[EVENT POST] I FEEL STUPID, AND CONTAGIOUS.

[dishearten]

CHARACTERS: Open to all!
DATE: 3/11-3/12, ICly
WARNINGS: Zombie attacks? Violence? Shopping???
SUMMARY: Lockdown at the mall! Grab your CDs and your soft pretzel, it's about to get bad.

LET'S GO TO THE MALL LOCKDOWN Business has been rough for Woodhurst Shopping Center ever since riots and unrest about the Bristol Virus have shunned most to their homes. Perhaps ill-advisedly, in attempts to draw a few more customers back into the polished halls of the grandest shopping experience Woodhurst has to offer, a weekend of big sales, great bargains, and fun family activities was widely advertised in the Woodhurst Watch. There was even a scheduled public concert, performed by the University Choir. The turnout was smaller than hoped, yet the air was quite optimistic. Shoppers enjoyed the day of activities and fun, and the sense of security was bolstered by the increased security detail. There was even some members of the press on hand to document this return to normality in a troubled time. Everything was going well, until a scene broke out in the food court. Security tried to quietly remove members of the choir that suddenly seemed to snap, plowing into one of the food stands and starting to feed on raw meat. However, a good handful of them escaped instant confinement, and while many of the visitors fled the mall as soon as they could, soon Police Detail arrived and put the entire building on lockdown. Nobody in and nobody out until the situation was resolved. 18:00 TO 23:00 HOURS Anyone unlucky enough to be trapped in the mall is left to their own devices, with very little knowledge to go on. This includes many civilians, as well as a small number of Audentes agents. This also includes a small number of infected, more than just the university choir. There's a voice over the loudspeaker imploring people to hide in stores, barricade doors, and stay put until help arrives. The majority of the infected seem to linger in the Food Court especially. Bad news for anyone trapped and starting to get hungry as the hours pass by, without any obvious assistance from the outside. The members of ALASTAIR have a choice, help protect or just do their best to avoid the infected themselves. Characters can get into the Security Office for a camera feed on what is happening in the mall, and potentially use it as a base of operations to work from. 00:00 TO 02:00 HOURS It becomes apparent that the number of infected in the mall are somehow increasing, despite the lockdown. It means that those that have squirreled away into stores and outlets are growing less and less safe as infected numbers multiply and they begin attacking barricades. To make matters worse, anyone that hasn't found cover will find the infected extremely reactive, and willing to give chase around the mall. The security feed indicates the infected seem to be coming in from the Parking Garage. Investigation will reveal a sewer outlet on the bottom floor. Characters will have to decide whether they should utilize the tunnel as a means of escape, or if sealing it off would ultimately leave the remaining hours of lockdown a little less violent. 04:00 TO 09:00 HOURS It's been an agonizing 12 hours, and with surprisingly little aide from the outside. With time to make preparations and put plans in place, now it's time to end this lockdown once and for all. Audentes is tasked with neutralizing the remaining infected as well as escorting any remaining civilians to safety, by any means they decide on. It is up to Audentes to decide how the end of this event plays out, be it removing or otherwise drawing away the lingering infected, or putting them down once and for all. There are plenty of civilians that have been bitten and attacked, leaving the question in the air as to whether they are infected as well. What should be done with those that could be bringing the virus back to their families? The team is going to have to decide on the answer to that.

Comments

& closed.

[digiorno]

( 18:00 - 23:00 ) ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʙɪᴋᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴋs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴜᴇ ( Fᴜɢᴇᴛᴛᴏ ᴇ Aɴɪᴋɪ )

[This is so annoying. Annoying, that's the word he uses to himself instead of terrifying. It mostly works; he's an excellent liar, even to himself. It's annoying, he thinks, because he wanted to have a nice day, with his Fugo and with Jin, both of whom could do with relaxing a little. He wanted to keep an eye on people, get a feel for how the population at large is feeling, how they're coping. He wanted to make fun of American mall food. He wanted to buy new sunglasses. And yet.]

[The truth of the matter is, in a situation like this, with who he's with, his first concern isn't the flesh-eating infected. He can grow flesh back. Who knows? He might even be immune. Not really worth a deliberate risk, but it's not as though he particularly values his own skin.]

