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)
10/15; private | <harmonia>
i left something in your room next time you're in. don't let anyone see it but the other two, please.
[Fugo and Bruno, obviously.]
[What she'll find is a handwritten transcript of his conversation with Elias, including a description of how the key was presented and annotated with his thoughts. Underneath it, a several-times-underlined statement.]
The park takes away monster powers & would kill me.
[Somewhat below that:]
Wanted to keep you up to date. In all likelihood he can read all network threads. Don't talk to Reira about this at all. I will not be going to the park. I will monitor the Cube. Available & at home should you need me.
<Zigazigah> --> action
The last thing she wants is weird people inboxing her!!! She does wait to respond before she sees his note, just so she knows what's going on.]
Don't be surprised when I come straight to you afterwards, then.
[And she does, because that note is insanely worrying in several different ways, and her semi-retractable claws flex unconsciously, pricking holes in the paper.
First off, the network is not safe.
Second...this god basically all but threatened Giorno. What a bastard move for someone who pleaded for help.
Wherever Giorno happens to be, Trish will walk in pensively, having followed the aroma of his flowers instead of inquiring after his location. She also looks distantly pissed off at everything, until her eyes settle on him.
Her expression doesn't soften exactly, so much as it hardens in a thoughtful way. She was almost intent on avoiding the god nonsense, but knowing it's so intertwined with even a creature comfort is both harrowing and annoying.]
...I read your note.
[She swallows, remembering how cheerfully Elias spoke and how easily he manipulated Giorno's laptop.]
Giorno, how do we know we're not being watched all the time? Between the laptops and the fog, I'm starting to realize I've been entirely careless.
[Giorno wasn't a common feature on the network...but if Elias is listening through the laptops, then the fog god is listening in the mist hanging around them, right?
Her tail flicks back and forth, a worried, curled metronome.]
Do we even have alternatives for long distance communication?
no subject
[He’s paranoid right now. Sue him.]
[Seated cross-legged on the bed, he puts down the pad of paper he’d been using to scribble notes on, giving her his full attention as she airs her concerns. Everything she says is more or less what he was thinking. If he ever felt like underestimating her again, she’d just find a way to prove to him that it’s a damn stupid idea.]
It’s cultural carelessness. I’ve been guilty of it as well. Sometimes more than others, but it’s easy to forget, since so many people seem not to think about it. They just say whatever they like, whenever they like, no matter who might see or overhear.
[That’s not his style. He’s been paranoid more or less from birth, and organized crime has only made him more so — but not even being communicate securely is a serious concern.]
. . . We don’t have an alternative right now, no. I have some ideas, though. I don’t believe Mana has allegiance to anyone at all but herself, so it’s entirely possible that she could provide some kind of secure communication device given enough compensation. It’s at least worth looking into. I refuse to accept the possibility that we can’t speak securely no matter what we do.
[He fiddles with his pen for a moment, staring down at it intently before looking back up at her.]
Both gods have weaknesses that can be exploited, both physical and egotistical. I’ve been negligent in investigating Elias because I consider the Fog to be the source of our primary problems: being here, being transformed, our forcible diet change, and so on. So I wanted to see what Elias would do, how he would behave in response to a neutral party. And he chose to manipulate me.
[With a mirthless smile, he tips his chin up at Trish.]
He’s pretty good at it. If I hadn’t been able to check with Reira, I wouldn’t have had a lot of recourse.
no subject
It's not often she comes to his room, regardless, so she sort of stands with her arms cradled around her middle, like she's trying to hold her guts in.
His comment earns a brief wry look from her, at least, despite the anxiety roiling in her belly relentlessly.]
People around here are a little more than shameless, yes.
[The network is not a place of honor.
That aside, maybe Giorno's joke about communicating via carrier pigeon was prophetic. Trish can't help but wrinkle her nose at the mention of Mana, but she decides against complaining. If Mana was truly untrustworthy, she doubts Giorno would even consider it. She eyes his notepad, curious, but doesn't step too close for the time being. She won't linger long, since...this isn't a problem that can be solved over a night's deliberation.
And then Giorno smiles at her, and for all its honesty...it makes her heart drop straight through the floor. She bares her teeth despite herself, but it's clear the motion isn't meant for Giorno.]
Elias doesn't hide it at all, does he? We're playthings to him as much as we are to the Fog.
[It's terrifying, and the fear is obvious over the sharp angles of her teeth because her eyes are too, too wide. That boy was all too happy to turn on Giorno. And without Reira...
She paces here and there, stopping because the motion is pointless, agitated.]
...I suppose until we find an alternative, anything important will have to be said in person.
[Not that such a measure would stop the fog, but she's genuinely at a loss for ideas. This was too sudden, too drastic of a revelation.]
no subject
[It's a very Giorno room.]
[There are tiers of problems, he's found. Mana is the best of a bad lot. Mana is clear about what she wants: money. That he can understand and appreciate. As long as she doesn't ask for worship, the relationship will stand.]
It's interesting, in a way. The Fog appeals to people who want to live without restraint and people who want to be nurtured. Elias appeals to people who want to be free of this place and people who want to nurture. They're equally manipulative, and each is completely convincing to some while transparently horrible to others. It just matters what your perspective is.
