[Giorno is silent for such a stretch that Trish finally looks his way again, even if it's so much easier not to look at the slumped, sad form of Giorno Giovanna, green from head to toe, with eyes to match.
Eyes that are luminous with pain, and she meets them with her own green eyes, whose pupils and irises remain intact, as if to reflect what Giorno's used to be, though his were...no, his old eyes were green too.
Then...
Maybe he's right.
Maybe they really aren't that different.
But their similarities only punctuate the deep divides of the few differences they do have.
Trish doesn't know what Giorno has done in the face of death, not really. Bucciarati merely kept his body running on pure resolve alone. Her father eventually faded from her senses, so she assumed he had drowned in the canal he'd fallen into, after Giorno bested him with Gold Experience Requiem.
In her eyes, then, what had happened was as neat and tidy as it could be, even with the bodies they left every step of the way.
Giorno was someone she could admire, in that sense. Just as she had admired Bucciarati.
But here, she listens to Giorno essentially say that yes, he's listening. Yes, he understands.
And yet...he cannot oblige her. He won't.
And for that, she realizes they really are at an impasse, because she simply can't support it. So she rests her chin on her knees, still curled in on herself, eyes half-lidded as she studies Giorno.
Giorno, warped by this place, but Giorno all the same.]
No, I suppose we're more similar than either of us thought.
[Perhaps painfully so.]
What I would like for you and what you want for yourself, however, are two very different things. You're predicating your state of mind on a possibility I hear is very likely...
[Steve could pop up and simply put an end to all this, but...]
But until that happens, I will not accept your answer and reserve my right to be frustrated with you. And you'll simply have to accept that.
[As long as they understand each other, then maybe...he'll be satisfied. Maybe.
If there is anything to take from this, at least, it's something Giorno can take with him as just another thing he had the opportunity to experience with Trish Una. A weighty disagreement, the two of them peering over their respective walls, baring their weaknesses and seeing the other person's in turn.]
gets punched in the face repeatedly by Anne
Eyes that are luminous with pain, and she meets them with her own green eyes, whose pupils and irises remain intact, as if to reflect what Giorno's used to be, though his were...no, his old eyes were green too.
Then...
Maybe he's right.
Maybe they really aren't that different.
But their similarities only punctuate the deep divides of the few differences they do have.
Trish doesn't know what Giorno has done in the face of death, not really. Bucciarati merely kept his body running on pure resolve alone. Her father eventually faded from her senses, so she assumed he had drowned in the canal he'd fallen into, after Giorno bested him with Gold Experience Requiem.
In her eyes, then, what had happened was as neat and tidy as it could be, even with the bodies they left every step of the way.
Giorno was someone she could admire, in that sense. Just as she had admired Bucciarati.
But here, she listens to Giorno essentially say that yes, he's listening. Yes, he understands.
And yet...he cannot oblige her. He won't.
And for that, she realizes they really are at an impasse, because she simply can't support it. So she rests her chin on her knees, still curled in on herself, eyes half-lidded as she studies Giorno.
Giorno, warped by this place, but Giorno all the same.]
No, I suppose we're more similar than either of us thought.
[Perhaps painfully so.]
What I would like for you and what you want for yourself, however, are two very different things. You're predicating your state of mind on a possibility I hear is very likely...
[Steve could pop up and simply put an end to all this, but...]
But until that happens, I will not accept your answer and reserve my right to be frustrated with you. And you'll simply have to accept that.
[As long as they understand each other, then maybe...he'll be satisfied. Maybe.
If there is anything to take from this, at least, it's something Giorno can take with him as just another thing he had the opportunity to experience with Trish Una. A weighty disagreement, the two of them peering over their respective walls, baring their weaknesses and seeing the other person's in turn.]