Trish Una (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
figlia_morbida) wrote2022-08-08 05:05 pm
figlia_morbida) wrote2022-08-08 05:05 pm
Ryslig | IC inbox
Main Username: < Zigazigah >
Public Appearance UN: < Western_Horizon >
Anon: < sharpdistance > , < kidcharlemagne > (not actually anon now because of Hinata)
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It's true though. Doppio still manages to stick out like beacon to her too, although it comes after she catches his familiar scent. There's not too many dead creatures walking around at this time of day, you know?
That being said, his choice of dress is less than subtle, and Trish subtly curls her lips at his pants. Disgusting, sir.
Her expression is back to neutral when she lifts her eyes to look up at Doppio himself, however, and she hums.]
It would have been rude if I hadn't.
[It does help that he asked to meet somewhere so public...almost a guarantee of no harm, and zero chance her father will be anywhere nearby. Still, she's not going to go back on her word even for requests this small, if trust is to be established in any capacity. Even if it's never going to be true trust.
She pretends not to see the bag, too. If only because she can't seem too interested. So she adjusts her hat, shielding her eyes from him briefly, watching him from under the shade of her palm.]
What do you have for me, Doppio?
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... Even though it would have saved him the mild dread that still permeates him, his hand shaking slightly when he reaches into his bag. The small object he pulls out is carefully wrapped in pages from yesterday's newspaper.]
You should be careful with this, okay? [Rather than looking at Trish, his eyes are fixed on the wrapping.] I think you'll understand, but you still shouldn't...
[The elaborate face journey Doppio embarks on, scrunched and hesitant and exasperated and resigned and nervous, not necessarily in that order, can be explained by a train of thought something like the following:
Everything is different now. The dangers they face here are not the same they used to face. This is the picture nobody is supposed to see. It doesn't matter anymore, especially in a world where the Boss intends to allow others to see him, little by little, when he can. Abbacchio must absolutely not see this picture. Abbacchio presumably does not have Moody Blues. This is the picture that must not be seen.
Doppio isn't looking at Trish OR at the wrapped object when he abruptly hands it over to her.
It's all hers now - the framed picture of Donatella Una that he wrapped so carefully, lest anybody see it.]
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Especially since he implies she should understand why it's so fraught, a fact that doubles her intrigue, and she only flinches a little when he very suddenly holds it out to her like it might burn him if he keeps it on his person any longer.
Bemused, she carefully takes it with both hands, pink claws scraping lightly at the newspaper adorning the object.
She's looking at Doppio when she asks:]
Are you sure about this, Doppio?
[Because he seems...awfully tense. Which is a puzzling way to feel about an act of good will on his part.
Even if her own heart flutters when she thinks she spies a familiar face here, there – blond or black or white or green in the corner of her vision. People she promised to never betray, and she firmly believes she isn't, but what she ascribes to her actions and what they would ascribe to them...are ill-matched at the moment.
She rests the wrapped picture on her knees.]
Because if you're not, I won't take it. I'm not here to put you in a bad position.
[She's clearly testing just what this gesture is supposed to mean, because she hasn't made any move to unwrap it. Which is also a courtesy, because she assumes she's not supposed to until he's well out of sight, even if the curiosity gnaws at her gut.]
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Doppio takes a deep breath, which is always telling coming from a creature whose lungs have no real use anymore.]
This is the only thing I can think of to show Bucciarati I'm trying to cooperate with you.
[And it might not even work, is the thing. They might not even grasp the importance of this photograph, the importance of what he's doing, the thought he had to give to this just to arrive at this decision.
(It's absurdly hard, in ways Doppio likely couldn't put into words if he tried; it's the rational awareness this photograph no longer holds the power it once did vs. the deeply ingrained sense that it's too much, that nobody must know.)]
If you have a better idea, I'll take it back, but if you don't then this is all I've got.