[Jin can't, though. There's a much bigger and more immediate danger than the infected around the corner, and it's standing right next to them.]

[Giorno smiles a little crookedly and slides his fingers through Fugo's, squeezing his hand gently. It's flirtatious. It's insane. But it's also deliberate, because they're stuck in a corner near a crowd of panicked people, and if they don't get out of here soon there's the potential that everyone here is going to fucking die.]

Jin? You're enormous. Do me a favor and look around quickly, please, over people's heads, until you find the biggest open space you possibly can, as far away from other people as you can. Do not argue with me or ask questions. Thank you.

( 18:00 - 23:00 ) sᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇ, ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪᴛ ( Sᴀɪ ᴇ Nᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ )

[As soon as he's got a spare moment, which takes longer than he expects it to, Giorno breaks away from Fugo and Jin for a bit to find Sai. Which in a way is illogical. He knows that Sai is perfectly capable--nearly as capable as he is, in some ways, and probably more so in some ways. So he doesn't need to check on him.]

[But they agreed to be friends. Caring about each other is what friends do. Sometimes, taking stupid risks to take care of each other is friends do. So it's a point of stubbornness, too, in a way: I'm going to be a good friend to Sai, because he deserves it, flesh-eating undead monsters or no flesh-eating undead monsters.]

[So he hurries, spreading his life-sense out out out so he can feel who's coming, human or not-quite-human-anymore. It's a relief when he turns a corner and sees Sai, not only visibly safe but with the same person he was with before--a friend, it has to be a friend, and someone Sai trusts, too, if he's sticking with him in a crisis. (How many people in the world does Sai honestly trust?)]

Oh, thank God. [Giorno exhales sharply, visibly, and grins with relief, a shockingly unguarded expression for him.] I was worried. But you're okay!

( 00:00 - 02:00 ) sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ ʙᴜʀsᴛɪɴɢ, ʜᴏᴡ's ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴄᴏᴜsɪɴ? ( Fᴜɢᴇᴛᴛᴏ ᴇ Jᴏᴊᴏ )

[Picture this.]

[Here are two boys in the middle of this fucked-up mall, surrounded by infected, trying not to get bitten or let anyone else get bitten, or trampled, or so on and so forth, various crisis-related hazards. Here are two boys who are under a lot of stress, and have a lot of zombie-related baggage anyway, and coincidentally one of them, when stressed, is pretty likely to whip out a flesh-eating virus himself, only by accident, which makes it extra fun.]

[It's been an evening. And now, just past midnight, here they are, just outside the foodcourt, nervously eyeing the infected milling around. They are mostly in the food court at this point and seem to be treating it as a home base of sorts, which is annoying on the one hand but could potentially make it easy for them to corral all of the infected. Fugo and Giorno are having a silent conversation using body language, mostly eyes and eyebrow wiggles, to determine the relative advantages of attacking here and now or going back for help.]

[And then all of a sudden, one of the infected looks up and sees them. And then, one by one, all of the infected look up and see them.]

[Which answers the question about relative advantages very succinctly.]

[There's no conversation needed before they both decide to run. Fugo's hand finds Giorno's, and they're off like bats out of hell (#vampirejoke), running for the hills, for higher-ground, for that coffee shop with the grate thingy they figured out how to slam down. It should be fine. It should be. The infected aren't following that fast.]

[Except Fugo can't run that fast. He isn't well. He's never well. When Fugo starts lagging behind, Giorno does too, because like hell is he leaving Fugo behind--and the distance between them and the infected begins to slowly close.]

[And then, out of nowhere, a figure looms up behind them, picks Fugo up around the waist, tucks him against its side, and pulls ahead. Giorno helps and hangs on to Fugo's hand tighter, but it's no good, and their fingers break apart, and he growls and moves because no, he doesn't care, it doesn't take life sense to be able to tell that's not an infected person but he's seeing infrared.]

Put him down, you son of a bitch!

