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Entry tags:
you’re my golden hour ( open )
Who: Giorno Giovanna & open
When: Throughout Iuneril
Where: Aefenglom and the Underground
What: Quests, the Underground, and Litha
Warnings: Underage drinking in Litha prompts. Should anything else come up, I’ll warn in subject lines and/or lock as necessary.
i. actors wanted
When: Throughout Iuneril
Where: Aefenglom and the Underground
What: Quests, the Underground, and Litha
Warnings: Underage drinking in Litha prompts. Should anything else come up, I’ll warn in subject lines and/or lock as necessary.
i. actors wanted
Not again!ii. berry picking
[Never let it be said that Giorno is a good actor. Not when he actually knows that he’s acting, anyway. After all, there’s a difference between acting and lying, especially when it comes to lying for a cause. This, though?]
[This is a nightmare.]
[Throwing his arm over his face, he sighs in despair and leans back against the wall outside the shop that has most recently hired him for his dubious skills. The sign over the door reads: Hurts, Donut? This probably reflects their choices overall.]
Once again, I’ve been given cake with no convenient handle. [And indeed. He is holding . . . a handful of cake. Such regret on his face.] When will this city provide the innovation I seek? [When will someone remove him from the public eye. When will someone give him a mute button.]
[So far, this has simply been a pleasant errand. It’s an overcast day, so much so that he’s able to get away with going out towards evening and wearing a big hat with long sleeves. It’s more of a relief than he expects, escaping the oppression of nights-only excursions and a purely nocturnal existence to do something as simple as pick berries.]iii. kraken rights
[Which he’s never done, for the record. When would he have? It’s not something he thinks is a big deal, or would care to mention, but—]
I’ve never done this before.
[. . . Oh?]
There isn’t space for anything like this in the city. [With a faint smile, he pulls himself victoriously out of a bush and gently slides another handful of iunerberries into his basket. The smile, soft yet intense, then rounds on his companion.] It’s not bad, though. Relaxing, maybe?
[Maybe. He doesn’t seem to have noticed his own disclosure, which wouldn’t mean much for anyone else but would have given him pause under normal circumstances. Then again, this expedition has only just started. Who knows what could happen from here? Feel free to find him at any point on this journey, including the tail end of his berry picking trip, at which point he’s devolved entirely into a giggling mess sitting cross-legged beside a bush and smiling at nothing much.]
[The thing is . . .]iv. underground: the city
[The thing is that Giorno has very specific interests. Animals are, of course, preferred over people, even (especially) the ones that the average person might not appreciate. Fond reveries over unusual snake species are common. And while he’s not as curious about mammals as non-mammals, he has been known to say that one of the few upsides of vampirism is the tiny bat form.]
[It’s not terribly surprising, then, that his reaction to Captain Heuf’s request for assistance killing a kraken is . . . mixed. His first instinct is to mistrust what he’s been told. He even confronts the captain about it — politely — and finds himself unsatisfied by the answer: that the kraken is outside of its normal territory, openly and consistently attacking ships, and that generally hunting krakens is kind of a stupid idea, given the risks. The captain is personable as ever, charming and trustworthy, and Giorno leaves with the impression that the quest is exactly as it seems on the surface.]
[Which won’t do, obviously. That’s why he can be found behind stacks of books for the next several days after this conversation. Understanding of the kraken’s biology and history as a predator to humanity is shaky at best, but he absorbs every bit of it from every old tome he can get his hands on, whether at the Coven library, Mirrorbound-run bookshops, or the Purramid Cafe, before or after his shifts. With his face buried in a book, he’s likely too focused to notice someone approaching before his name is called a couple of times. At some points, he can even be found dozing, head dropping low before he snaps himself upright again. This is Serious Research that warrants such dedicated concentration, obviously.]