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To be honest, you shouldn't worry about Bucciarati yet. He's not going to be swayed easily, and I'm the only real chance you've got when it comes to him.
[They've long established the lack of trust between them, haven't they? Doppio's already tried to hurt her once, if indirectly. She's not exactly angry about it like she was before, however, and it's encouraging that Doppio both suggested this and supported it further by coming out to meet her.
Because Bruno framed it like he only agreed to her clandestine dealings to escape her, but if that were true...he would never have agreed to come here, right? Just like she wouldn't have gone out of her way to show up if she believed he'd be a damnable coward for a second time.
All the more reason to put him to the proof.]
Worry about convincing me first.
[He might object to that, of course, considering all of this is her idea in the first place, but Bruno did give her reason to doubt Doppio. And perhaps more cuttingly, he gave her plenty of reason to doubt herself.
She gestures to the wrapped object in her lap, then, appending her prior statement with:]
So if this doesn't impress me, I'll give it back and pretend this meeting never happened. Does that sound fair?
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He's always been like that, huh? [All about convictions and ideals. It's a real shame he turned to the wrong side.
But never mind that. It's counterproductive to think about that right now, in fact, when he's supposed to be doing the opposite of remembering why traitors have to be punished.
...
He's not surprised that he still has to convince her, too. If anything, the surprising part was how she came to him in the first place, and then insisted on it despite him pointing out the flaws in her thinking. Trish Una is... incredibly smart, isn't she? Like father, like daughter. If she wants to stand on surer footing now that she's had some time to think on it, Doppio can understand that.
Luckily, he thinks his offering is bound to work best on her.]
Yeah. I think that's a good idea.
[If they both realise they never should have come to an agreement, walking away is the best thing to do, isn't it? For her, if not for him. And, for him... what would be the point of killing her, in a world where she won't stay dead?
What would be the point of killing her, when she hasn't done anything?]
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In this way, she's trying to show Doppio that she's acknowledging the nuance involved as she should have from the start. Her plan was messy, but it's still salvageable, right? It has to be.
As for Doppio's observation, Trish raises a brow.]
It would seem so. But I haven't known him long.
[Doppio should know the man decently well if Bruno worked for Passione for years, right? But that's neither here nor there.
Doppio seems amenable to these terms, at any rate, and she feels a little surer of herself as a result. She's not a gangster, but she can do this. She can grab the reins of this situation and steer it herself, if she does this right. It won't be like the first time, when she was nothing and no one and was handed off between strange men without a single way to influence her fate or anyone else's.
Implicitly, Doppio gave her permission to look at his offering here and now, and for several heartbeats she gazes at him with green eyes that are so much like Diavolo's – but her irises are complete, unfractured. And then she's turning her attention to the object in her hands, her pink-lacquered claws slipping through the newspaper with ease, and she traces the periphery of the frame, slicing through the wrapping until she she can peel it back cleanly, and...
And...
She didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't...it can't be. And yet Donatella smiles up at her from the old photo, with a tinge of smugness only the original Miss Una could pull off.
Trish brings a hand to her mouth on reflex, and it's an obvious tell to anyone who knows her. That she's hiding some plain, unabashed emotion.]
...Where did you get this?
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Wait, that can't be right. He must be getting something confused. He can't have joined that long ago if-- No, wait, but if Doppio was already--
You know what? Never mind all that. Now's not the time to think about it. He's almost definitely getting Bucciarati confused with some other guy who joined as a kid after Doppio was already consigliere, but this isn't supposed to be about him, anyway. It's about Trish.
In a way. You know. In the sense that he's about to give her a picture of her mother, and this truce necessarily revolves around her as one of the bargaining chips. It's about Trish in that sense.
Doppio waits. He has seen the Boss's eyes by now - he has been allowed to see them, is working on allowing himself to see them - and he's not sure if that plays a role in his inability to hold eye contact with Trish for very long. They're very similar, which doesn't help. They're not that similar, which doesn't help.
