#polterqueue

[dailymudad]

giorno: you know how my worst enemy was named literally the devil and your name is god

dio: are you trying to do a hook-up

giorno: not today satan

dio: i thought your enemy was satan

[dailymudad]

It’s 1 AM on a Sunday night and this boutique, home to every name brand fashion imaginable, has been silently and quietly broken into.

This is a quiet heist. No alarms are ringing. Only a few necessary lights are on. The doors to the changing room keep opening and closing. Dio tries on a suit jacket but frowns knowing there’s a chance he’ll rip through it despite the nice fit. It goes in his pile anyway. Giorno has a new pair of shoes, he likes staying close to a brand that uses ladybugs as their motif. Dio gives a small ‘heh’, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Be honest, boy. Is this a current-looking outfit?”

“Everything in here is current... they don’t make the kind of money they do selling out of fashion clothes.”

Several things are taken. Dio has a deep distaste of wearing jewelry with someone else’s logo on it, but a set of upper arm bangles feel nostalgic and he piles it in. “How did you know how to get in here?”

“Do you think I could afford these brands doing luggage hustling when I was fifteen? I have practice.”

[dailymudad]

Giorno’s care and consideration for his father does not change Dio, this is a simple fact. Dio will always be himself, created almost from birth in a solid identity that only learned new things over time to integrate within himself.

Therefore, anything within Dio-- from empathy to lack thereof-- was there from the start, or at least the earliest stage of his life.

It vexes him when he cares about Giorno in return. Because he’s sure he hasn’t changed, not in a specific way  and not enough to give up his lifestyle for him. But he sees golden hair hang over Giorno’s shoulder and sees not only himself, but his mother, too. He hears how soft and reasonable and cunning he is, and he remembers how his mother worked her way around Dario and the tough streets of London in order to survive and provide for Dio especially.

‘Everything that makes him up was there from the beginning.’

Dio considers briefly if this means the only love he’s ever been able to have was for family-- for people who gave their blood to him, for those he gave his own to.

(fuck dario, though. his meager feelings capacity is for one relative at a time.)

[dailymudad]

Giorno makes gingerbread cookies of every Jojo, to later find Jonathan’s head has been bitten off and the rest of the cookie lay mysteriously untouched.

[dailymudad]

dio: oh, flowers? you shouldn't have

giorno: i made them out of all the belt buckles and jewelry with your name on them so they could actually become something beautiful

dio, through his teeth: great

[dailymudad]

Immortals in the year 3016.

Dio’s gotten a few of his things replaced, but mostly beneath his skin. Stayed awake during his surgeries as they put in a knee that wouldn’t break. Upgrades never hurt, and even though his organic body is precious because it can heal infinitely, there’s no harm in playing with a few new gadgets. He can stop time for hours now, and the world might as well be his, if not for his son’s constant erosion, a manual voice of reason suggesting to him that letting humanity flourish creates more for him to take part in.

Still, he owns enough shares of all the important businesses to own them. He  can influence just about everyone that he pleases.

Giorno is still organic. Still looks as young as twenty years, complains about a crick in his back that Dio rebuffs is purely psychosomatic. He’s beautiful in a different way these days, a thousand years of keeping up with fashion has done that to him. He looks almost classical, if 28th century fashion is classical.

Dio’s a little better. Giorno is a little worse, but has gone off the deep end a few times by now, but always came back because if he’s not here– who will have sway over his father?

[dailymudad]

Haruno wearing a shirt that says “DIO made this”

on the back it says, in smaller print, “If you talk to my son I’ll be on you like a cheetah on some worthless gazelle, don’t you test me and don’t talk to my child”

[dailymudad]

Dio’s insisting on Giorno finishing school, though.

Because look. You have to have common sense and basic worldly studies to be a mob boss. Giorno says fuck that-- he can’t be moonlighting at a local private school as a student for a variety of reasons. As a compromise, Dio promises to tutor him in his off hours. No homework or essays, just education.

So at night, during times he demands he isn’t interrupted, Giorno sits quietly in Dio’s study as he teaches him a strict and expansive curriculum. Geography and maths, art and history from a first-person perspective of someone who lived through it up until he was shut in a box.

Sometimes, Giorno tells him how things panned out that Dio only knows vague approximations of. What theories have been disproven. Other times, Giorno sits in fascination to hear what the world was like through a mostly unbiased eye.

(To have Giorno as an enthralled student makes Dio happy in a very odd way. A mix of pride and a feeling that’s not quite control but is a little close.)