[Giorno's expression is complicated, mercurial. He doesn't attempt to hide the way it shifts, but where it ends up is difficult to read, let alone all the stops it makes along the way. He's caught up in Trish, not only the memories of her in this fake place but memories from home. He's been here much longer than he knew her, so logic would dictate he shouldn't miss her so much, but he does, every day, as loudly as pain. He wonders what she would think of what this place has done to them, if she'd judge them for having to follow the rules monsters live by (he doubts it) or tease Mista for the bright colors on his tail (almost certainly). If she were here, things would be different. Still awful in so many ways, but better. What a selfish thing to wish for.]

[When Riley speaks, something twists. He desperately doesn't want to fight with her, doesn't want to hurt her. At the same time, what she's saying is so categorically detrimental to everything he's chosen to be that he can't let it stand unchallenged.]

[So, he chooses his words carefully.]

I understand that your experience was your own, and I don't mean to devalue it. Please believe that. But I would rather a hundred clones crawl out of my brain than ever go through that again.

[For a moment he's quiet again, trying to sort out a feeling. Overlaying the stinging pain and humiliation is an easier emotion: indignation. Decidedly, he nods and looks up at her again.]

It was disrespectful. That's all.

[Of course it isn't all. But it's the most presentable part.]