intends to. He's not really sure where it comes from or why it's there.] I'm talking about what happened to you. To Mista and Trish. [A beat.] To Diavolo.

[digiorno]

[He could have dealt with reprimand, but Bruno never was the type. He could have handled anger, but there's nothing to be angry about, not really, not on either side. Silence would have been wonderful, would have allowed him long moments to pull himself together - but no.]

[What he gets instead is kindness, and Giorno, Don Giovanna, head of Passione, is utterly unprepared for it. His shoulders stiffen as he freezes on the way to the counter, as he considers whether or not to turn or to keep going.]

[In the end, he turns, his expression unreadable, and he offers the facts, just the facts, in tones that sound like a report.]

Diavolo is dead.

[Dead dead dead. Over and over again dead, locked in a never-ending loop of his own carnage, and Giorno doesn't regret it, he doesn't regret a thing. You killed my family. You deserve this.]

Trish and Mista are fine. We all made it through.

Passione is mine now.

[This is different from saying I am don. Even the don can have an incomplete grasp over his own domain. But Passione belongs to him, and nothing happens without him knowing about it, and he is changing things, slowly but surely and irreversibly.]

[His expression doesn't change at all from its carefully blank facade, but what he says next comes out without his permission.]

I missed you.

[risorto]

[For a moment, Bruno can only stand there in what feels like a mild amount of disbelief. It's exactly as it should be. It's most everything he could have wanted and allowed himself to hope for. It's easy to not believe--even though Giorno would never lie about something like that to Bruno, not now--because when have good things like this come into any of their lives? Even Trish, who had remained untouched by all of this for so long, couldn't lead a simple and quiet life any longer. But he knows it's true and there's a peace that washes over him that feels even deeper and even more calming than when he departed from the world.]

[They are safe and they are happy. Bruno's gaze begins to wander away from Giorno, not entirely focused any longer as some of the tension he was holding slips away. He is immensely proud of Giorno. Not just for finishing things, but for taking control of his life, of Passione. He knows that Giorno is turning it into what it always should have been and he has the skills, the personality to hold it together. He thinks some of the others had been mistaken, had thought that Bruno would take over after everything was said and done. But Bruno knew deep down, that was never meant for him. His job was to get Giorno there. It took a while to see that part, but he realized it very quickly as Giorno seemed to grow up right before his eyes.]

[I missed you. Bruno's gaze snaps back to Giorno.]

I don't regret anything.

[He feels that's important to say. To re-establish. For Giorno. And... And for himself. It's only standing here now that Bruno realizes that he had accepted his death a while ago now, but this is different. He hadn't expected to be confronted by anyone left behind after the fact. Not until much, much later, if ever.]

[He moves over to the table where Giorno had been seated, resting both hands on the back of the chair opposite Giorno's.]

You haven't exactly given me a lot of time to miss you in return. [He turns his head a little to look at Giorno again.] Or maybe it's something else that's given me time back.

[He hesitates to say it because it's an incredibly overwhelming thing to say aloud. It's something he's only acknowledged in his head up until this point.]

I feel alive.

[He can see and hear. He can feel things beneath his fingers. He's touched his skin and it feels warm. His heart is beating steady. But he doesn't understand how that's possible or how long it will last. If it will last.]

[digiorno]

[Well. He can't help but smile at that, even if it is a bit strained. Of course Bruno doesn't regret anything. He isn't the type to do that, either. Certainly not the type to begrudge others their safety, or to put any priority on his own. He would, and did, work himself to the bone for his gang, for his family, and see no problem with that whatsoever.]

[Giorno would not have followed him, in the beginning, if he were any different. It makes him sad now, though, a very simple and pure sadness undiluted by resentment or anger. He knows Bruno did what he needed to do. But he missed him, all the same.]

[He steps back to the table, allows his gaze to fall to the wooden surface, to the sticky streaks where he'd only half-successfully cleaned up his spill. There are dried coffee bubbles on the side of his otherwise-pristine white cup. The imperfection is pleasing, in a way, a natural intrusion of reality in a day that was seeming far too simple to belong in Giorno's life.]

[I feel alive, Bruno says, and Giorno lifts his eyes again, meeting Bruno's gaze with an expression both sharp and crystal-clear. After a moment, he holds out his hand.]

May I?

[Though the question is perfunctory; he doesn't give Bruno time to give or deny permission, but, in his entitled way, simply takes Bruno's wrist in his hand and tests his pulse with two fingers.]

[His smile is an impossibly quick bloom, bright as a hothouse flower, all teeth and little-boy pleasure. He taps out the rhythm of Bruno's heartbeat, the thump-thump, thump-thump that proves success.]

It wasn't me.

[It can't have been him. Because it worked.]