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001 ♡ video (CALL)

[Frankly, Dio's not in the mood. Not that he's exactly a paragon of patience most days, but right here and now he doesn't have much patience to offer anyone or anything. Someone else might try to look at this on the bright side, of course. He's clearly not dead here, and there's nothing that absolutely rules out the possibility of him returning to right where he left off. Maybe some other time, when he's had time to put a little more distance between himself and where he left off, he'll think of that. But for right now? Right now, the bitter taste of defeat still lingers on the back of his tongue. Compounding his sour mood even further on that little fact is that he can't do anything about it right now.]

[But Dio is a skilled liar, if nothing else, and he does still possess a modicum of control over his temper that he doesn't throw a tantrum. To do so now would be far, far too costly now that he's found himself thrust into an unfamiliar situation. And he refuses to be caught off-guard right here and now, which means figuring out this...device. There really isn't anything exactly comparable in his world, but Dio's not an idiot. He can figure it out with little trial and error.]

Interesting. [He looks and sounds more pleased than he actually feels when the video feed begins, but it's unlikely anyone would be able to really question how genuine it is.] The technology here is impressive. In my day, there weren't many who would believe something like this is possible. I can only guess as to how clever the minds who dreamed this device in reality truly were and I'm sure this will prove useful moving forward.

[His smile increases only by a fraction, but it carries with it an enormous amount of warmth. Dio is here to play nice.]

For all of us.

[For now.]

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[Now this is a little contradictory. He's made his appearance so that he is noted and easily forgotten, but words like that stand as a stark contrast because they are seeking Dio's opinion. People who don't wish to be noticed, who want nothing more than to be overlooked seek to give bland, boring responses in conversation. They contribute little thought and even less discussion. Probing for Dio's opinion is not a means of making himself easily forgotten, but rather produces the exact opposite result.]

[Interesting.]

It's where it ends, not where it begins.

That's assuming reality is a straight line. Or that lies are.

[He wrinkles his nose, a little put out.]

That's a gross oversimplification.

Is it? [he drawls, like he doesn't know what he's said is an oversimplification of deception, and that it would never occur to him that isn't somehow the absolute truth because he, Dio, must know better. The kid has the beginnings of an expression and a burgeoning opinion underneath his restraint. But how long can he resist and hold whatever it is he doesn't want Dio to notice away from him?] Then go on, boy. Enlighten me to my oversight.

[Dio sounds bored. He looks bored to the untrained eye. But in truth, he's beginning to scrutinize every movement, every word.]

I'm not your boy.

[Kneejerk. And he shouldn't have. It's telling, too much so, and too easy. Too quick. His scowl deepens, and then he sits up and straightens his shoulders and smooths out his expression again. He won't let simple disdain provoke him into showing his hand. He's better than that.]

Everything about the world around us, including but in no way limited to fiction, teaches us what sort of lies to believe and which not to. Which are acceptable, permitted, and which aren't. What kind of lies are so taboo that no one would ever expect them. And that perception thus informs the world around us, including the world of fiction.

It's a circle.

[I'm not your boy.]

[There's one of two ways that Dio could interpret that. The first is that he's beginning to feel condescended to and has taken offense. It's not particularly uncommon in young men his age when they are so eager and desperate to prove themselves as intellectual equals to any other man who happens to be older. The other... The other seems impossible. It should be impossible given how so very few walked away from Dio with their lives. But there's something sharp and distinct about the defensiveness being launched at him in four simple words that it speaks of an old wound reopened. And it would make sense, wouldn't it? The way he's struggling so with concealing himself, to seem smaller and less important, but wanting to be notably clever and thoughtful. And there's also the matter of the nagging sense of familiarity.]

[As he's talking, Dio leans a little closer. His scrutiny of Giorno's features is far more open now than it was the first time as his attention wanes from the words Giorno is using to speak. He could care less about the topic at hand now that he's trying to ascertain the truth. But he hums in light agreement anyway.]

You must be quite adept at lying then to have thought of all that. [One corner of his mouth raises itself into a smile.] You're the sort of person who doesn't just turn falsehood into lies, you can turn the truth into a lie just as easily. And people believe whatever you want them to, don't they? I bet sometimes they believe it simply because it came out of your mouth. Seems odd to me then that you're trying to appear so mild now in front of me while presenting these lofty ideas of deception.

[He pauses, tipping his head a little to one side. He hasn't placed any particular emphasis in his tone in the words in front of me, but their sheer existence in the sentence likely communicates just fine that Dio's aware this is somewhat a unique reaction.]

