rubycity_ooc | August Test Drive!

Entry tags:

August Test Drive!

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Gods and Tarot cards. What a strange thing to say. The more Kakyoin said about his own experiences and expectations, the more Giorno wanted to know, and yet - asking would invite asking, and there were innumerable things he had no desire to talk about with a stranger. Still, there was a bright spark of curiosity in Giorno's eyes now, and he couldn't quite keep himself from at least implying a question.]

Your apologies aren't necessary. Caution is completely understandable.

I do remember what you said, though. That you're used to Stand users aiming to kill you. My experience is generally similar.

Is that right? I'm starting to think having one at all is just an invitation for trouble. Not to say that I'm complaining, of course. I don't know what I'd do without him.

[Likewise, Kakyoin was finding he wanted to ask several things, all of them half-formed questions and a couple--why do you look so familiar--bordering on accusation.]

[He did at least find that reasonable--there were obviously other Stand users in the world, and powers like that would inevitably lead to fighting for one reason or another. Even so, he was already curious as to what kind of things Giorno could have been involved with. Surely it wasn't as chaotic as the trip to Egypt...right?]

I suppose it does make sense. I've never really stopped to consider just how many people in the world might have Stands themselves.

[A sideways glance at Gold Experience, then. A life without it . . . would be very confusing. Very lonely, too; there were a number of people in his life now that he would be without if not for his Stand. He did realize he was lucky in this, did not take it for granted, but thinking about what could happen if, somehow, he lost it - some still-childish part of him very staunchly didn't want to.]

[So he didn't, focusing again instead on the man in front of him, his expression shifting back to scrutiny, although his shrewdness never quite crossed over into sadism. Which was for the best; his features were similar enough that even a hint of cruelty showed his roots. Another part of the reason he schooled his expression so carefully.]

Too many. And many of them are irresponsible, or greedy, or selfish, or want power for the sake of power and have the strength to take it for themselves. Stands enable human cruelty to reach new heights, like any kind of power does.

[None of which he entirely meant to say, all of which he fervently believed. Diavolo would have been dangerous without his Stand. With it, he was very nearly unstoppable, and furthermore was able to push past his own humanity and leave all mercy behind.]

[Why did this situation suddenly cause a creeping sense of dread to find its way down his spine? Not a single word Giorno was saying was strictly wrong as far as he was concerned, but something about the way he spoke felt...familiar.]

[There was no way Kakyoin had met this person before; first of all, he'd never been to Italy, and second he was reasonably sure he'd remember encountering someone like this.]

[Something just was not right here.]

But they also grant others the power to fight against people like that.

[He nodded, then, some of the tension in his shoulders relaxing. Kakyoin had a fair point. There was Diavolo, a malignant narcissist, and then there was Trish, a girl whose only crime was not entirely knowing herself. There was Dio, and then . . . well. Giorno was not naive and thus could in no way call himself selfless, but he was not his father any more than Trish was. They were divergent, anomalies, fighting every minute of every day to be their own selves instead of what history and fate prescribed for them.]

You're right. It's easy to forget, sometimes. I can be - hyper-focused, you could say, on things that require fixing. A fault, maybe.

[Lie: he did not consider it a fault.]

It sounds like you hold onto optimism better than I do.

I don't know if I'd call it optimism.

[Shaking his head, Kakyoin put his sunglasses back on and tried to brush aside how unsettled he felt. It must have been nothing, or just his imagination--because for just a second, this conversation had started poking at a memory he did not want to recall.]

I'm just one of those people stupid enough to fight for that kind of thing.

Oh . . . I don't know if I'd call it stupidity, either. I've fought, too.

[For himself; for the defeat of a murky evil; for power; for his friends, who became his family. He fought for a great many things, and he conquered everything he faced up against, often at an absolutely devastating cost. Maybe it was that cost that made him so perfectly aware of the intersection between power and cruelty, and his own occasional barely-guilty flash of sadism.]

[He never wanted power only for the sake of power, but the results of holding Italy in the palm of his hand certainly didn't hurt.]