[Giorno steps warily in the Underground, at least at first. The place is interesting, but almost entirely a mystery; more than that, there’s something inherently disquieting about seeing a place in reality that you saw in a dream, as though a line has been trespassed somehow. It seems wrong, or at the very least foreboding.]v. litha
[Ironically, it’s the sight of a pickpocket that makes him feel more comfortable. This particular individual doesn’t target him, either through luck or observation. However, they do go after another Mirrorbound, and after a few moments of thought Giorno decides it’s better to cut this off at the pass than let it continue. The pickpocket makes a soft noise of surprise as the too-strong grip of Giorno’s fingers circles around his wrist. Clearing his throat, he draws the attention of the thief’s target.]
Excuse me. Would you mind checking your pockets? I don’t think they got you, but just in case.
[This would actually be a great opportunity for him to steal something now that everyone’s sufficiently distracted. Thinking emoji.]
[Naturally, he can also be found in the library, funny looks brushed off as he delves into historical tomes specifically. His eyes narrow quickly when he realizes he’s going to need help reading these things. Irritating. Glancing over at the nearest Mirrorbound, he slides his book a little to the side.] Do you have any idea where to start with this?
[As soon as he finds out there are gardens, he abandons the city entirely for the rest of the day. As it turns out, gardens aren’t entirely the right word, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, this is kind of more interesting. There’s a great deal he can learn from this place, especially when it comes to creating public spaces in Aefenglom and regulating a wide variety of growing things, but more than that . . . he just likes it. It’s peaceful. People keep offering him things to eat plucked straight from the soil. Even before he gets his hands on the good mood mushrooms, he’s smiling faintly as he explores the rows and, every once in a while, is given the opportunity to turn a little soil, or pluck a few mushrooms. He’s at remarkable peace in these moments, and it manages to carry him through to evening.]
[By the end of the day, of course, he has to find a place to stay. He’s less prickly about sharing space with others now, but it still doesn’t thrill him, especially not in a strange place. So of course he makes an effort to get to a room first and claim a bed. He’s already made himself at home enough to begin tracing the algae that pulses along the walls with his fingertips, his expression hyperfocused and fascinated, when the door opens, making him blink and turn to stare at the newcomer.]
[Oh. Right. Sharing.] I forgot there would be more people. [He’s still touching the algae . . .]
[This year, Litha is . . .]vi. wildcard
[He would not admit to “less frightening”. Less intimidating, maybe; he might admit that much. The customs of Aefenglom are more familiar, even if he still doesn’t care for the city. And seeing that festivals are much the same the second go round is soothing, in a way. He can see how they might be something for Aefenglom’s permanent citizens to rely on, to measure their years by.]
[So he approaches this year’s Litha with a sense of good humor and an eagerness to get into a little trouble. The return of the hedge maze is exciting, especially since he was so wary of it before. With a touch more confidence and the benefit of speed on his side, he signs up for the maze hunt on the night of the full moons, ears perking slightly at the sight of his assigned partner.] Do you want to chase, or do you want me to?
[But the chase is only interesting for so long. On the next go-round, he allows himself to be ushered into one of the quieter corners of the hedge maze, good humor in the faint curve of his lips as he catches sight of the little cubbyholes that have been constructed, similar to last year, with soft cushion on wicker chairs, benches, and couches, all set up under fairy lights. It’s easier to appreciate now that he feels just a little bit more anchored to this place, easier to smile at whoever he’s been partnered with this time.] Even I have to admit, they put a lot of work into this. They must have committees.
[The shopping district is another favored stop, as the full moon wanes. He can be found wandering the stalls with a lightly spiced drink in hand, perusing the wares with an air of someone who has absolutely no intention of purchasing anything. He’s here for the food and the drink and the atmosphere — and the flower crowns. Just as last year, he can be found sitting on a blanket spread on the ground by a particularly vibrant flower stall, braiding together flower crowns with the intent focus of the slightly intoxicated. Anyone is welcome to join him. Anyone he knows well, or who is even in the wrong place at the wrong time and in the path of his more mischievous instincts, is liable to get a flower crown plopped on their heads out of nowhere. Giorno, for his part, doesn’t take his off until Litha is well and truly over. It’s made of cosmos. There’s probably some kind of symbolism there, but he won’t admit to it.]