[thinhammer]

[ Naruto has his rucksack hitched high on his back, his thumbs in the straps, and he's partway through trying to explain a rather haphazard plan of action to a less than impressed Sai... and the more Naruto tries to include in said plan the more tumbling his explanation becomes, till he's just kind of sighing and groaning instead of actually formulating anything cohesive. The idea is there - he definitely wants to make sure the innocents are safe, but doing that and also stopping infected spreading and also making sure sure they have the advantage in this lockdown that could last who knows how long, is a little too much multitasking for Naruto's one track mind.

It's kind of a relief, then, when a voice sounds close by. It's close enough that it was intended for them, but... he doesn't recognise it, so he gives the speaker a confused look.

That's when he realises the guy is looking at Sai and Naruto's confusion turns into total surprise. ]

Uh.

[daimeinashi]

[Sai, on the other hand, definitely recognizes the new voice that has joined them. It might not be obvious at first, though, considering the mildly puzzled expression on his face. Which has less to do with Giorno himself (hi welcome back how have u been), and more to do with his words.

But then he notes Naruto's reaction, and his own expression changes. He's careful not to do the fake smile, even if it would be appropriate in this situation--Giorno had said he didn't want him to do it unless he was happy, and like he had confessed to Asher, he's not really sure he knows what that feels like, yet. It's more like a flattening out, if anything, the confusion falling away for Naruto's benefit as he turns to his teammate--]

Ah, Naruto. This is Giorno.

[His pronunciation is still a little rough, though...perhaps closer to the original Japanese name it was for comfort.]

Naruto is my teammate, from my original world.

[And, perhaps imperceptibly to Naruto, there's a note of possession in there, directed at Giorno. They said they would be friends, yes, but there is no forgetting the way they first met--Sai knows Giorno is dangerous, in the same way he is dangerous. To everyone but their own. Naruto is one of his, he signals.

Speaking of which, though...]

...You were worried about me? Why?

[That's something about friendship nobody explained to him, after all, and in the brief time he's experienced with it, it's been too easy to explain away his protectiveness of Naruto to the fact that they were teammates.]

[digiorno]

[Oh, no. That's so dumb, and weirdly charming. Giorno's grin goes sharp for one-eighth of a second--and then Sai speaks, and his tone stops all of that in its tracks.]

[Giorno understands nuance in a way that a lot of people don't. He's had to. But the nuance of possession is something special. In this case, it says two things: this is not a danger and this is mine, so you are forbidden from hurting it. Or playing with it, which sometimes means the same thing in Giorno's case.]

[It's pretty reassuring, in its way. Sai has a friend he cares enough about to want to protect from someone he considers dangerous. So, out of respect for that, Giorno turns his megawatt smile down a little bit.]

Buon giorno, Naruto. It's nice to meet you. Sorry about all this.

[Like he's personally responsible or something, this little shit.]

Mm, often friends worry about each other when something bad is happening, Sai. Or even sometimes for no reason--I tend to be a little bit of a worrywart when it comes to my friends. But certainly when there are very hungry flesh-eating people wandering around, it's a situation that calls for a check-in. Don't you think, Naruto?

[thinhammer]

[ Naruto has no recognition or idea about any of the subtleties going on between the two in all of their unsaid intentions, because Naruto is very upfront about what he feels and requires things to be upfront in order to understand them.. and honestly he's still struggling with the fact that Sai has made a friend at all. Don't get him wrong, he's happy -- even if just for the assurance that Sai is capable of making friends as well as the knowledge that Sai hasn't been totally alone here -- but it's still weird.

He leaves this awkward pause after Giorno's response because he genuinely can't process an answer. ]

U-Uh.. Yeah. I mean-- Yeah, of course!

[ He looks at Sai, maybe a bit awkwardly. Is that why Sai checked up on him today? ]

[daimeinashi]

[...Bonds, then? It must be bonds. So it's a part of the experience of friendship to feel concern over each other's safety, even when each other are perfectly capable? It seems illogical, but at the same time, it is only reasonable to want to ascertain the status of your allies during various points of a mission--that would be true of Konoha as well, he supposes.]

I see. [Sort of.] Well, I am unharmed, as you can see. You appear to be, as well.

[Not that he's surprised. He remembers that fucking venomous spider you created out of thin air, Giorno. He's pretty sure the other boy could wipe out this entire mall like it was nothing, if he so chose.]