[He cocked his head to one side, regarding Kakyoin carefully with a near-predatory look. Why had he put the glasses back on? Was it a sign of retreat, or an effort to close a particular line of conversation? Had Giorno said something wrong without meaning to, or reminded him of something he shouldn't have? Maybe, he thought, he should clarify; and that smile came again, but this time, he couldn't quite hold back a hint of self-satisfaction.]

It's just that I've won, that's all.

...

[He was certain that wasn't meant as an insult--Giorno couldn't possibly know what had happened to Kakyoin before coming here. There was just no way, so that had to be an offhand remark and nothing more.]

[But the cold chill that had settled in the region of a formerly shattered spine was too much to ignore. Behind him, Hierophant moved only to wrap a single coil loosely around its user's hand--planning for a quick escape if necessary, rather than engage in a fight.]

[When he spoke again, it was with a serious expression; the glasses were both to put a measure of distance between them in a metaphorical sense and to hide any uncertainty he might have been showing.]

Who exactly are you, Giorno Giovanna?

[Well. That was definitely a question, wasn't it. There were endless things he had no desire to tell anyone, a list of secrets that were either his alone or his and Passione's, and the latter weren't in any way his to tell. He might, at this point, lie, make up a cover story and report it as seamlessly as the truth. But he had no desire to make an enemy of the first person he'd really spoken to in the city.]

[More than that, he would not deny his own victory. Too many people died for him to sweep it under the rug.]

Don Giorno Giovanna, Mr. Kakyoin. That's who I am.

[This was what mattered: he held power. At home, it was concrete, respected. Here, he would have to fight for it again. But it was his power, all the same, and he would not let it go.]

Is that really all there is to it?

[What Kakyoin was focused on was a hell of a lot bigger than the mafia as far as he was concerned. While he still was going out of his way not to present a threat, he was visibly on edge at this point. He knew where he'd spoken to someone like this before--all charm and composure, with some indescribable danger lurking under the surface.]

I said I didn't want to start a fight, and I still don't intend to. But if we should somehow have a...mutual acquaintance as I'm starting to suspect we might, I'd like to know.

Veiled threats are still threats, Mr. Kakyoin.

[His voice now was smooth as ice, charm an effortless veil over every word. He was still very much Giorno, his youth apparent in his face and his body, the soft line of his jaw and the lilt in his tense voice. But there was Dio in him now, too, quite a bit more apparent than it had been thus far, in the heavy weight of his stare, his eyes sharp and unblinking.]

There's a great deal more to me than I like to disclose at first acquaintance. I think this is true of everyone; no one likes to share all their secrets. But I will make a deal with you: you tell me what you suspect, since you obviously do suspect something, and I will tell you if it's true.

For what it might be worth, that came out a little more harsh than I'd hoped it would.

[But that reaction all but confirmed it, and he didn't know what to make of that. It would be wrong to condemn Giorno for what he hadn't done and presumably had no hand in at all, and yet it was very easy for Kakyoin to let that sense of dread find a firm hold on him.]

Your....father, I'm guessing. He was a Stand user as well...one who spent some time in Egypt, am I correct?

You're doing it again.

[Something sharp in his tone now, and that was not Dio at all. Dio was used to getting his way through a careful combination of threats and seduction, whereas Giorno lived now in a world of physical force and machismo. Both of them were used to getting their own way, but they did it very differently. Giorno never threatened. He commanded, and Kakyoin's willful disobedience was beginning to rankle.]

Your caution is officially misplaced. You believe I'm dangerous, and yet you don't play your cards, as if holding back your hand will make me any less who I am, as if we don't both know exactly what you're asking. No hiding, no games. We show our weapons, you and I, or this conversation ends.

What you mean to say is, "Don Giovanna, your father was Dio Brando." Isn't that what you mean? Ask me, and I'll answer. Waste my time with sideways questions and euphemisms, and I'll leave.

...

[This really wasn't a situation he was used to. Kakyoin kept information to himself so that he could use it as a weapon; that was how he functioned, the user of a subtle and quiet Stand that made fights into a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to strike. But it was becoming clear that Giorno Giovanna was not someone who allowed anyone to gain the upper hand on him; that he'd fight on his own terms, whether that fight was verbal or physical.]