[And of course he ends up on the love boat, because it’s hilarious. Boats aren’t romantic. He is going to participate and think the whole time about how unromantic boats are. Unfortunately for whoever his partner is, he seems not to be taking this at all seriously. An example: critical examination of the gauze curtain.]
This is terrible quality.
[Throw him in the river.]
[Feel free to find Giorno elsewhere! As well as anywhere in the Underground and during Litha, he can be found working at the Purramid Cafe most evenings, at Desmodus Mori occasionally, and working with the Council on Parliament planning. If you’d like a specific starter or have questions about anything, please hit me up via PM or atpassiones.]
★ viren
[It’s fine.]
[He’s quiet, body language closed off and expression unreadable behind the sunglasses he wears as protection against the setting sun. On the other hand, he’s made himself decently obtrusive, with as close to the gangplank as he’s standing and the fact that he’s obviously staring.]
. . . Did you get it? [His voice, too, is quiet and polite. Curious more than anything. Because if they didn’t get it, maybe he can let the whole thing go. Maybe.]
Berry picking
Snags that include the number of teenagers she's had to drag, drunk, from within the berry patches.
This seems to be another one, and it's never easy to nearly trip over a familiar figure, crouched low to the ground. She stops with a soft noise, under her breath, and manages to keep from losing any of the berries in her basket - somehow.] Giorno.
[This is said with the most tacit of vague disapproval. Did she even remember he was out here until like 2.5 seconds ago? Unlikely.] Stand up, I think we've... both... been out here too long.
[The way she's slurring her speech is pretty telling, too.]
i
This... however...
Even as an amature actor, he can tell this is a terrible performance. But the script is pretty awful too. Cake...handles? What the hell are those?
He frowns as he considers this question. Oh wait, he knows the answer to this.]
You talkin' 'bout cake pops?
no subject
[Not because Juza is wrong. He does not care if people misunderstand the advertisement. It is a terrible advertisement. No, he's upset because Juza's answer makes so much more sense than the answer that would technically be correct here. If only it were cake pops.]
[He peeks out from under his arm, then lets it fall, looking disheartened. How to redirect this.]
Cake pops? No, I don't think it would help for the cake to pop. If it had a way to hold onto it, to the cake itself . . . that's what I need! That kind of innovation. A way to hold cake without it falling apart or making your hands sticky—
[Wait, no, donuts are sticky. Fuck.]
Making your hands less sticky!
no subject
They ain't the same thing. Cake's cake and a donut's got a totally different consistency.
no subject
[He looks pained.]
There are cake donuts.
[Practically wheezing. He's gonna start selling it in a minute, probably, maybe, he wants to, but Juza's logic is crushing his spirit.]
no subject
[That absolutely doesn't sound right to him, but he does love sugar.]
no subject
[Leaning his head back, he looks up at Maria. His hair is coming undone a bit in the front, and even in the dim light of evening it's clear that he's got a big stupid grin on.]
No-ooo . . . I don't want to.
[A crushing rebuttal. He lolls his head back further.]
You sound ridiculous. [Pot.] You should sit down, you're swaying.
no subject
[Is that how cake donuts are made? Giorno has no idea. It doesn't matter. What matters is, he's got his groove back.]
[Decisively, he throws his handful of cake on the ground.]
No more of this. It's time for us to consider the Venn diagram that is cake and donuts. Spiritually, are they really that different? Is there not some compromise to be made between cake pops, donuts, and just a handful of cake? Not everything can be dessert on a stick. Some desserts can and should be an easy-to-hold ring.
[He doesn't want to talk or think about filled donuts right now. It's just too much.]
no subject
Give him a second to look incredibly disappointed at the cake on the ground before he even thinks about answering.]
They're different things. Jelly filled donuts ain't a ring.
no subject
They are a ring. They're just a filled-in ring.
[Oh no, the despair is creeping back in. Save him from the talking points he's been given.]
no subject
Ain't that a disc?
no subject
[That being said. It would be pretty cheap to just distract Juza from the subject at hand, so in the end it doesn't ma—]
Do you want some cake.