Then again, maybe he'd rather focus on her eyes and/or how hard they are to look at than imagine what is about to happen precisely as she unwraps the picture and sees...
Yeah.
Yeah, of course she'd ask that first.]
... Mana. She gave it to me last Christmas, but I don't know why.
[It makes less sense the more he thinks about it. He asks her for a way to contact the Boss and nothing, and yet she's able to get such a crucial item without him even asking for it?]
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But Trish wants this to work so badly that she may have taken something less damning for Doppio than this. Although it's not so damning when they're no longer in Italy and he and Diavolo are long dead, right? But it is something he knew had meaning to her, which means he must have thought about it a little. She'll cling to that, and to this photo, keep it pressed close and clandestine until someday, she has something to show for all of this.
Though, she is as puzzled as he is, and there's a few things she could ask. The last time they spoke, she wondered if they had some blood relation, but if they had...Doppio wouldn't find it strange, would he? As tenuous as his connection to her mother would be if he were Diavolo's brother or cousin, it simply wouldn't make sense for him be confused. Even less sense for him to play dumb, too.
Unless Diavolo withheld things, which is far too possible. Maybe Mana thought it would be funny to show him something as simultaneously meaningless as it would have been possibly meaningful, once upon a time. It is funny to think about Doppio himself, and how he almost fits the image her mother painted of Diavolo, who is neither meek or awkward or kind. But Trish doesn't want to spare that man another thought.
So, she settles on:]
Mana likes to play games. I wouldn't try to make sense of her actions, especially a year on.
[And then Trish looks away from Doppio, gaze trained back down on Donatella's smiling face, and her expression is kept passive but somehow terribly brittle. Like making any expression one way or another may threaten to break her entirely.]
...But I am convinced that your actions aren't based on petty jokes. That being said, the only reason I'm going to honor your request is simply because it will invite questions that are harmful to what I want us to accomplish. Otherwise, I'll do whatever the hell I want with this picture. It was never his to have.
[She doesn't say it with any amount of venom, surprisingly. It's almost matter-of-fact in how cold her tone is.]
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... Or maybe it's just very stupid.
In any case, it's a little easier to look at Trish when her attention is on the picture, although Doppio isn't sure how it's making him feel or why. Trish... loved her mother. She said as much herself. Even if the idea of this picture being anywhere near Abbacchio and the others makes Doppio want to jump out of his skin in some uncomfortably visceral way...
Maybe it is better if she has it, he finds himself thinking. It's not ideal, sure - ideally, the picture wouldn't be here at all - but she has a point, doesn't she? It originally belonged to--
Well, actually -]
But the Boss took it, right? Obviously it's not supposed to exist or anything, but... he was the one who took it, wasn't he? I know it's weird to think about, since he's not really the kind of guy to have regrets--
[He catches himself, though almost definitely not in a timely manner.]
Ah, sorry! I know you don't really want to talk about him.
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But the boy Donatella knew and the man Trish met were utterly different. As if Solido Naso had been another person entirely. As if Diavolo had excised what little good there was to find in him with nigh surgical precision. Sure, people change, but this is too hard to reconcile.
So Doppio's comment doesn't bother her. After all, he was of one mind in sharing details about the boss, in that he didn't want to tell and she didn't want to listen. But now he's talking; and now, she's thinking. She conjures in her mind the moment this picture was taken, with her mother draping her arms on the stone fixture, and Diavolo behind the camera, taking it because...
Because...
Trish doesn't chide Doppio. Her thumb traces the frame of the photo.]
He took it for her because she asked.
[Abruptly, Trish's voice takes on the echo of a cheery lilt as she continues:]
"I handed him my camera, practically begging him to take one picture. Just one! I wanted to remember Sardinia forever." That's what she said every time she talked about this photo.
[Trish looks in Doppio's direction then, but her gaze is somewhere past him, hazy.]