[Fine. If he wanted an all-out direct approach, Kakyoin would play against his usual strategy. Taking off his sunglasses again, he looked steadily at Giorno and spoke plainly:]

Was your father Dio Brando--that is, are you or are you not related to the person that killed me?

[There it was: what he'd expected and something more, too, something worse. That was the strange thing. Physical distance and personal choices had made it so that he had never met anyone directly affected by Dio, except for his mother. He had never actually done this before, never spoken to any kind of victim of Dio's, much less someone he'd killed.]

[It became clear, then, that Noriaki Kakyoin was one of those who brought an end to his father, and, because Giorno was only human, he felt a brief and easily-squashed pang of regret. Here was someone who had met Dio, even momentarily, known him, even if only through cruelty, a connection to a past that Giorno never quite knew what to do with.]

[There was a certain fascination in this, but - it bore repeating - Giorno was not stupid. Kakyoin did not deserve morbid curiosity. Furthermore, he had finally done as Giorno asked, and so he deserved a measure of respect.]

[With careful, smooth movements, Giorno stepped back a few paces, not to retreat but to give Kakyoin space, and nodded as Gold Experience draped its arm around his shoulders again, almost protectively.]

Yes. My father was Dio Brando, the man who murdered you.

Fantastic. [He brought a hand to his head, feeling what was probably the start of one hell of a tension headache. But that was all he did. Kakyoin didn't advance or make any move to attack, letting Giorno distance himself without objection.]

I want this to be clear right now--I'm not in the habit of holding people responsible for things they had nothing to do with. But I had to be certain of that, I hope you understand.

[Slowly, he folded his arms--Hierophant's coil moved from Kakyoin's arm to his shoulder in a similar fashion. As unsettled as he was, Giorno hadn't...done anything. There was no reason to act like they were enemies just based on one single fact.]

You didn't recognize my name, which means it's highly unlikely you were involved at all. [Everyone (or damn close to it) that worked for Dio would almost certainly recognize the name 'Noriaki Kakyoin', but Giorno hadn't so much as blinked.] So I don't want either of us to think the other's about to throttle them, assuming that is an absurd thing to expect.

[For a moment, all he did was watch Kakyoin - the way he moved and the way he didn't, the way Hierophant moved in response to him, the clear way he was holding himself back. He always seemed to be holding himself back in some way, didn't he; a very controlled person, Giorno thought, because someone lesser would be angry, and Kakyoin was . . . something else.]

[He nodded, then, his fingers coming up to graze over Gold Experience's.]

Yes. I do understand.

I was only a few years old when he died; I was a talented child, but not that talented. And I have no intention of killing anyone who doesn't come after me first.

[Perhaps this was telling, the way he went from zero to sixty in a phrase like that. He was not Dio, but he was don, and even before that, there was a certain ruthlessness in him, an affinity less toward cruelty than toward the swift and irreversible follow-through of justice.]

[One hand came up to touch his lips as he wondered, vaguely, what gave it away. What part of him was so irrepressibly his father's that Kakyoin had seen it? Something he said, some gesture, some expression? Would he be able to stamp it out, with practice? Would he want to?]

Neither do I. [Gradually, the rigid tension Kakyoin hadn't even been aware was in his shoulders began to leave.] So I'm relieved to know it won't come to that.

[It was easy to be angry and hate Dio, and he certainly did that much without a problem. Maybe it would be easy to hate Giorno by extension, but it wouldn't be right. Being that kind of spiteful person didn't suit Kakyoin, and the idea left an unpleasant taste in his mouth to even consider.]

[As long as what he was saying was true (and Kakyoin found himself believing it was) then as far as he was concerned, there was nothing Giorno needed to answer for in regards to his father.]

A few years old-...? What year was it, when you left?

[Every ounce of tension that left Kakyoin's body allowed Giorno to relax an infinitesimal amount as well. Gold Experience's fingers curled on his shoulder, then gradually his Stand pulled away, backing towards the obelisk again, a silent sentinel, a just-in-case.]

[His head cocked, wondering where this line of questioning was going. If there was still a point; but it was Kakyoin, wasn't it, so there was always a point.]

2001. February. I'm fifteen, if that helps your math.

[Truthfully, there hadn't been a point beyond simple curiosity--at least, there hadn't been at first. But as he considered that fact, Kakyoin realized that raised some highly confusing issues about bloodline given the state of everything below Dio's neck.]