[Cheater.]
no subject
You got extra around?
ii
IV, gardens
The Chimera was almost always attached to her Bonded's side as if by a tether, but Ursula needed a rest sometimes too. And Kaede's curiosity was starting to edge forwards, almost neck and neck with her paranoia with neither giving ground to each other.
A shadow drifted here and there in the tunnels and in the cavern, unchained from the dim crystalline light. The occasional gardener did a double take at it, but the shadow paid them no mind, pooling over a mushroom bed as if peering into it, drifting over an algal pool. The dark mass's reflection had flickering stars within it.
It spotted Giorno reasily enough--it was a bit hard not to, when he was one of the more brightly colored things down here. And it made its way over as the Vampire stooped to investigate something in the soil, hovering near his shoulder. As you do, as an ominous dark cloud.]
What do you have there?
[The shadow-thing asked, her voice echoing slightly.]
no subject
[If she can't rouse him with a command, maybe she can rouse him with a challenge.]
no subject
regardless, it's not enough from viren to answer earnestly. his gray eye gleam. ]
We did!
[ he replies, freely like the words themselves are a breath of fresh air, and he steps off the plank and onto beloved, solid ground. he holds a rusted harpoon in one clawed hand, with what looks like some slime glistening on it. he wings shuffle, then to fold more tightly upon his back. ]
For a beast, it put up a remarkable struggle. The fight was a glorious one - undoubtedly, one for the history books.
i.
instead, he decides to ... join.
suddenly accompanying giorno's sad cake hand display is the sound of a single violin from seemingly nowhere, playing a minor, mourning melody. it's appropriately hammy. ] Well, I'm certain I'm witnessing a tragedy of some kind, but please — continue. [ sell those cake handles girl ]
no subject
[Naturally, there isn't anything in the quote-unquote script he's been given about how to handle people who don't know how to be the audience, but he's ready to abandon the script. His only regret is not being able to make a sad violin noise in response.]
Even the air around me mourns the inconvenience of this cake. Although it's not exactly inspiring. Four out of ten at best. So, what to do without the assistance of a helpful citizen?
[Pondering, he rests one sticky knuckle against his chin as he peers out into the cobbled streets. A cart rumbles by, and he focuses with ridiculous dramatics — widening eyes, a shocked gasp, an accusing point — at the wheels.]
There!
[if these people do not give him a bonus he swears to god]
no subject
[He bites his tongue and holds his breath for a moment. Calm, calm.]
. . . Congratulations. And everyone came back safe, I take it? [Based on the attitude, anyway. It'd be a somber homecoming otherwise.]
There isn't much in the history books about such fights, so I'm sure the addition will be welcome. They're supposed to avoid ships. It's so strange.
no subject
[But it's playful, not indignant. Relaxation makes him smile, which is why he rarely does. With a faint huff, he makes the sign of the horns up at her — rudely, and clumsily — before shoving himself to his feet. True to form, he does stumble.]
You're just worried about me. You can say it.
no subject
At least he's getting to his feet - she doesn't even know what the hand gesture is, aside from something to make her frown even more. Son, water u doing. She catches him by his elbow.]
You should be more worried about yourself. [Neo from the Matrix level deflection right there.] Now shall we?
v
[Akko crinkles her nose because while his decision to comment on the curtain itself doesn't seem that offensive, she does think it's a little rude to criticize it like that.]
It's their first year doing this, cut them some slack!
holy typos batman in that last tag, wow
[ keeping his tone as appropriately somber, ]
Any... [...] injuries, or sacrifices, that came along with our victory, were not in vain.
[ meaning, perhaps someone lost a finger. or a limb. or a life - viren doesn't think he can recall their name from the top of his head. rest in pieces to that person. he draws himself away from the plank, more comfortably distanced from any crewmen that are also in the process of disembarking. the harpoon comes to rest at his side. ]
[ he supposes: he does have some time. he'll attend to this young man. he makes a noise to emulate understanding, ]
How wonderful that that behavior had been an anomaly. [ wonderful thus being that it's more notable in those history books. by which he verbally amends: ] Otherwise, its kind might be hunted more openly. Perhaps we also did it a favor, then, after all.