...If there is anyone else you wish to locate, I can be of assistance, should you require it?

[digiorno]

[Giorno hesitates, then shrugs a little bit. He sort of wants to explain more--about what it means to be worried about someone, how it isn't always rational, how sometimes it's good not to be rational. But it doesn't seem like the kind of conversation for here and now.]

[That annoys him. He'd like the zombies to just stop for a while so he can have a nice conversation. But we can't have nice things, apparently.]

No. I only wanted to check in on you.

[Read: nobody else was as important as Sai, so he just checked on Sai. He glances at Naruto again, quirking a brow.]

You seem confused. I'd like to speak with both of you about next steps, since I know Sai's capable and if he trusts you, then so are you, but if you have a question . . .

[thinhammer]

[ What even is happening. He knows he's just struggling with how weird it is to see someone like Sai, someone so typically solitary, be specifically sought out as a companion... but in the same thread he knows he's been guilty of the same; has felt better when he's had Sai around despite all of Sai's suffocating practicality.. So is he simply uncomfortable because the person seeking Sai out isn't him? He can't really process it as jealousy, but maybe it's just his habit of being protective. They are teammates after all, and Naruto has never even met this guy suddenly approaching them before. What kind of guy do you have to be to be friends with Sai? Someone similar to him? How dangerous might he be?

Naruto shakes his head a little too intensely, defensive in the face of being found out in a state of confusion. ]

Nah, I'm good. Sai and me go way back- [ Like they're old men who've come to a natural fondness for each other rather than two kids working through both their variations of feelings. ] -so we're good at workin' together, if ya need any help.

[daimeinashi]

[Now Sai looks at Giorno, vaguely confused. If such a concern was standard in friendship, then why was he the only one Giorno was looking for? He knows Giorno has other friends, because he remembers that time they were trapped under the mistletoe, and Giorno had said he liked kissing friends.

But perhaps ... he is the only friend trapped in the mall with him? It is something he can question the other about later, perhaps. It's true that they don't have time for this kind of conversation, unfortunately.]

Yes, Naruto's skills and mine complement each other's.

...Though without Sakura, we are lacking a teammate with medical abilities.

[Which makes Giorno being here real convenient, not that Sai knows that yet.]

[unholey]

[This is all going very poorly.]

[This being trying to herd the infected into a more contained space. The expedition. The trip in general. He's so tired. But he can't stop, even though there are spots in his vision that won't go away and his lungs are screaming, because if he stops-- well, people are going to die. And, God, he's been trying so hard this whole time to avoid being pushed into a corner where that becomes less of a possibility and more of an inevitability.

It's so stupid. He's run for longer than this before. Oh, sure, it was jogging rather than sprinting but-- he's the one tugging on Giorno's hand, slowing him down because his stupid body won't move. Fugo grits his teeth and strains to scrape the bottom of the barrel for energy he doesn't have. There are so many people chasing after them that he can't tell the heavy footsteps apart from the crowd until a moment before it's too late; Fugo turns to look behind him, eyes glassy with the exhaustion that go wide with shock when a pair of stupidly enormous arms reach out and grab him by the waist.

And then: his feet aren't touching the floor. And then: by the time he looks back towards Giorno, their fingers are pulling apart and when he tries to grab him by the wrist his hand comes up short. And now: every teeth-rattling stride this stranger takes is taking him farther away from Giorno.]

[What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck--]

[Fugo is so tired and almost entirely out of breath from his ill-advised sprinting. But, by God, he's got the breath him him to let out a stream of the best (worst?) swears Italy has to offer, peppered in with increasingly insistent demands him to put him the fuck down. And when that doesn't work, he just. There isn't really room to maneuver, so he (rather ineffectively) starts slapping and pushing at the side and abdomen of whoever decided to pick him up and just. Haul off with him like a sack of stolen goods.]

[nextlineis]

[As much as Joseph might sometimes try to pretend like other people's problems aren't his and that he's going to stay out of it, that almost never actually ends up being what happens. It'd be especially foolish to think that it would be true this time when he spots two kids holding hands while running with the distance between them and the infected getting smaller and smaller and smaller.]