[It's interesting, theoretically. It's also fucking awful and he hates it.]
[He hates that it's got Trish so afraid. He doesn't regret telling her, but it bothers him — this place and the way it's chipping away at whatever sense of safety she manages to create for herself. That's simply not acceptable.]
Do you know anything about ciphers?
[Well, okay. That seems . . . okay.]
no subject
It's not much of a distraction, letting her eyes roam around his room to focus on bits and baubles, but it keeps her from staring at Giorno with her expression so open. So did the pacing, but overall both strategies are a poor distraction from the fact she's been very obviously rattled by this.
Which she hates, but this isn't a problem where determination wins out. This is something that requires a measured approach, and she'd been content to just...not think about the gods. They were a part of the scenery, literally, but that's the bastard thing about them, isn't it? They're omnipresent in every possible way. Pretending they aren't is...stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
His comment almost earns a bitter laugh from her. Mukuro fit his image of those swayed by the Fog, maybe, but Signore Javert? Absolutely not. It's splitting hairs though, because he's essentially right. The gods are here to present the illusion of choice.]
Then neither perspective matters at all.
[Trish grouses, and would go back to pacing, perhaps, but Giorno drops that on her.
Slowly, she tilts her head at him.]
...I know what they are. [...] That's probably not encouraging.
[She's willing to learn, at least. Where are you going with this, Giovanna?]
no subject
Each perspective matters to the individual. On the grand scheme of things, they cancel each other out. It's debatable how much any values really matter to the gods, since you can't trust a word either of them say.
[Certainly not anything their followers say, either. To Giorno, it's like taking testimony over a crackly phone connection from a brainwashed person. Not worth the time or energy.]
[He tilts his head right back at her.]
It's not not encouraging. We'd have to do the same amount of work regardless.
[Lacing his fingers together, he rests them over his knees, humming thoughtfully before he responds again. How to put this . . .]
It will be impossible to never use the network to communicate. Speaking about some things on the network is also fine, I think. Casual communication. However, until I figure something out with Mana regarding long-distance communication other than the network, we need an alternative. We'll also continue to need it in case of emergencies. So: a cipher. A code. Something relatively simple for quick and dirty communication that can't be done in person.
The main problem, of course, is that the person we're trying to hide information from is a computer, and many ciphers are essentially mathematical. So we'd need to use a key that he does not have any way of accessing. Like a book. Or a song. And we'd need to have a rotation rather than use the same one all the time. But I think it's our best option.
Are you open to it?
no subject
Just like the warring perspectives here meld into a meaningless jumble of contradiction.
Anyways, she watches Giorno mirror her motion and wrinkles her nose, straightening up because she can't tell if he's doing it to gently mock her or what. As for his suggestion...it's not a bad thought. It seems he's thought about it to some degree too. It doesn't really address the Fog, but from what she gathered from Javert, the Fog god was uncomplicated in her approach. Elias was almost more dangerous to them because he knows how to bend down to the level of a human before vaulting back up again by virtue of his unnaturally-bestowed godhood.
In the interest of moving anxious hands, she drums her fingers on her hips.]
I don't see why I shouldn't be. The trouble is finding something to use that hasn't made its way onto the network already.
[She thinks of people like Kate, who are ahead of them in time. There's a lot before and after there time that could have feasibly made it onto the network.
Which makes this...tough.]
You don't happen to have the most obscure taste known to man, do you?
[In all honesty, Giorno is the most esoteric boy she knows. For good reason, of course, but still.]
no subject
[And a question he can answer helpfully, as it turns out. His expression doesn't shift terribly much, but somehow manages to look much more mischievous all of a sudden despite that. Tapping his lip, he hums.]
Well . . . I have significant portions of Les Misérables memorized. I'm well-acquainted with the paradoxical principles of Il Principe. And I know a genuinely unreasonable number of taxonomical names that could be used as keys.
[But. That's not all. He fixes Trish with a look.]
Meanwhile, you act as though you don't have any resources. The amount of music you've got memorized . . . every song could be a key. I'd have to check with Fugo, but I'm pretty sure it's mathematically improbable for a single boy, even if he's a computer, to go through every single song in the catalogue of humanity and find the correct one before we rotate to a new cipher.
no subject
First and foremost he reminds her of exactly how much of a goddamn dork he is, and she crosses her arms, tail flicking back and forth, some smart-ass comment dancing on her tongue, which he would surely find an improvement to the nervous energy she carried into the room with her.
But then he's looking at her, in that analytical way he does, and she freezes, tail stopping mid-sway like he tapped a button. Of course he's calling her out, but she figures music is more liable to be accessible than what he just put on the table, but...
Her tail resumes swaying.]
It's really not that much music, but I suppose you do have a point.
[Right, because it's not at all incredible to have entire albums memorized. Whatever, girl.]
And the nature of code means that whatever we choose, the underlying meaning won't necessarily match the text. No, between the three of us, we have enough obscure contexts to make some truly hideous ciphers.
[She's still thinking about his offers, because isn't one of those a musical? Turbo nerd alert.]
