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[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]

[He's counting along, looking very intent in his own quiet way.]

...That many? Wow! Also, I want to meet all of them. Especially Purple Haze, because they already sound like a darling.

Can I meet them all? Please?

[digiorno]

Carlos, Purple Haze will probably murder you. You should start smaller than that. And less murderous.

[whatitis]

I want to meet it.

[He is Determined.]

How big can they get? Like, when you say start smaller, do you mean that literally?

[digiorno]

Ah. Well . . . Aerosmith isn't very big. But the smallest one - ones - were Sex Pistols, only they're not here anymore. They're--

[He holds out his finger and thumb a few inches apart.]

Like so.

[whatitis]

And, from my understanding, they're bound to one person alone? Even if there's more than one?

...Do you name them, by the way? Who names their powerful spiritual manifestation Sex Pistols?

[digiorno]

[Giorno makes such a face.]

My Mista does. Don't make fun, they're my favorite. [Tiny bullet children.]

[whatitis]

Is that another kind of Italian slang? Mista?

[Hesitantly, he pushes the notebook over.]

Also, if you could draw 'em, that'd be neat.

[digiorno]

No . . . Guido Mista, that's his name.

[Edging towards a sulk now, he pats the table for a pen.]

I'm not much of an artist, I can't do them justice.

[whatitis]

Well, you did use the possessive article "my".

[Wink wink nudge nudge. No, he's literally wink-nudging Giorno.]

Regardless, as you can observe...I'm not an artist, either. I just need the general idea, if that's alright?

[digiorno]

Yes. That's because he's mine.

[He seems very firm on this, winking and nudging notwithstanding. Mista is his; this is just true. And once he locates his pen, he lapses into concentrated, perfectionistic silence.]

[It's true that he's very obviously not an artist. It's also true that he's clearly determined to do his best here. He spends a lot of time on each thing he draws - most on the Pistols, ostensibly because there are more of them, but really because he's a little obsessive. He draws them all and numbers them; anything resembling four is neatly omitted, of course. Cinque is depicted, realistically, as crying. They are all riding on top of a gun. After some thought, Giorno adds a pepperoni pizza next to them.]

[Next he draws Hierophant, although this time he seems less interested in the specific details than in a sense of fluidity and movement. He also draws him next to Star, because of course he does. After a little more thought, he draws one of Hierophant's tentacle things wrapping around Star's arm.]

[Then he adds a speech bubble coming out of Star's mouth. It says ORA! Another one for Gold Experience: MUDA! And then he sits back, apparently satisfied.]

[whatitis]

Well, that's very nice. I'm happy for you.

[The winking and nudging ceases as he watches Giorno draw, occasionally saying things like "hm" or "very nice". This is only standard scientfic procedure, of course. Saying "hm" is very important.]

[As Giorno concludes his artistry, Carlos points to the "ORA", and then to the "MUDA".]

What do these signify? Is it a label?

[And then, the pizza.]

Is that a label?

[digiorno]

No, they're not labels. They're things that they say. See, they're in bubbles.

[He points to the ORA.] That's what Star says. I don't know if it means anything, but sometimes he yells it and sometimes he just says it. And that-- [He points to the MUDA.] That's what Gold Experience says, sometimes. Not as much as Star says it. It means "useless".

That-- [He points to the pizza.] Is not a label. It's a pizza. In case the Pistols get hungry.

[whatitis]

And I guess this tentacle-y looking one is...Hierophant, was it? Hierophant.

[He POINTS at the Stand in question.]

This one looks like a friend. They all look like friends. I'm going to meet all of them.

--Which one is Purple Haze?

[digiorno]

Yes, that's Hierophant. Hierophant is wonderful. He likes to hold my hand sometimes.

[He is so fucking chuffed about being buddies with Hierophant, you would not even believe. Hierophant is so great.]

Purple Haze is not there. I am not going to draw Purple Haze.

[whatitis]

Why not? Purple Haze sounds fun, and everyone knows it's the best Hendrix song. Is there something wrong with it?

[While Carlos does have some semblance of a sense of personal danger, he's also really good at ignoring when his Danger Meter is in the red, when he wants to.]

...I mean, if you don't want to draw it, that's alright. I'm just curious.

[digiorno]

[Giorno frowns sharply.]

If I tell you what's wrong with it, you might just want to go near it more.

[whatitis]

All the more reason to tell me, Giorno. Who does it belong to?

[He looks excited, even though they're talking about Purple Haze, of all things. What a weirdo.]

[digiorno]

[He looks at Carlos - his friend Carlos, who stays up for days on end in order to further his projects, who doesn't think that he's worth being high on Giorno's priority list. And then he thinks of Fugo, whose position in the house is tenuous as it is, Fugo who he isn't sure whether to trust or not.]

[Then he shakes his head.]

I will not tell you that. But I can tell you about Sticky Fingers, if you want me to.

[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.]