[Giorno disappears. It's only for a moment. But for that horrifying, too-long moment, he is simply gone. Spirited away to a place in his head that Fugo can't reach no matter how far he strains to reach. He can't-- breathe. Bad air is caught in his throat and Giorno's fingers are so stiff and still in his hands. He's gone and all Fugo can do is hold onto him and wait for him to come back]
[One. Two. Three. Four. Five.]
[It takes so long. But Giorno does come back to them, with a smile that looks to Fugo like an open wound. He reacts. He lets go of Fugo with one hand and moves to push Jin's hand away half a heartbeat behind when Jin pulls away, the tightly wound tension in his shoulders going nowhere. He is still so afraid. Fugo doesn't think: he simply reacts, moving and shifting his grip so he can keep a hold of the one hand Giorno has left in his care between both of his.
Even if he could say it in front of Jin-- which he knows, for both of their sakes, that he can't-- he desperately wants to reaffirm the promise he made to Giorno on the bright, cold morning of October 24th and this is the only way he can think to do it.]
[He wants to be home. Home as in Napoli, in the room he barely had the chance to get used to thinking of his own. But he'd settle for the apartment with Sigma and Ramir, even though the couch has been torn apart and all the windows are closed up and boarded off and being in there for too long makes him feel like he's going to be sick.
But this is where they are right now: a closed down department store in a mall that is in the process of being locked in-- locked down, he viciously corrects himself-- with Kung Jin. Who ... needs to know. About Purple Haze. He shakes his head at Giorno's offer, mouth pressed into a thin, unhappy line.]
No. I can do it. No one should have to do it but me.
[He doesn't move to push his hair back into place, even though it's fallen in his eyes. He falls quiet. He doesn't even know where to begin, because he can't recall exactly how much Jin knows about Gold Experience and what he can do. But, eventually, he finds a way to start that is simple, direct, and at the heart of everything.]
I'm poison. [Conium maculatum, colloquially known as poison hemlock. In ancient Greece, it was given to prisoners condemned to death. Once he starts there, the rest comes easily.] I can create an airborne flesh-eating virus. The average time of death post-infection for adult males is thirty seconds. It's weak to any form of light.
My range is five meters. I can't control who gets infected. It reacts to my emotions. First anger. Then fear.
no subject
[One. Two. Three. Four. Five.]
[It takes so long. But Giorno does come back to them, with a smile that looks to Fugo like an open wound. He reacts. He lets go of Fugo with one hand and moves to push Jin's hand away half a heartbeat behind when Jin pulls away, the tightly wound tension in his shoulders going nowhere. He is still so afraid. Fugo doesn't think: he simply reacts, moving and shifting his grip so he can keep a hold of the one hand Giorno has left in his care between both of his.
Even if he could say it in front of Jin-- which he knows, for both of their sakes, that he can't-- he desperately wants to reaffirm the promise he made to Giorno on the bright, cold morning of October 24th and this is the only way he can think to do it.]
[He wants to be home. Home as in Napoli, in the room he barely had the chance to get used to thinking of his own. But he'd settle for the apartment with Sigma and Ramir, even though the couch has been torn apart and all the windows are closed up and boarded off and being in there for too long makes him feel like he's going to be sick.
But this is where they are right now: a closed down department store in a mall that is in the process of being locked in-- locked down, he viciously corrects himself-- with Kung Jin. Who ... needs to know. About Purple Haze. He shakes his head at Giorno's offer, mouth pressed into a thin, unhappy line.]
No. I can do it. No one should have to do it but me.
[He doesn't move to push his hair back into place, even though it's fallen in his eyes. He falls quiet. He doesn't even know where to begin, because he can't recall exactly how much Jin knows about Gold Experience and what he can do. But, eventually, he finds a way to start that is simple, direct, and at the heart of everything.]
I'm poison. [Conium maculatum, colloquially known as poison hemlock. In ancient Greece, it was given to prisoners condemned to death. Once he starts there, the rest comes easily.] I can create an airborne flesh-eating virus. The average time of death post-infection for adult males is thirty seconds. It's weak to any form of light.
My range is five meters. I can't control who gets infected. It reacts to my emotions. First anger. Then fear.