Unless there's something you're afraid of...

[Ah. Well, that's that, then. Round one. And yet he's not awfully upset about it. Not thrilled, either, but as far as losses go it's an acceptable one, given that his main goal was just ascertaining how long it would take.]

[The implication's funny, too, and likely not for the reason Dio thinks. The improbability of it shocks Giorno into a real laugh, soft and mellow.]

What do you think I'm going to say, "No"? Of course I'm afraid of something. Everyone is. I'm afraid of a hundred things easily.

Not you, though.

Oh? And why might that be?

[Because it is a curious thing that he's not afraid. So many are without knowing the whole of Dio's history just by his sheer presence. Even something as simple as a smile can get them down on both knees, ready to swear loyalty to Dio for the chance to reap the rewards of backing his awesome power.]

[. . . How bluntly does he want to put this, exactly?]

[Well. He wants to say: which one of us is dead? But he doesn't. That would be unwise, and it would also be reckless, and he is both wise and cautious. So. Something else. He hums quietly under his breath for a moment, eyes downcast, then glances back up at Dio again.]

Because I know the kind of man you are, and I don't find you to be particularly hard to read, I suppose.

That seems unlikely.

[Which part is Dio referring to? He doesn't bother with clarifying. Partly because he wants to see which it is that he'll take more issue with: his likely large deficits in his knowledge of who his father is or a slight against his ability to read people accurately. Partly because Dio's fairly confident it could apply to either anyway, so what's the point in clarifying? Regardless of whatever ideas his mother put in his head or what he conjured up for himself as a small child, he can't imagine it's enough to fully inform him to make a completely accurate assessment in any given moment.]

[Giorno just smiles. As digs go, it's a pathetic one. He's confident both in his judgment of Dio's character and in his ability to read his father, at least up to a point.]

Does it?

[And there it is.]

[The exact movement of the boy's lips curving into a smile and the shape of it once it has settled. The air that changes around him of an unwavering serenity. The cool look in his eyes offering gentle assurances of his confidence within himself, his knowledge, and his abilities.]

[That's the smile of a prince.]

[Whatever lingering doubts were in Dio's mind are cast aside in the wake of the boy's smile. His boy's smile. The boy's blood may be a mixture of someone else, Dio, and Joestar, but this is his son. He has features belonging to his mother that don't particularly stand out to Dio and he has the color of Jonathan's eyes, but in the things that matter the most — his smile, his presence, his cunning — those are all pieces of Dio, giving him the greater claim. Dio chuckles, low and deeply satisfied. It's not enough to soothe away all his underlying tension related to the moments just before he found himself in this city far removed from time and his world — nothing really could — but he can set that rage aside to contemplate this instead. This is still a battle he's won.]

What's your name?

[Dio is laughing at him.]

[No.]

[Dio is laughing because of him.]

[No.]

[His father . . . is laughing, because he's pleased. He's pleased. Giorno did something, and it's pleased him.]

[It hits him in the gut, a wave of warmth, a feeling of unbreakable rightness. It doesn't change what Dio did, was, stands for, and it doesn't change Giorno. It doesn't change either of them.]

[What it is . . . is the plucking of the common thread between them, the vibrations of their connection in the universe making themselves known to both of them. Not we are one and the same, but that is where I came from; that is what I made.]

[He ought to feel more regret than he does. There is some, to be sure, but for the most part, what he feels is the sensation of being fed after a lifetime of starvation. Some part of him hurts with the richness of what's been offered.]

[What's your name?]

Giovanna. Giorno Giovanna.

[Giovanna...]

[That name doesn't ring any bells to Dio. Not that he was particularly attentive to the names of the women he slept with. There wouldn't have been a reason to regardless of whether he let them go or drained them utterly. But there's nothing about it that resonates even vaguely familiar.]

[Then again, what difference does it make who Giorno's mother is? Or perhaps was. There's no telling what's happened over the span of years from her chance encounter with Dio to Giorno's present. Regardless, her significance begins and ends with carrying and birthing Giorno as far as Dio is concerned for now. There will be time for anything else later. What matters more right now...]

[He holds up a hand into view, allowing purple, thorny, and semi-transparent vines to manifest. They wrap themselves down along his wrist, through the palm of his hand, and between a few of his fingers. Of the Stands at his disposal, this one is the obvious choice. He's been honest about his name and his lineage even if the latter was unintentional. But a name is one thing. Stands are something far more personal and vulnerable, and Dio doesn't anticipate simply because Giorno's acquiesced a few truths that he will suddenly surrender all, especially not his Stand. If he has one. So with that room for a lie, Dio won't allow for The World to be the test. Not here and now.]