[...questions he frankly neither wanted to ask nor know the answer to right now, to spare his own sanity.]

It was 1988 for me. January sixteenth.

[5:15 PM, Cairo time. He remembered it down to the specific details, but the context of that night down to the exact minute weren't necessary. He suspected Giorno would understand what that meant all the same.]

I'm obviously not the one that killed him. But I suppose you have the right to know that wasn't for lack of trying.

[What a curious concept. You have the right to know. If the tables were turned, Giorno couldn't imagine himself allowing Kakyoin a right to anything. He hadn't been in a position to make those sorts of allowances in a long time, to show that sort of mercy, and it was odd, really, receiving it from someone else, for all that they'd both already declared no overt ill will towards the other.]

[No, Giorno would not be merciful. Not in that other, imaginary circumstance. But in this one, here and now, he could at least be gracious.]

[He nodded fractionally, his fingers lacing together in front of him.]

I'm sorry you didn't get the opportunity.

[And - then he remembered, it's just that I won, that's all, and flushed slightly, pursing his lips.]

What I said before - it was insensitive. I'm sorry for that, too.

No--forget it. You couldn't possibly have realized.

[But he paused as a thought occurred to him; were their roles switched and Kakyoin had unknowingly given himself away as being similar to someone like that, wouldn't there be some crucial information that he would want?]

...It wasn't quite that which gave you away, not specifically. You're...charming, Giovanna. Charming, but anyone that would know what to look for can tell there's something dangerous to you--and I'm not only talking about your Stand.

But you're missing something he had. Hearing him talk came with a sense of fear so overwhelming that it surpasses any possible ability to describe it, and yet he was so charismatic that it was impossible to do anything but listen.

[Kakyoin resisted the nervous urge to look away and remained as focused on Giorno as possible as he spoke.]

...I don't feel that from you. I can tell that you're dangerous--probably more so than I can handle--but I can't pick up on any reason to be afraid of you, rational or otherwise.

If it's any consolation, there aren't many people other than me that could see that kind of thing as being any quality he had. [As an afterthought--and unaware of any significance--he said half to himself:] No, I guess Polnareff probably could, too. We'd both spoken to him before, right?

Edited (oops) 2015-08-18 20:28 (UTC)

[His brow furrowed at the assessment. It wasn't wrong, exactly; Kakyoin was, in fact, describing two of the strengths that had carried him furthest in Passione, traits that had allowed him not only to survive but to command and lead, and which had given him the ability to show Diavolo a fate he richly deserved.]

[And yet the way Kakyoin spoke about the similarities between Giorno and Dio, it came with a weight of personal experience that a simple murder couldn't convey. So what had it been, then? Torture? Certainly not out of the realm of possibility, but charm is significantly more difficult to convey during torture, so Giorno dismissed that for the moment. No, there was something else there, something more, a greater crime than death, some other monstrosity.]

[He had to know what. He had to, not only for his own sake but for Kakyoin's; he did not want to repeat it, and he absolutely didn't want to repeat it in Kakyoin's presence.]

[All of which he was very staunchly focused on until he heard a familiar name, and then - he stood bolt upright, eyes widening with a faint glimmer of hope, and he asked the question before he'd even fully parsed what Kakyoin was saying.]

Mr. Polnareff's here?

Wait--what?

[While he'd been willing or at least prepared to explain just how he'd met Dio in the first place, Giorno's next question momentarily threw that resignation to an unpleasant subject out the window.]

He's-...I haven't seen him here, but how on earth do you know Polnareff?

He's my--

[What was the right way to put this, really . . . Polnareff's status within Passione was somewhat nebulous, given his less-than-normal physical state, and besides - people still treated him somewhat as an outsider, despite Giorno's attempts to weave him into the fabric of the family.]

[He took a moment to temper his excitement - Polnareff was not here, no one from home was here, he was still alone - and then pulled his braid over his shoulder to toy with the end of it, acquiescing at last to a single nervous gesture.]

Adviser. He's my adviser, and a member of my family. He helped me end the life of a very dangerous man.

August Test Drive!

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