[So, Joseph does what he does best, which is meddling. And hauling ass.]

[Of course, it doesn't appear that there's about to be any gratitude between the futile smacks and pushes at his sides and stomach, and the hollering behind him. He frowns. Gratitude isn't the reason why he'd do this sort of thing, but goddamn. It'd be nice if he could get a little recognition for doing a good thing instead of getting smacked and yelled at. He looks over his shoulder back at the kid trailing behind.]

Less talking and more running!

[Also less talking because Joseph needs to be able to focus. It's not just mindless running away, after all. He's looking for the closets safe spot to dump these two kids off until something can be done to get everyone out.]

[digiorno]

[This is like a nightmare. The rest of it--the rest of it was bad enough, but this? This is something else. He knows as it happens that no matter how this ends, he'll see Fugo disappearing too fast for him to keep up for months in his dreams. Maybe forever. He thinks his dreams of Bruno will last forever.]

[This is awful. This is so ugly. He can hear them catching up behind him. He can't keep up with Joseph, not at this pace. No, he can't, and he won't lose Fugo, not again, so--]

[So the rational reaction here is to reach out with a vine and wrap it around Joseph's free forearm with an audible slap, thorns digging into his flesh and catching tight. Giorno does his best to speed up, but even if he can't keep up: Joseph isn't getting away. Fugo isn't going anywhere without him.]

[This is normal and totally fine, obviously.]

[unholey]

[Okay, this ... is happening. It's awful and objectively frightening in a way that losing his footing in this escape wasn't, because he's more afraid of losing Giorno than he is of hurting himself or even hurting any of these unfortunate people who had the bad luck of getting infected with a virus that made them lose their minds. But it's happening, and-- now that he's got a chance to think, he rationally realizes that it would be disastrous at this point if he managed to break free. He'd fall and, honestly, he's not sure if he can get up and go again. Like it or not (and he does not like it) he'll have to trust, for the time being, that he's being hauled off to a safe spot.]

Slow down--! [Instead of pushing, Fugo's fingers insistently find and tug on Joseph's shirt to try and get his attention. He can't see Giorno from here, doesn't realize that he's already acting to keep himself tethered to Joseph.] He can't keep up!

[nextlineis]

[Joseph grits his teeth. He doesn't have the time to process that vines shouldn't be appearing out of nowhere between focusing on where he's running and the fact there are thorns now digging into his skin.]

What the hell are you—!?

[He lets out an aggravated, exasperated growl.]

[This is going to hurt. Joseph's probably going to regret doing this later most likely, but he twists his arm to get a hand around the length of vine between himself as the boy chasing after him. Uninterested in being slowed down any further than he already has, he tugs the vine forward with the intention of getting the kid behind him off-balance enough that he can catch him with that arm and get him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. If he can't keep up, Joseph will do enough running for the three of them.]

[digiorno]

[It's infuriating. It shouldn't happen like this. He shouldn't have miscalculated this badly--but he did, and here they are: with Joseph ripping the vine out of his arm in just just a way that Gold Experience doesn't register it as a physical threat, doesn't lash out in self-defense, lets Joseph just pick him up and start running with him under one arm, Fugo under the other.]

[Giorno lets out a stream of curses. Filthy ones. Probably no one but Mista has ever heard him say such nasty things, but he's pissed and scared, writhing under Joseph's arm like a feral cat. He's on the verge of just giving up and sinking his teeth into Joseph's side, when all of a sudden he just.]

[Slumps. Totally limp. Docile.]

[His mind is moving. Slowly but surely, second by second, millimeter by millimeter, he eases the stiletto out of his sleeve. He never looks up, but--]

Fugo! Collaborare. Quando si lascia andare, prendilo a calci in culo.

[Joseph may regret not learning Italian while he had the chance.]

[unholey]

[What the fuck. That's really the only thought Fugo has when this guy, this gigantic isosceles triangle with legs, just pulls Giorno forward and swings him up onto his shoulder like an a small, furious animal. And Giorno is very angry (Fugo has never heard him swear like that, ever) until he's very suddenly not, in a way that makes Fugo's heart just-- stop.

