isawallflower | RYSLIG; ic inbox

[ No, that's not it. No, she doesn't want to run— no, he doesn't have to— he didn't—

That other Riley wouldn't have these problems. That other Riley wasn't a filthy, disgusting monster inside and out, that other Riley only— ]

You didn't say anything strange, okay, I did, like always, s-so j-just—

[ It's out of her mouth before she can stop it. Stupid. Impulsive, reckless girl. This is always what gets her into trouble. Listening to everything clawing inside her head. But then what else does she listen to, why can't she just.

Stop.

Her claws have started digging into the skin on her arms without her realizing it. She's staring at the ground but not really seeing it. ]

I did something wrong, okay? I did.

[He was an unimposing figure once, but even then, even when he was unmotivated to move much at all, he was capable of surprising strength and speed. That's only increased now — and one thing he's learned in the past year is that his most impulsive, stupid choices are made for people he cares about.]

[The truth of the matter is that Riley is a physical threat to him as much as he is to her. They're both made of weapons, now. But that doesn't stop him from darting forward, grabbing her by the wrists, and yanking them away from her arms, up and between them, close to eye level. So he can keep watch on them. So that she can see what her own hands are doing. While the gesture is rough, he's careful to keep his claws a safe distance from her skin.]

Riley. I don't know what you think you did wrong.

[Calm, but not soothing. Level, but not kind. He's being honest, like he has been for the past ten minutes: he has no idea what she's talking about.]

Bad things have happened, but they aren't your fault. What are you blaming yourself for?

[ Little bits of blood drip from her claws, and she stares at them, almost shocked. She hadn't caused deep cuts, but they're just enough to bleed. It reminds her of that night she ripped the thing that spoke in her family's voices into little pieces, when she ripped the little mouths whispering her sins off her arms, opening gashes that took until the next fog to heal.

Her family. Her sins. Riley almost whimpers at the thought of it, of the memory of looking up at him in the tree, paralyzed— ]

You're absolutely joking, right? [ Tight, clipped, pained. ] Don't— please don't make me say it.

I'm absolutely serious.

[And he is. More so than he is about most things, albeit in an oblique way. Riley is important, Riley matters, and if she's going to ice him out for something he's damn well going to know what it is. Never mind that half an hour ago he was avoiding everyone he knew like the plague. Never mind that half of this is just him digging his heels in out of sheer stubbornness. It doesn't matter. Riley matters.]

What do you think you've done to me that's so bad? I don't know. I can't know unless you tell me.

[But he's missing a piece, of course. To me. He thinks it's something she did to him, specifically. Because bad things happen, they've all done bad things, and that day in the tree is the farthest thing from his mind.]

[ And unlike that day, out of almost pure incredulity, Riley finds she can actually find the words. ]

Why are you doing this, you know why! [ Her voice cracks and her hands tremble in his grasp. She looks at him in utter confusion. It's been all she's been thinking about, after all. ] I'm— I'm a freak, why— why are you asking that when you know that I'm a psycho murderer?!

[ These...just aren't the words she ever wanted to really say. ]

Edited 2021-04-11 20:39 (UTC)

[The outburst is surprising enough that Giorno lets go of her wrists, his hands coming up in self-defense, as though she's pointing a knife at him. The look on his face is easy to read this time: genuine shock. Processing her words is gratingly difficult, trying to drive on gravel with square wheels, because the cause and effect is barely comprehensible. She's a psycho murderer. She killed people. She's putting distance between them. She's a murderer. She killed people. She's p—]

[Wait. Waitwaitwait.]

Are you telling me you're icing me out because you killed people?

[ARE YOU SERIOUS, RILEY WILLIAMS.]

Yes!!

[ ...Wait. Just as urgent but like half as shrill: ] I'm not icing you out, Giorno, god! You didn't want to talk to me either, remember?

Yes you are!

[He wants to scream. Covering his face with both hands, he lets out a stream of words that are both crisply furious and completely incomprehensible. If this stupid peninsula had taken away his ability to swear properly he'd have lost his mind months ago. Taking the Madonna's name in vain is the only thing that hasn't betrayed him.]