Tell me what you see, Giorno.

[He barely glances at the Stand. He's looking, certainly, closely enough even if it's just for a moment that it's clear he's not only looked but seen, that he's registered the Stand's presence and summarily dismissed it.]

[His expression is vaguely displeased, nothing stronger than that. Maybe a little disappointed.]

A man who's trying to test me.

[Dio couldn't care less about the displeasure or disappointment Giorno's experiencing. He can see it. That's all Dio needs to know. For now. His son is clever and commanding, but he's also powerful. Dio lowers his hand, dismissing the Stand.]

Trying to test you? [He shakes his head with a smile.] You're not looking at the whole picture if that's all you see. Or perhaps what you claim to know of me is to blame.

Either way, whether you choose to see it or not, I asked you what I just did in a specific manner for a reason.

I'm sure I don't know everything there is to know about you. No one knows everything about anyone else. Anyway, you never said tell me everything you see.

[He sighs, shifting restlessly in his seat.]

I know you've only shown me less than half the picture. And that you're probably trying to prove some kind of point. I don't know if you'll tell me the rest, though.

You don't have any reason to tell me everything either, Giorno. [Less reason, in fact. Not that Dio will verbalize that here and now when it could perhaps reinforce the idea that he should withhold from Dio any further than what he's already said.] You're clever enough to know what I was doing and you could have lied to me just now if you wanted with very little I could do to prove otherwise.

I accepted that as a potential outcome, so it wasn't about affording you that chance. But I wasn't indirect for the sake of being coy or toying with you, and it wasn't purely for my sake either.

[Normally, Dio wouldn't bother to explain even this much. He'd leave it alone, leave it as a question in the other's head as to why Dio does the things that he does because it gets them to entertain a number of possibilities and either are wracked with indecision or gravitate towards what's most desirable. But that's not to his advantage right now. It's obvious even from the length of this conversation that the ideas Giorno now holds about his father are largely cast in the light of a villain, perhaps even something edging close if not completely within that of a monster. Furthermore, just as Giorno doesn't have a reason to tell Dio everything because it's likely he's still trying to determine how much he can trust his father. Questioning Dio's motives may sometimes grace the side of something a little more positive, but it's not likely where Giorno would invest as the most likely explanation and he'd see an extreme lack of any candor whatsoever as a reason to treat Dio with suspicion.]

[No, at this point, with Giorno knowing so little for himself beyond his mother's words and the images he created for himself, it's better to be at least vaguely transparent. Whether Giorno accepts it at all is entirely up to him, but Dio has laid it out for him all the same.]

You do realize that's not actually telling me anything, don't you?

[No part of this is not hypothetical.]

All you're saying is "I've been very honest, and I've done you a favor, too." Don't pat me on the head and give me a cookie. Don't ask me to jump through hoops for you. You've taken the time to learn my name, which means you have some manner of investment in me, one way or another. I can't imagine you'd invest your time in someone stupid enough to fall for flattery.

I'm well aware of what I'm saying, but it would seem you are not.

[It's the first, unpleasant flare of a temper.]

[Not enough to like burn because Dio has the wherewithal to restrain most of it, but perhaps enough to sting and scald. And... And Dio feels an iota of regret for that. His temper is not going to help him, particularly if he loses control of it as he so often does. Dio's jaw is momentarily tense and then everything smooths over once again like nothing even happened. Except that Dio does offer a further explanation. He doesn't particularly want to. He'd much rather Giorno simply understand without such an explanation, but there appears to be no such luck involved in any of this, and he needs something to soothe and repair any damage caused by that small bout of irritation. Not that it comes easily or necessarily gently.]

I didn't make demands for anything and I spoke in a way that likely only you would understand. You could say I was doing as a father should for his son, or I suppose you could call it a "favor" if there's something you'd like to accuse me of in my investment in you.

[It would be a mistake to think of Dio as anything but a danger. No matter what his interest, it's nothing good. No matter whether he perceives it as positive or negative, well-meant or not, it'll serve to damage in the end. Maybe he's not intending harm, maybe he is, but does it matter? Even here he intends no harm, and his tongue lashes with impatience.]

[It's disappointing. It hedges up against frightening, especially because he knows what the World does, but it doesn't quite make him flinch. Just go a little dull around the eyes for a fraction of a second.]

[Then he shrugs one shoulder.]

The idea that a father "should" do anything for his child is a very nice lie, but it's still a lie.