He won't forget the way that Giorno Giovanna, indomitable and unbeatable, went slack and stopped fighting. Even if he already had a plan in action.]

[But: okay. There's a plan in place, sort of. Giorno still has his knife, always has Gold Experience. They just need to get there, he hazily thinks, squinting through his swimming vision to try and place how far they've gotten. Once he's placed them and mentally oriented himself in relation to the closest safe spot, Fugo rudely slaps at Joseph's side again to get his attention.]

Hey, you! Across the plaza, to the left-- [It's very hard to point in this position, especially when he's still wheezing and trying to catch his breath, but boy is he trying.] Shoe shop! Half-open grate!

[Meaning: get over there, get in, lock it the hell up.]

[nextlineis]

[The sudden limpness of the second kid in his hold is strange, and it raises a red flag in Joseph's mind, but he's not at all aware — nor even potentially thinking about the possibility — of a hidden weapon being pulled. His attention certainly doesn't linger when there's another slap to his side, and he turns his head to frown at the first kid.]

I have a name, you know!

[Because he totally took the time to say it during all of this. Clearly.]

[But even with as disgruntled as he is with being smacked and barked at with orders like he's some kind of dog, it's as good a place to hole up for a little while as any, assuming there isn't anything lingering inside the shop. Joseph shifts trajectory to head toward the shoe store. When he reaches it, he doesn't anticipate that the first kid's going to have it in him to get in there, so he skids to a halt just outside the grate and with very little grace slides Fugo under the grate along the floor in a very literal fashion.]

[The other kid he sets down, keeping his arm just behind his back to keep him from standing up completely and slow down the process of him getting inside the store.]

You next, go.

[pummelling]

[Kung Jin had made the mistake of underestimating Giorno Giovanna once, and he would never make it again, after seeing what the younger boy was truly capable of. A day of respite interrupted is not so risky for the three of them as it'd be for anyone else he could've come with today: he's in control of himself enough to not get bitten, and Giorno has his 'ability'. Presumably, so does his companion, though neither of them deigned it necessary to share what, exactly, the power of Purple Haze brimming under Fugo's skin truly does.

But they're all still human. They can still get hurt, though he knows a shopping mall full of zombies like some bad movie isn't going to kill any of them, not by a long shot. And Fugo looks anxious when he looks back: moreso than usual, even if he's looking much haler now that Giorno's returned to the team. Giorno doesn't have to tell him not to argue--]

You got it.

[--even if there is a knowing, quirked-eyebrow glance back at him and Fugo. You're teenagers? Just make out, you guys.

He scans the area, fortunately for all of them, sans commentary. A moment later, he answers:] Closed-down department store, four o'clock. [Jin nudges his head in the empty store's direction. It's shut off from the rest of the mall with a metal grate, but like that's actually going to stop these three hooligans from getting in....] Security won't check there, they're dealing with corralling infected. Once we get inside we can even shut the grate again to keep wanderers out.

I'll just keep a running mental tally of my questions, then.

[unholey]

[There's a wall to his back and to his right. A crowd of frantic people to his front, all caught together in a knot trying to find a way out and away from the infected who, as more blood is spilled, are increasingly losing control of themselves. Jin's between him and the crowd and, honestly, he doesn't know what to think about that. Fugo trusts people not to stand between him and danger. So he isn't really reassured one way or another by Jin's presence: honestly, he's just one more thing to worry about, one more person he has to try and work around if he can't hold Purple Haze back.

(It's hard. He's-- scared, he thinks. His fingers feel cold, have been ever since it was announced over the loudspeakers that they were locked in. Locked down. Whatever.)

But to his left, there's Giorno. Whose fingers have slipped in between his, whose grip on his hand is unshakable. I'm with you, no matter what is what the gesture means and I believe in you. Fugo's not sure if he believes in himself at the moment-- but he does faith in Giorno and his ability to quickly assess potential threats. When Jin quirks an eyebrow at them, Fugo scowls at him because it feels like Jin is laughing at some joke he doesn't have the punchline to.]

That will do. [After he speaks, Fugo reaches up to rub the muscles near his jaw. He's clenching his teeth too hard again; it hurts.] At least to get our bearings and make a plan.