[Christ. He lets his hands fall to his sides, but only for a second, because they start moving a lot as he speaks.]

I never said I didn't want to talk to you. You decided that. We used to talk all the time, and then after the museum you just weren't around, and it just kept getting worse. I thought you needed space or something because you were acting bizarre, but I wasn't avoiding you. You're the one who hasn't met my eye in a month!

Do you even listen? Killing people is what I do! If you'd taken a few steps forward in the museum you'd have seen it. You think I'm, what, disgusted by what you did? I don't know the whole story, I don't understand it, but you're the one who decided I didn't want anything to do with you because of it. Not me.

Edited 2021-04-11 22:57 (UTC)

[ It's like getting splashed with a bucket of water. A cold wake up. Riley's stunned, but she won't— she doesn't want to believe it. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she shakes her head, trying to hold on to way she's understood the last two months. ]

No, I... That's not what— [ Another shake, a little desperate. ] What was I supposed to think, after...you were so— you were sure I'd hate you.

[ Her halfhearted attempt to turn it back around ends up sapping the fire in her. Dodged calls. Months left on read. Turning away, and... ]

And...after the... I didn't— I couldn't...with anyone, so...

[ It's true, what he's saying. Even now, she's watching his hands instead of his face, drawn to the movement, or—or using that as an excuse to hide. ]

So...I just... 'Cause I'd...I'd already...ruined it, so...

[ Her voice grows softer and softer as little disconnected explanations pour out. She lets her claws fall to her side. ]

[She's right. He had been sure she'd hate him. But it wasn't only that. He'd felt vivisected, cut from his gut to his throat and splayed open; he'd seen the one person he most wants to hurt with their feet in the squishy red carpet of all his darkest secrets. Raw and brutalized, he stumbled upon her with his back to the wall and his hackles already up, and just like that . . .]

[She never really stopped panicking after that moment. He's starting to see that now. What's less clear is how he can stop it from happening again. Because he's not better than that. He's only as good as his worst moments, when the names of his dead friends are thrown in his face and he digs fangs deep enough into the world to draw blood and rend muscle. He will always, always defend himself. It's so far past a reflex. It's a compulsion.]

[So how does he get ahead of this? His hands draw back as her words trail off, one curling protectively against his collarbone, the other wrapping around the wrist of the first, a weak link of organic chainmail.]

Just because I thought you'd hate me doesn't mean anything about how I feel towards you. I'm . . . [He doesn't know how to put it, shakes his head.] It feels different. It felt different, then. Inevitable. But I wasn't thinking clearly. I was too upset.

[Somehow, it doesn't seem so dangerous now. Why is that? He's quiet for a moment, glancing at the way the sun reflects in the water. They're both day monsters, flashy and pretty, and very dangerous. It's complicated, what they are.]

[Haruno wasn't complicated. His mouth twitches at the corners, and he glances back at her.]

Now, though . . . you know my least favorite thing about myself. At least part of it. You might not even have figured it out from the exhibit.

[ Childishly, she somewhat spits out: ] I hate the exhibits.

[ It's an important first point of clarification. Hesitantly, she starts to bring her hands up, back to where she'd clawed open her own arms. She winces as she sets them back, in a hug instead. ]

...I never wanna look at them. At someone else's. I didn't wanna see any of that, and... I didn't want anyone else to see mine.

[ Can she try and look at him? Her lips press tightly together. She manages a glance, as she can feel her pulse pound in her throat. ]

I didn't wanna know anything like that. Not— ...not from...those things.

[Briefly, a fond smile flits across his features. Yes, he knows. Of course she does.]

I hate them, too. They're unnecessary and cruel. I think I just . . . [Hm. His fingertips press against his collarbone lightly, anchoring him to his body.] There are some things . . . that it does explain better than I think I would know how to.

