ic inbox || ruby city

[whatitis]

Hey, you've reached the voicemail of Carlos [heavily distorted feedback punctuated by sharp clicking noises], leave a message after the collective screech of eight different kinds of buzzards.

Comments

[whatitis]

[Briefly, he looks disappointed, before managing to shake it off.]

That one sounds fun, too! Tell me stuff. All the stuff.

[His coffee is long cold, like so many other half-discarded cups lying around the lab.]

[digiorno]

. . . All right.

[He scoots a little closer to Carlos on the bench, tilting the notebook so he can see as Giorno draws. If he was careful before, now he's painstaking, devoted to accuracy.]

Sticky Fingers . . . could be a very boring Stand, if its user were not very clever. But in the right hands, it is so versatile. Magnifico. Sticky Fingers . . .

[As he says this, he's drawing the Stand's left hand in loving detail. He finishes the tab of the zipper and smirks.]

Can unzip the world. What do you think of that?

[whatitis]

[Giorno why do you have a crush on like EVERY Stand. Furthermore, why EVERY Stand except Purple Haze. Purple Haze is the cutest, scientifically speaking.]

How neat! That's such an interesting concept--when you say unzip the world, does it just...does it just--zip? And there's something on the other side? That's very cool. And fashionable!

["Fashionable" isn't the best praise coming from someone who wears suspenders with jeans, but he's trying.]

[digiorno]

[Because Stands are beautiful, just like their users, who are also beautiful. Everyone is beautiful. Except Purple Haze.]

There's nothing on the other side. An empty space, for him to use for whatever he wants. It's just somewhere else.

[Yes, his mom is very fashionable, thank you for noticing.]

[whatitis]

[Purple Haze is lovely. It's huge and gross and LOVELY.]

Somewhere else...that sounds very nice. Are only some of the Stands sentient?

[Somewhere in that mess of a notebook, there's probably a couple more doodles of Gold Experience.]

[digiorno]

That is such a good question, Carlos.

[He is so delighted you have asked this question.]

I don't know! The Pistols are sentient, but they break all of the rules anyway. Star is a little bit, but Jotaro isn't sure how much. And Gold Experience . . . feels things that aren't mine sometimes, but I don't really know how far that extends, either.

[whatitis]

That's super interesting. How connected are you to Mr. Experience?

[He's cramming more notes in, somehow--crossing out things now proved obsolete, scribbling and scribbling and scribbling.]

[digiorno]

Oh. Hm.

[He peers over Carlos's shoulder, watching him write.]

I don't know if I have a very scientific answer for that. Very - I'm very connected. If he hurts, I hurt; if I'm weakened, he's weakened. Sometimes - like I said. He feels things and then I feel them too, and I think it goes the opposite way as well. But I haven't really had a chance to experiment with that much.

[whatitis]

[There's Lots! Of! Exclamation! Points! in the way he writes, peppered here and there with tangents and dead-ends. It's pretty impressive that he can even understand the way he writes.

When Giorno's name is written, the "i" is dotted with a heart, which signifies that you're lucky enough to be a pal to Carlos and also have an "i" in your name.]

Can he talk? Besides "muda", I mean.

[digiorno]

[Oh no. He is so blessed. It could only conceivably be better if it had glitter on it.]

Um. He does say one other thing. Only when I'm very . . . frustrated.

[Giorno glances sideways, a little embarrassed, and then Gold Experience manifests besides the table and lets out the tiniest "wry".]

thats the cutest fucking icon first of all

[whatitis]

[Carlos claps!!!]

That was very good! I mean...not if you're frustrated, but it's still interesting to observe.

Does that phrase mean anything, or is it just a noise?

[He's...not addressing Giorno, just Gold Experience. He's gonna wait for a response until one comes.]

winks

[digiorno]

[As much as expression can be determined from Gold Experience, who is really as much insectoid as humanoid, he looks. Well. Uncertain. Turns his head to Giorno, who appears utterly impassive.]

[Then he shrugs. So. No idea, buddy.]

[whatitis]

[To be honest, he looks a little...crushed, but he'll take it in stride! Probably!]

Do you know how much he can comprehend?

[This question is directed straight at Giorno, this time. Might as well get results from the source, and all that.]

[digiorno]

He understands everything I do. Because of that connection, see? The real trouble is differentiating his reaction and my reaction.

Jotaro and I were playing around with it a while ago, though.

[whatitis]

He's a lot like you, but shinier and bigger and quieter. What a guy!

[He stops writing, fixing the boy and his Stand with a curious eye. There's something a bit more...calculating, perhaps, than usual. No, that's not the word. He's appraising.]

Jotaro, huh? Jotaro Kujo, I'm assuming. And the purple one is his, right?

[digiorno]

[It makes him giggle a little bit. What a guy. Carlos is adorable. Even that appraising, that's adorable too.]

That's right. Star Platinum is his. Star is the sweetest.

[Star Platinum literally punched his father to death, and yet.]

[whatitis]

He seems like an interesting man. Pretty interesting, indeed.

[The appraising look intensifies, briefly, before he forces a bright smile.]

I think I've met...his mother, maybe? His mother. They don't hardly look alike, do they?

[Also, his dad deserved that and you know it.]

[digiorno]

Oh? Just his mother?

[Giorno pages through the notebook idly, as if he's mostly thinking about something else.]

She's lovely. His whole family is lovely.

[whatitis]

[There's nothing more Stand-related, though there are a few more crayon drawings of various city creatures, and what looks to be some creative writing about the Mothman.]

His whole family?

[Time to wring additional information Jonathan didn't give about the family out of Giorno.]

[digiorno]

His whole family.

[He hums and starts reading the short story. Ooh, Mothman. Delightful.]

[Never let it be said that Giorno does not love to be bribed, okay.]

[whatitis]

Who would that be? Siblings? Children? Long-deceased blood ancestors?

[You?]

[The Mothman story is pretty blatant self-insert slashfic, as it is. It's pretty well written, though...?]

[digiorno]

Well, you know me. I'm not one to talk out of turn.

[The taste of a liar. He taps the page.]

You have good use of metaphor here.

[whatitis]

Are you talking out of turn, though? As far as I know, we're alone. Just chatting about family.

[He glances down at the notebook, nodding.]

Thanks, I worked hard on that one.

[digiorno]

Well . . .

[He sighs softly and turns to Carlos, resting his chin in his hand.]

I can't imagine what you want to know. What do you want to know?

[whatitis]

Just, y'know. What you know. The basics. How much of his family is in the city?

[His voice is noticably not Absurdly Shrill, for once in his life. Very focused here. Important stuff, like Mothman fanfic and bloodlines.]