[digiorno]

[Keep your eyebrows to yourself, Jin. That's what he's thinking. But he doesn't say it. He doesn't want to start bickering. He doesn't want to start anything, not with Jin, not right now. Not until they get out of here. All of his attention has to be focused on Fugo, if they're going to get out of here at all.]

[Fugo's fingers are cold. He runs his thumb along the side of his hand and gives him another smile, reassuring this time. Then he spares a moment to glance towards four o'clock, giving it a once-over before nodding sharply and turning back to Fugo again.]

[Is he going to speak to Jin without looking at him again? Absolutely.]

Please save your questions and smartass commentary for later, yes. For the moment, you're going to walk ahead and make away through all these people for us. Go the quickest way you can find. We'll stay right behind you as long as you keep a steady pace. No running. Keep calm.

That goes for you too. [This is to Fugo, now.] I trust Jin. You need to trust him too. And I know you trust me, va bene?

[He nudges Fugo forward, behind Jin and in front of him--he'll bring up the rear--although he doesn't let go of Fugo's hand.]

Tell me all the different ways to pick a lock. By the time you've gone through them all, we'll be there.

[pummelling]

[This, he supposes, is simply Giorno's way. Jin knows when he's not in charge, and, for once, he's content to accept that much-- with a soft 'hmph' of acknowledgment, he nods at the two younger boys.]

Don't worry. I'm cool as a cucumber.

[kung jin you're so fucking lame

He skims the crowd a second time, finding a relatively clear path amongst the host of people scurrying about. Without further smartass commentary, as requested, he's moving forward: his pace even and steady, so Fugo and Giorno can follow him safely.]

[unholey]

[He will do this. Not he can: he will, because he has to. Fugo doesn't trust Jin-- but he does trust Giorno. And if Giorno trusts Jin to make a way, Fugo will follow him. He looks out at the crowd and feels sick with the knowledge that, in a few steps, they'll be part of that tightly-packed press of people. He can't-- look. If he looks, it will all go wrong. Just thinking about it is making his chest feel painfully tight and send prickles of painful anxiety crawling up and down his back and neck.

Before they start to move, his free hand snakes out and grabs a handful of Jin's jacket; he means to hold it loosely, but his grip is tight enough that his knuckles are white. Once he's certain that the three of them are tethered together, Fugo wrenches his eyes shut. His grip on Giorno's hand is like a vise.]

[Left foot. Right foot. While they walk, Fugo begins to recite the ways he knows how to pick locks: of which there are many, all of which he quietly explains in a soft, mild-mannered voice that might belong to a student reading a page from a textbook while he blindly follows Jin to the department store.]

[digiorno]

[It's awful to not be able to just fix situations like this. It feels wrong. If he were at home, he'd speak one quiet word and everyone, panic or no panic, would part like the Red Sea to make way for his Fugo. But here, this is the best he can do.]

[And he does it well. God, does he ever--he hates it, but he focuses, and he stays calm, and he functions. He's so good at functioning.]

[Even if there's a moment, just before they start moving, that Fugo reaches out and grabs hold of Jin's jacket, and in that moment Giorno feels his heart breaking. Like a bone; his heart has always been so brittle anyway. In that moment, he looks up and meets Jin's eyes. The pain is so clear in him that he might as well be bleeding.]

[Do you understand now?]

[And then they move. Giorno paces himself; he's careful, watchful, with Gold Experience coming out to bring up the rear behind him. He feels for the pulses of everyone around him, keeps careful track--and it's a lot to think about, but for Fugo and for Jin and for the safety of everyone in here, he does it. A quarter of the way through the journey, he turns to Fugo and murmurs: Good job. I've got you. Halfway, the same: Halfway there, you can do it, I've got you. Three-quarters: Almost there, almost. You're amazing. Keep your eyes closed, I've got you.]

[And then it's over. For now. They cross the threshold in a line, Jin and Fugo and Giorno and Gold Experience; Giorno turns so his back is to the store, his eyes fixed and sharp on the crowd they've left behind. Then he exhales sharply and refocuses.]

Fugo, let go for a moment, please. Jin, bring the grate down. Then come back and stay next to us, please.