[For a moment he's quiet, trying to figure out if that's really true. If he tried, could he figure out a way? It sounds exhausting. More than that, he thinks he'd give up halfway through. Does it help or hurt to know she's already got the key to the lock so few people even know exists?]

I'm not talking about the museum right now, though, Riley. Do you know what I'm talking about?

[ Her talons dig at the ground without her even realizing it. New nervous habit. This is, somehow, better than continuing on as things had been. But, at the same time, she wants to fly away. ]

...That day. What those things said.

[He doesn't know why. He couldn't explain it. But somehow, for whatever reason, that answer makes his heart ache with love for her. She doesn't see it at all. She doesn't get it. The things she saw of him . . . somehow weren't the ugly parts. She sees the good in people, no matter how pathetic they are, and still she hates herself so much.]

No.

[Shaking his head, his claws curl in the hem of his collar. Nervous, somewhere under it all, despite everything. Because he never has before. Because he doesn't want to. Because, because, because.]

I'm talking about Haruno.

[ And it completely throws her for a loop. Riley looks at him, utterly confused. ]

What? But...lots of people had...different names there. First and last, what would— ...You were just...a sweet, normal guy.

[Right. Yes, he was right before. The exhibit wouldn't help him to explain this. This is on him. He's the only one with the answer. So he could stop right now.]

[Breathing in slow, he doesn't.]

That's why I don't like that place. Because it lied about him. Haruno was a real person once, but he wasn't like that. He didn't have that life. Any of that.

[Someone to make lunches for him. To dry his tears when he cried. To teach him things he needed to know. To just be there, to just exist near him. To just be. To prove his worth by their presence. To look at him with hands lowered, smiles on.]

[His expression is glassy, though not with tears; head tilted to one side like he's observing something. Her, but not. The space just past her shoulder, to see if her shadow reacts strangely.]

Haruno was mostly pretty pathetic, Riley. That's why I didn't want anyone to know about him. Up until this whole . . . [Grimacing, he gestures faintly, unable to come up with the right word for everything that just happened.] Nobody did.

[ And all of a sudden, against all odds, she gets it. She's able to see just far enough beyond herself to see...well, herself—feelings she's well aware of. She sees them in Giorno's eyes, in their distance.

Faintly, Riley realizes: ] That...wasn't just a fake name that world gave you. Was... Did you used to...look like that, too?

Edited 2021-04-12 06:06 (UTC)

[Something tight releases in his chest, something he didn't know was clenched around his heart. He breathes in, out again, and nods. Hears his own heartbeat in his ears, hears the breeze around them, feels the earth beneath his roots. These are all real things. Haruno was real once, but isn't anymore. It's not dangerous to talk about this. It's not.]

I'm not that . . . I mean. Not much changed. Not really. [With a rueful quirk of a smile, he frames his face with his fingers, voguing to cut off the only thing that really changed. Hair texture and color do a lot to change the lens through which people perceive. It was so simple to become a different person, with the opportunity dropped in his weak and waiting hands.] What did change was genetic. Complicated. I didn't decide to do that part. It was more . . .

[The reluctance with which he looks back at her is palpable, but he does it. Shrugs faintly.]

He was just tired. I think he'd always been tired. He didn't want to be anymore [not to be tired but to be, to exist, to feel, no more verbs, no more anything, he was so tired so broken so sad—] so I let him go.

Edited 2021-04-12 06:29 (UTC)

[ Genetic. That part Riley doesn't understand, and it shows on her face. For perhaps the first time, she's struck still with the question of what she knows about Giorno. Sure, there was that wonder—that fear—when they first met, but this is different, it's just...curiosity. Wonder for her friend. Everything that was replaced with her fear and panic. ]

Let...him go? Giorno, what...does that mean? He was... Haruno was...

[ ...like that little girl afraid of everything. Like the crying, stuttering child who couldn't stand up for herself, who needed someone else to give her that strength. That girl who wasn't good at anything, who couldn't even get her parents to look at her.

Riley trails off. She doesn't understand some of this. But that, that, she— ]

...You...didn't want...to be him anymore. So, you just...aren't.