I've often wondered why he agreed. Maybe he didn't think she would remember him. Unfortunately for him, I was there to remind her every day, wasn't I?
[So, she disagrees. Diavolo is perfectly capable of mistakes and regrets, just like any other person alive, despite how highly Doppio thinks of him.]
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Trish's mother asked. Somehow, that doesn't surprise him. It surprises him more to hear that Donatella Una talked about this enough for Trish to recite her words. For fifteen years - it must have been fifteen; Trish is living proof of it - that woman longed for the man behind the camera, and spoke of him, and Trish-- did Trish ask? Was she ever curious? When they talked about the Boss - the Boss before he was the Boss - was Donatella fueled by Trish's need to know more?
For fifteen years, this... happened, in some shape or form, and for fifteen years... The Boss did nothing about it.
Did he take the picture just to appease Trish's mother, or did he want her to have a memento? Doppio gets the impression that the answer to that question dictates why the Boss did nothing about it for so long.
He also gets the impression that he should not be talking about this. He shouldn't even be thinking about it.
Doppio feels...
The strangest urge to apologise.]
Um...
[It's disorienting enough that he needs a moment to find his train of thought again.]
Does... Does it bug you that he took the picture? I mean, is it... awkward now?
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Because it's really no surprise that Sardinia and her father were a common topic. Was Trish curious? Not at first. Not until she realized lots of kids happened to have fathers and mysteriously, hers was absent! It didn't bother her, since she couldn't miss what she never had, but it was a curious thing.
Are dads important? Do I even have one? Where did he go? What did he look like? Was he pretty or ugly?
All very pertinent questions. And Trish remembers these questions, if only because Donatella laughed so very much over her daughter's blunt attitude and was happy to poke fun at her when she was old enough to be embarrassed about it.
But that's about as far as Trish's concern went. However, she knew how wistful her mother was over the man who vanished – leaving nothing behind except his name and a daughter who looked so much like him. How could she ever forget?
Sardinia was a fond story because there were no regrets, ultimately. Even if her mother's fate was unkind, it wasn't nearly as cruel as it could have been if she had been inclined to pursue the name of Solido Naso sooner.
So Doppio's question has an easy answer, and Trish's eyes regain their focus, glinting green.]
No.
[Curt, but not unkind.]
I'll admit the context behind it is very different now, but I will always associate it with her and not him. He can't erase that.
[It's simple, you know? The two months of hell she endured feel small compared to the fifteen years she was happy at home, with a mother who not once ever made her feel unwanted.]
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The thought hits Doppio and the reasoning only follows moments later. He's relieved because that means the picture will serve its purpose. If it were only a reminder of the Boss's deeds, then... it'd be counterproductive, wouldn't it? Instead of showing that he's willing to make allowances, he'd only be... making her feel more resentful, or something like that. And if Trish's resentment outgrows her desire to be left alone, then he and the Boss are in trouble.
Yeah. That's why he's relieved.]
I-I should get going, then.
[Likewise, there's nothing strange about his suddenly impending departure. They're done here, so he has no reason to stick around.
Or to keep thinking about this.]
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The only thing she recognizes for certain is that the knowledge that this picture contains...probably only really means something to her, anymore. The power it had over Diavolo has been reduced to ash. It means nothing to Doppio.
So giving it to her is more symbolic, than anything. It offers her no real advantages, and if anything, could be intended to make her more pliable to any requests on their end going forward.
But Donatella's easy smile opposes her own frown, and she remembers being kind and willing to bend is not weakness. Being kind and flexible is what allowed her mother to live no regrets. Being kind is the only recourse for a place like this, where revenge can mean total destruction in a way death itself no longer can.
Trish is only dimly aware of Doppio leaving, and she doesn't look away from the photo as she murmurs:]
Thank you.
[It's impossible for him not to hear her, not when they're both monsters with senses as strong as theirs.
But she won't force him to engage with it. Her words will hang where she leaves them.]