[He catches Fugo's other hand and pulls him close with both at once, looking at him with intent concern.]

Fugo. It's okay. You can open your eyes, we made it. You're safe, non hai male a nessuno.

[Jin . . . can't know. Yet. But he'll have to, soon. He will.]

[pummelling]

[Jin steps forward and for a moment there's no give. The fist, balled into his jacket, tugs him backward and to a halt; he pauses, thrown off by that resistance. He expects the slight fingers of Giorno Giovanna curled into the fabric of the coat when he cranes his neck to look back over his shoulder.

Not Fugo's.

He catches Giorno's gaze just then, the comprehension of the situation now reflecting in his own eyes. The boy's face is pinched in an expression of silent, aching grief that he has only seen once before, months ago. (I would share his burden--because I knew it was too heavy for him to carry all on his own.) And his annoyance with Fugo's know-it-all attitude, his quiet restraint, falls immediately to the wayside of Jin's mind in favor of the too-lean build, the dark rings under the boy's sharp eyes. He thinks of the occasional odd tilt to Giorno's sentences and the calculated distance in his words, far removed from his bright, radiating charisma. Although it seems ridiculous to forget, he remembers how much taller and broader he is than his companions; he remembers the significance of those odd-handful of years he's lived longer than Fugo and Giorno, and Fugo's fist building wrinkles into his jacket doesn't matter, doesn't matter, doesn't matter, because damn it, they are all getting out of this building alive.

In this moment, the two of them are only boys. Whatever may anchor them, Jin will choose to share.

He takes one short step. Half a step, really. He waits until he hears Giorno's footsteps against the shopping mall's tile, and then Fugo's. He takes one more, then moves forward at an even pace. Never too brisk for Fugo, whose mild narration, bizarrely, keeps even Jin at ease.

Before he realizes it, they're there. He smiles thinly at the two before leaving Giorno to take care of Fugo so he can take care of the storefront's metal shutters. In the moment, it doesn't look like anything out of the ordinary: other stores have already closed and locked themselves up tight for security, what's one more to their number?

Once they're enclosed and safe, Jin makes his way back. He looks at Giorno expectantly, hoping to catch his gaze when he breaks eye contact with Fugo. For everyone's sake, he's still reserving his questions, opting instead for something simpler, to the point:]

What's next?

[unholey]

[Fugo doesn't see the look that Giorno gives Jin, or the way Jin looks down at him. He can't see anything. He doesn't hear much either, because he-- has to focus on the material he's reciting, because when he focuses he can filter out the screaming and the crying and the shouting. Purple Haze, howling with fury because every other time Fugo has been this afraid the fastest solution to the problem was to kill and he can't, he can't, he can't. The heavy sounds of people pushing and fighting around them. The only voice that reaches him is Giorno's. I have you: that's the promise he fixes on, that the hand locked in with his belongs to Giorno.

Left, right, left, right; they're making progress, he thinks. Giorno has him. They're halfway. Giorno hasn't let go. They're almost there. Giorno is still with him, even though it must hurt to be held onto so tightly.]

[He doesn't quite realize they've made it. He stands still, his eyes still tightly closed and his hand still balled tightly in Jin's jacket. He doesn't let go of until Giorno pulls him away and starts the process of easing him out of his head and back into thepresent. When he opens his eyes and looks at Giorno, they're so glassy and faraway, pupils enormous in his uncanny, red irises, it's obvious he doesn't see him. He looks very lost.]

Giogio? [He knows that he's there, though. You didn't hurt anyone. Fugo finally allows himself to shudder, because it's been a very long time since he's been this irrationally, foolishly frightened. (How did it get this bad? He's not really claustrophobic. Closed spaces, or densely packed crowds, are just places he avoids as a precaution, not something he's actually afraid of.) Too close. That was too close. But he didn't hurt anyone. Fugo's fingers twitch in Giorno's hands and, very quickly, his pupils contract and he's more himself again.]

Sono qui. Sto bene. [This quiet assurance is less for himself and more for Giorno, who looks so worried and afraid. Fugo's grip shifts and adjusts in Giorno's hands, still sure but not so painfully tight.]