[The temptation, when he sees the confusion written across Riley's face, is to dive headfirst into an explanation of the logistics. Which is absurd. He would genuinely prefer to discuss the stolen body of the murdered progenitor of a lineage of beefcakes that somehow managed to obliquely and accidentally produce him than keep talking about this. He only barely manages to course-correct, to let her speak. Process. Take step after cautious step forward.]

[She's going in the right direction, at least. By now, he doesn't have to lead her much at all.]

Do you know what Giorno means? It means "day". To say good morning in Italian, you say buon giorno. It's not really a given name at all. Giovanna isn't a surname; it's a girl's given name. I wanted to be something [the briefest hesitation, and then he smiles, one of his real ones, albeit small and tired] bright and beautiful. Because I had the opportunity to become something better. To make my dreams a reality.

[This time, it's less a hesitation and more a pause. He's trying to decide if he wants to say the next part. It's not something Riley has the key for yet. Giving it to her is entirely his choice.]

. . . Before, I looked a lot like my mother, but afterwards I closely resembled my father. My real father, I mean. That made it easier, too, to separate myself. I didn't want to look back.

[. . .]

Does it make any sense? Or do you think I'm crazy?

[ Riley wonders if, perhaps, she'd had another name in that other world, if they would feel more separate. She wonders if like Erdianus and Steve her whole name had been a fabrication, if she'd have an easier time differentiating.

No, she decides, in a rare moment of clarity. She...probably wouldn't. But the thought still comes to mind, as soon as Giorno explains. ]

No. I mean— yes, it...it makes sense. I think... [ The logic follows. Even in just petitioning for a name change for the Tigers, she— ] I...understand what you mean.

[ Riley wanted to cast off the unlovable little girl she'd been. She failed. Giorno, however, sounds like he succeeded in taking the parts of himself he didn't like and cutting them away. In that way...she envies him. She honestly regards him with a degree of wonder. ]

I don't...think you're crazy.

[She tells him she doesn't think he's crazy. Somehow, despite himself, he believes her. It goes against every rule about the world that he's come to understand. Whatever she's done, Riley came from a different world than the one he or Narancia or Bruno did. By rights there should be an unbridgeable gap between them. She should pull away from him after this.]

[But then, she already was pulling away because she thought the same thing about him. That he couldn't understand, that he would never give her a chance to say her piece, that he would never forgive her. That he would think her as unworthy of forgiveness as she considers herself.]

[They're really too similar. This time he smiles like a sunrise, one of the easy slow smiles that were fairly common for Haruno, a serious boy who didn't take himself very seriously. The difference isn't as great as he wants it to be.]

Thank you. I really didn't expect anyone to . . . [He wavers, unsure how to explain what a blow it would be to present the reality of this fragment of his past to someone and have them disregard it, crumple it up and throw it over their shoulder dismissively. It would do a lot more damage than he has words for.]

[In the end, he shakes his head.] Just, thank you. That's all.

I don't think you're crazy, either. For what that's worth.

[ For a moment, his smile actually reassures her. The strange, horrible atmosphere that's been over them—that she put over them—lifts, and Riley feels like she actually has her friend back.

And then she flinches away, as something tightly squeezing her heart. Tears prick at her eyes, and she swallows them down. ]

That's...really nice of you, but... I don't really think I can agree.

RYSLIG; ic inbox

cw: unintentional self-harm, untreated mental illness, internalized ableism

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cw: cannibalism mentions, body horror

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cw: internalized ableism

cw internalized ableism 1/3

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fin.

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cw gory imagery

cw: self-harm mentions

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cw dissociation, child abuse/neglect

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cw depression, suicidal ideation

cw: parental neglect

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cw: intrusive thoughts

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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, CHEERYCHERRY. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 019.46.820.17 * CHEERYCHERRY has joined 019.46.820.17 <CHEERYCHERRY> It's Riley! <CHEERYCHERRY> Please leave a message! <CHEERYCHERRY>** Please be someone with their priorities sorted out properly!