[At first, Fugo doesn’t entirely understand what Trish means by that gesture. Why is she patting her comforter? It’s not until she shoots him an expectant look that it clicks. Oh. He’s supposed to sit beside her, while they talk. Because they’re going to continue to talk, apparently. About … Stands.
Fugo is stiff and a little awkward when he comes to sit next to Trish. Part of it is simply his limb situation; it’s a trial for him just to navigate normal living spaces, even if they’re large enough to accommodate larger Monsters. But his legs pull in close when he comes to sit, then twist around to settle largely behind him. His arms, too, fold over his chest. Without even thinking about it, he’s on the defensive.]
Whatever pretended to be Purple Haze this summer wasn’t entirely accurate. It never intentionally attacked me.
[He pauses, lips pressed together in a thin line, as he weighs how much he ought to tell Trish. He doesn’t like discussing it but, at the same time, knows he has no good reason to deny her. “I don’t want to” feels like such a shallow reason, especially for something that no longer exists.]
But I wasn’t immune to its ability. And I couldn’t control it, either. It had a mind of its own. [He sighs, bitterly, then rolls his eyes.] Not that it ever tried to think. That thing was a complete moron.
[She almost wonders if Fugo is going to change his mind and leave now that they've confirmed she doesn't have bugs, just the unfortunate happenstance of DNA expressing itself more vibrantly than ever before, but he eventually moves to join her.
Except he's closed off as always, even in posture, and she understands it.
He was petrified of his own Stand at a younger age than he is now, so even if that facsimile wasn't right, it wasn't entirely wrong, either. And Fugo always seemed to control everything about himself as tightly as he could, so to have a Stand that acted independently of him, and to act contrary to his wishes at that, must've been as maddening as it was terrifying. But to hear him complain about it like it was a big, dangerous dumb animal and not his very soul says a lot more about Fugo than it does about his Stand.
Trish is silent for a stretch, drumming her claws on her comforter.]
...It doesn't sound like you at all, does it? If it was so thoughtless you were worried it would act to the detriment of everyone around it.
[Unconscionable creature.]
But I wonder. It's not often Stands act independently, so I have to assume there was a reason for it. Spice Girl also acted independent of me, and it was a good thing, because she didn't panic like I did.
[If Purple Haze was so dangerous...would it struggle with itself if it knew that much about itself? Why not make it a Stand that could act only by orders alone, like Sticky Fingers seemed to?
[Firmly:] No. It's exactly like "me". Purple Haze is a part of myself.
[As much as he hates it, as much as he resents it, as much as he was and is afraid of it-- Purple Haze always was just him.]
I don't know why some Stands are more independent than others, beyond that it's more typical for long range and automatic Stands and less so for close range Stands. It probably has something to do with the users. [He pauses, chewing it over, before continuing.] I don't know what the others have told you about Stands, or anything about yours. But Stands and their abilities are, with very few exceptions, reflections of their users.
[He shifts to look at her. Fugo's stare is often intent. This afternoon, it's steely and unflinching. To Fugo, Spice Girl's calm in the face of Trish's own panic is, more or less, reflective of Trish's determination to survive. He might not like what Purple Haze reflects of him, but there's no point in denying it.]
A Stand is a representation of someone's soul, but Fugo presents the corollary that it merely represents what is either a large or crucial part of that soul. Though, she has to wonder about that, because the way he talks about Purple Haze and the way she sees him are entirely at odds with one another.
She can't reconcile it. But she can only go off what Fugo tells her.
Trish meets his gaze, the hardness of his red eyes, and her lips press into a thin pink line.]
...There hasn't been any cause to talk about Stands, especially here, so I know about as much as I did before I met all of you.
[Spice Girl's ability could say any number of things about her, for example, and they may or may not be true. Does it mean anything as well that her Stand was not awakened by an Arrow? How can they be sure of anything ascribed to something as nebulous as a Stand ability?
That being said...]
But if what you're saying is true, then have you considered you might yourself be an exception? You're certainly not a "moron".
If there is anything you want to know, I'll do my best to explain. [He shrugs.] Stands might not be as relevant here, but you deserve to know.
[Trish is one of them. If she wants to know more about the power that the Fog stole from her, there's no reason to keep it from her.]
No. I'm not an exception. [He sighs, a little reluctant, before pushing through.] I'm not a moron, but-- ... when I really lose my temper, I don't see anything except what's in front of me. I can't stop.
[When he loses his temper, he stabs friends with silverware. He beats teachers with dictionaries. He throws himself at nightmares with nothing but a broken table leg, slamming it down over and over again until it's a bloody mess on the floor.]
trish started out feeling bad but now she can worry about him instead. success???
Bucciarati actually humored my questions not too long after he arrived, but what he knew began and ended with the Arrow. Oh, and what Polnareff told us. I actually found that all very unenlightening. When I asked Spice Girl herself about everything I could think of, she said...
[Trish suddenly straightens up, taking on a steady but nearly robotic cadence, her tail going limp too, as if to really emphasize her personality being sapped away.]
"I don't understand these questions. I am you. That is all you need to know."
[Followed by Trish very maturely sticking her tongue out between her fangs.