Edited 2016-06-09 06:10 (UTC)

[There's no amount of willpower Dio could exert that could possibly stop the bitter and acidic noise that escapes Dio at that. It's not directed at Giorno, however, nor is it a direct refutation. Well over 100 years after the bastard died and Dio still can't contain his hatred of his own father. But Giorno and Dio do somewhat differ. Giorno may consider it a lie that a father should do anything, but that's nearly the exact opposite of how Dio feels on the matter. That doesn't mean that every father follows suit, but...]

[Well.]

[Dario Brando served more as template of what not to be, even to someone like Dio who never had any intention of siring any children. It may have been one thing if Dario was merely selfish, but he took it to an extreme. He always took everything to an extreme from his drinking to his temper, and he took everything out on his son. Were it not for that, Dio doesn't think Dario would have had any use for Dio after his mother's death, and he'd have just as soon sold him in some form or fashion as a means to another bottle.]

[Which is why even though it lasts only for a fraction of a second, Dio notices the way something in Giorno seems to recede. No, not something. It's almost the very whole of him, making himself temporarily small and absent to be more accepting of whatever is to transpire in the moment. Dio bore no such look for very long. He'd been small and prone to crying, but that never did any good. So, he had to learn other ways to tolerate it. To let it pass over him and until the gentle hand of his mother was there to replace his father's, but it wasn't long until the only way Dio could possibly comfort himself was with dreams of wrenching the power from his father's shaking, ultimately feeble hands and one day bringing it to fruition. That's why Dio didn't look like that, the way Giorno did just now in that fraction of a second, for very long.]

[But he recognizes it. He recognizes it and he doesn't know how to be gentle the way his mother had been. He knows only his anger and his hatred, things he doesn't think Giorno allows to manifest very far if that response is any indication. For that brief fraction of a second, Giorno was little more than a wounded child that scar tissue quickly masked and that is either all he can do or all he will allow. But Dio is something a little less forgiving, something darker just beneath his calm albeit tense veneer.]

Simply because someone fails to live up to your expectations is not reason enough to stop holding that individual accountable. That just gets you into the habit of compromising your standards and leaves you vulnerable when you opt to settle or simply give up on what's within your rights. But assuming it is somehow a lie that a father should act for his son, tell me who in your world taught you to stop believing in it.

[He leans forward a little.]

Me? Or the man your mother allowed to raise you?

[The man she allowed to lay hands on you.]

[That's different. He recognizes it, that shift. This whole conversation has been shifts: from disinterested to curious, from curious to personally invested, from invested to . . . well, it's hard to know how angry Dio is, but he's certainly starting to boil. Not expected in any way, but interesting to make a note of.]

[Giorno doesn't react. There's an expectation here, a belief not just of paternity but kinship, and he isn't sure how he feels about it. Nothing has been earned here, and he's predisposed not to trust those who present themselves as authority figures to him. It would be exceptionally foolish to put himself in Dio's power.]

[He can't rise to this.]

I've never known a man who did right by his son. I've known plenty who didn't. I don't believe there's any point to living with false hope of protection from someone with power just because one happens to share genetic material.

[Giorno's reaction isn't unexpected. Circumstances and what Dio assumed was his mother's decision to put as much physical distance between herself and Dio while she was pregnant never afforded Dio the opportunity to prove much of anything to Giorno as far as his competency as a father. And now here he, Dio, is, trying to not only fill the void, but also smooth over the cracks left behind by other men. It's somewhat of an impossible task, if one were to define it. Giorno is anticipating Dio to fail, to walk in the same steps as the other man, as the human refuse that begat Dio.]

[In some ways, that pricks at Dio's irritation even more. He's never been one to tolerate doubt well, but he's always had a method to removing all doubt in another. That's not the case with Giorno. The boy is too clever and too much like his father to be easily won over by charm alone. It seems to leave Dio only with the other extreme and to put it simply: Dio does not ask. Does not and will not because there would be little point in it. And yet... Although it is something Giorno may give, that is all it is; this is not something he can simply take either.]

No, I would anticipate that you gave up on that fantasy years ago, [he replies, with a small degree of tension resulting from the impossibilities of Giorno giving, or Dio asking or even taking. He may not find it within himself to ask and he cannot take, but he will lay out his argument. There is no impediment to that.] But that's all you've known of me, isn't it? Your fantasies, and whatever your mother claimed to know and bothered to tell you, and maybe whatever little has survived since my birth.

[Birth. Not death. Giorno isn't ignorant to the fact that Dio is dead, of course, but that doesn't mean that Dio is willing to acknowledge it even as a sound argument.]