No, the more I think on it, the more I like this idea.
[It's probably obvious in her body language long before she says it, because she is no longer pacing around, or hunching her shoulders. She walked in here an open book, but now she's put her lock and key and filmy ribbon back on like they were never gone.
Having something actionable to do...helps a lot.]
no subject
[He says it, and he means it, and it shows. When he smiles at her now, it's a smile of satisfaction and pride. He'd never say that he wants Trish to keep that wall up, because of course he doesn't, not in such specific terms, but . . . they both need their safety. She was frightened, and that's why she was so open. Now she knows she's capable of doing something to protect herself — to protect all of them — and she can shore herself up again.]
[That's why he's proud. Because she remembers she's not helpless at all.]
It'll be good to have as a backup, too, even once I get something more permanent. You can never have too many backups.
[Leaning back against his stupid pillow pile, he cants his head at her thoughtfully.]
You brought up a good point earlier. I hope you don't mind if I return to it . . . You used the word "careless" to refer to your behavior, but I think it's more nuanced than that. I've noticed . . .
[Hm. How best to put this? After a bit, he chooses to use an example.]
One of the first people I met here was Maya Fey, in a slightly altered state. She's been here for some years, as you probably know. It was very eye-opening to see the level of . . . resignation, for lack of a better word, she felt for the things that happen here. I think the best way I can put it is that the altered state she was in made it very clear that she sometimes feels very tired, after all this time. So some people's "careless" behavior stems from that. Others' might from unfamiliarity with the technology, lack of concern for their own safety, overfamiliarity with the technology to the point of not questioning it . . .
[He's getting distracted. He clicks his tongue.]
And then . . . someone I knew. Bethan. Who worked very hard against the Fog before I arrived. She didn't trust anyone. I don't think she ever used the network for anything personal, even if it was harmless. She was very, very paranoid. Rightly so, maybe, but at the same time—
I want us to find a middle ground. For the time we're stuck here, we must continue to live to the best of our abilities while also staying safe and secure. We can neither isolate ourselves nor become complacent.
[His expression softens as he looks back at her. His voice quiets, too. He looks almost pleading.]
You're your own person, not part of Passione. I'm never going to tell you what you should or shouldn't do. But it would mean a lot to me if you would work with me on this. On figuring out where to toe that line, so we can stay as stable and steadfast as possible. I won't let this place take any more from us than it absolutely has to, and certainly not from Fugo. He's suffered enough.
this tag killed me instantly, thank u Annechovie
Not that Giorno should have to do these things for her, but she'd be remiss if she didn't admit that he's...better equipped to deal with crises than her. She can survive them, sure, but it was never alone. She hadn't been able to escape her fate until Bruno and Giorno offered her their hands. Just like she returned the favor.
No...it would be impossible to do something so nigh insurmountable alone, and that goes for everything he's saying now. Sure, his pillow pile is comically large, but in this moment, with the way he leans back into it, it's like a soft throne for one of the softest boy-kings she knows. It's weird to know two, actually, but she holds these nickels with pride.
So she listens, her tail swaying gently behind her, and she crosses her arms. He's right, of course. She doesn't want to be the level of paranoid her father was, so much that killing him was erasing him from the world entirely. No...Giorno is right. They have to live, really live, to make their mark if nothing else. To be happy in spite of the world they've found themselves in.
Giorno...has had to do that his whole life.
So it is both surprising and not when Giorno holds out a hand to her, in all ways but physical. Because he's right, she's not beholden to his orders, she's not obligate to do anything he asks for any reason except that she wants to, and maybe...he finds that more meaningful. To have someone at his side who wants to be there that doesn't feel compelled, and who they both know is perhaps too much like him, sometime. But Giorno needs a sounding board too. Even if he is the Don of Passione, a figure that towers over her in every way, a looming shadow she can't forget because Passione nearly robbed her of what little she had left before they fought together to take back that and more. She will never be Giorno's equal...but she can work to be something closer to it, right?
As for Fugo...she saw a glimpse of that, didn't she? That Fugo's life was just as hard. And he can and will work himself to the bone without prompting.
So she meets Giorno's eyes, green versus green, as if a testament to how similar they can be underneath it all.]
...I'm not part of Passione, no. But I've always been your ally, Giorno. That's never going to change.
[She rocks back and forth on her heels.]
And I won't say anything to Fugo about this unless you do. I'm sure you know as well as I do he's already doing his best to keep us both comfortable.
[Chores, remembering the little things...Fugo does so many little things that when she thinks about them, they turn into a mountain and she's at the foothills.]
I don't want to be like Bethan or my father, either. Living in fear is not living at all, even if it gave us all the power in the world. So we'll start with ciphers tonight, and tomorrow...I'll be smarter about how I use the network. But I won't stop using it. Someone has to make sure you're behaving, hm?
[As if Giorno ever misbehaves on the network.
Still, he can definitely see the shift in her attitude. Trish with an ounce of confidence compared to a Trish that is scared and lost is a deep contrast to draw. If only she could maintain that confidence...]
But I will say I don't want to get too comfortable. I'll still be looking for a way out, and being unhappy in this place occasionally is a good reminder to do that.