Badmouthing her Stand seems to be her attempt at showing Fugo that maybe he can badmouth his own Stand too if he must, but...]
What I'm trying to say is, Purple Haze is a truth, but not the truth. I don't think you're nearly as animalistic as you claim your Stand to be.
[Her tail goes back to flicking back and forth.]
I can be afraid, and Spice Girl won't be. You can regret losing your temper, and Purple Haze won't care.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cw: ableist language
Fugo is stiff and a little awkward when he comes to sit next to Trish. Part of it is simply his limb situation; it’s a trial for him just to navigate normal living spaces, even if they’re large enough to accommodate larger Monsters. But his legs pull in close when he comes to sit, then twist around to settle largely behind him. His arms, too, fold over his chest. Without even thinking about it, he’s on the defensive.]
Whatever pretended to be Purple Haze this summer wasn’t entirely accurate. It never intentionally attacked me.
[He pauses, lips pressed together in a thin line, as he weighs how much he ought to tell Trish. He doesn’t like discussing it but, at the same time, knows he has no good reason to deny her. “I don’t want to” feels like such a shallow reason, especially for something that no longer exists.]
But I wasn’t immune to its ability. And I couldn’t control it, either. It had a mind of its own. [He sighs, bitterly, then rolls his eyes.] Not that it ever tried to think. That thing was a complete moron.
no subject
Except he's closed off as always, even in posture, and she understands it.
He was petrified of his own Stand at a younger age than he is now, so even if that facsimile wasn't right, it wasn't entirely wrong, either. And Fugo always seemed to control everything about himself as tightly as he could, so to have a Stand that acted independently of him, and to act contrary to his wishes at that, must've been as maddening as it was terrifying. But to hear him complain about it like it was a big, dangerous dumb animal and not his very soul says a lot more about Fugo than it does about his Stand.
Trish is silent for a stretch, drumming her claws on her comforter.]
...It doesn't sound like you at all, does it? If it was so thoughtless you were worried it would act to the detriment of everyone around it.
[Unconscionable creature.]
But I wonder. It's not often Stands act independently, so I have to assume there was a reason for it. Spice Girl also acted independent of me, and it was a good thing, because she didn't panic like I did.
[If Purple Haze was so dangerous...would it struggle with itself if it knew that much about itself? Why not make it a Stand that could act only by orders alone, like Sticky Fingers seemed to?
It's curious.]
no subject
[As much as he hates it, as much as he resents it, as much as he was and is afraid of it-- Purple Haze always was just him.]
I don't know why some Stands are more independent than others, beyond that it's more typical for long range and automatic Stands and less so for close range Stands. It probably has something to do with the users. [He pauses, chewing it over, before continuing.] I don't know what the others have told you about Stands, or anything about yours. But Stands and their abilities are, with very few exceptions, reflections of their users.
[He shifts to look at her. Fugo's stare is often intent. This afternoon, it's steely and unflinching. To Fugo, Spice Girl's calm in the face of Trish's own panic is, more or less, reflective of Trish's determination to survive. He might not like what Purple Haze reflects of him, but there's no point in denying it.]
no subject
A Stand is a representation of someone's soul, but Fugo presents the corollary that it merely represents what is either a large or crucial part of that soul. Though, she has to wonder about that, because the way he talks about Purple Haze and the way she sees him are entirely at odds with one another.
She can't reconcile it. But she can only go off what Fugo tells her.
Trish meets his gaze, the hardness of his red eyes, and her lips press into a thin pink line.]
...There hasn't been any cause to talk about Stands, especially here, so I know about as much as I did before I met all of you.
[Spice Girl's ability could say any number of things about her, for example, and they may or may not be true. Does it mean anything as well that her Stand was not awakened by an Arrow? How can they be sure of anything ascribed to something as nebulous as a Stand ability?
That being said...]
But if what you're saying is true, then have you considered you might yourself be an exception? You're certainly not a "moron".
no subject
[Trish is one of them. If she wants to know more about the power that the Fog stole from her, there's no reason to keep it from her.]
No. I'm not an exception. [He sighs, a little reluctant, before pushing through.] I'm not a moron, but-- ... when I really lose my temper, I don't see anything except what's in front of me. I can't stop.
[When he loses his temper, he stabs friends with silverware. He beats teachers with dictionaries. He throws himself at nightmares with nothing but a broken table leg, slamming it down over and over again until it's a bloody mess on the floor.]
trish started out feeling bad but now she can worry about him instead. success???
[Trish suddenly straightens up, taking on a steady but nearly robotic cadence, her tail going limp too, as if to really emphasize her personality being sapped away.]
"I don't understand these questions. I am you. That is all you need to know."
[Followed by Trish very maturely sticking her tongue out between her fangs.
Badmouthing her Stand seems to be her attempt at showing Fugo that maybe he can badmouth his own Stand too if he must, but...]
What I'm trying to say is, Purple Haze is a truth, but not the truth. I don't think you're nearly as animalistic as you claim your Stand to be.
[Her tail goes back to flicking back and forth.]
I can be afraid, and Spice Girl won't be. You can regret losing your temper, and Purple Haze won't care.
That's why they're not wholly us.