You can make your arguments about never knowing the whole of any other person all you like, but that doesn't change the fact what you have is scraps at best and outright misinformation at worst. So what is it that you're really using to reach your conclusions in your judgments about me? Hm?

What other men have done to you and to other sons? The opinions of others? The ways in which I failed to live up to your once naive expectations that perhaps I had found a way to defy the odds one last time to save my son?

It's not that I'm unsympathetic to your apprehension or your mistrust. As much time as you may have spent wondering and hoping what it would have been like had I ever come for you or stopped you mother from hiding your existence from me, you can't ever know for certain how well that matches to reality, can you? There's no guarantees that I would have treated you any better than they did.

But I would like to think you're more reasonable than that, Giorno, and whatever judgments you pass over me are grounded in what you know of me for yourself directly. Not what you've dreamed of in the past or had to rely on others to discover, and certainly not on the sins of others.

But if you wish to squander this opportunity to know anything for certain then there's little I can do to stop you, isn't there?

[Unlike most people, when Dio says there's little he can do, that isn't a euphemism for there being nothing he can do. That much is likely clear in his tone and demeanor as nothing shifts to soften him or make him seem helpless in the wake of whatever Giorno may decide. What is additionally and most importantly clear is that it would not be Dio's preference to force it. Whether it is his insatiable ego that wants nothing more than to be desired by someone, or a genuine desire for a fresh start is likely anyone's guess. But it would still be within his preference that Giorno not submit, nor do so much as meet Dio halfway.]

[Instead, Dio would prefer it Giorno right the wrong of his mother and other circumstances, and to provide him with a chance. However small it may be. Because Giorno stands to gain from this just as much as Dio does, or so Dio is willing to convince Giorno to believe by appealing to the part of him that has and likely always will wonder about his true father.]

Edited 2016-06-10 08:47 (UTC)

[The logic of this argument is troubling, but not surprising. He knows he takes after his father. Polnareff has told him as much more than once. He, too, has the ability to charm those he wants something from.]

[What's actually startling is that it appears Dio does want something from him after all. That doesn't make sense to him. Someone in Dio's position, with Dio's ambition, taking time out of his life to persuade his previously-unknown offspring not to judge him too quickly or too harshly. That's a moot point, of course. Giorno has already long judged him. But that judgment doesn't negate the wanting he's felt all his life, the need to connect with the family of his blood, just in case, just on the off chance that that would change anything.]

[It won't. He knows it won't. But Dio seems to think that it might. Whether that impression is genuine or not, it's hard to say. He wishes they were in the same space, in a way, so he could get a better idea of his father's tells, test him more subtly. This device is in some ways more of a handicap than anything.]

[He looks at Dio levelly for a moment, his gaze even, a little troubled. Then, after that pause, he tugs his braid over his shoulder and fiddles with the end of it, glancing off to the side.]

We don't squander opportunities that present themselves, do we.

[Not the two of them. Not people like them. They are both monsters in their own ways, he knows. If only for that reason, he should make use of this opportunity, to learn more about his own worst-case scenario.]

[A slender golden hand slips over Giorno's shoulder and gently pulls his braid back into place. There's a quick glance from unblinking eyes, and Gold Experience is gone. But he was there.]

I think continuing this conversation in public is unwise. Where are you?

[Dio interprets that as a victory. Perhaps he shouldn't. Perhaps he should be more conservative in his perceptions and see it as one step on that road toward victory. But when someone like Giorno, someone who could very easily defy and oppose him concedes to the degree to which he has—and it is a form of concession allowing his Stand to be seen even momentarily—it's nigh impossible for Dio to see it any other way. Dio manages, at least, to keep his delight somewhat contained and regulated insomuch that he does not appear to gloat, but there is no mistaking that he is pleased.]

I'm not far from the McAran Tower, but I won't be here for long given my particular..."allergy." I'm better suited for other places within this city.

[And neither his weakness to sunlight nor where he intends to sleep for the day is something he intends to share explicitly and publicly. What he withholds more specifically from Giorno is that he would also not particularly mind having a chance to feed before he sleeps. It became immediately apparent to him that either the effect of Joseph's blood wore off after death or it had been somehow removed from his body before it was destroyed, but whichever the case may be, he hasn't fed all night with the exception of a saleswoman. That's enough perhaps to tide him over, but he spent more than enough of his fair share of time not eating to his fill throughout his lifetime.]

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001 ♡ video (CALL)

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cw: child abuse/neglect

continuing cw for same

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