[Here exists one of those instances where the gulf of differences separating them lean together and converge, creating something akin to shared experience. Because all of this-- it's too much for Giovanni. The bright unnatural lantern lights leave him feeling uneasy and on edge as there's nothing about the way they function that is recognisable to him. The deep plunge of the city into darkness that comes as night falls down upon it is usually a small relief for him, the clustering shadows and obscuration of the wide empty blue sky is enough to make him almost (almost) feel more at home, the relative quiet of the nighttime streets a balm for ragged nerves.
Not so when the city is lit up bright as an explosion, when the streets are thronging with too many bodies pushing in too close.
And so he does his best to slip around the backstreets and winding alleyways, to evade the worst of the brightness, the push and pull of vapid human life. It's what brings him here, down along this particular side alley at this particular moment in time, for once their oncoming rendezvous not something he's sought, or planned.
Hence the lack of any attempt to hide his approach as he ducks into the relative darkness and keeps moving, eyes down and expression fixed into something smooth and blank and cold that hides the fierce clatter of jangled nerves underneath. He looks up though, on hearing the familiar voice. And just like that he slips on the mask, lips curving in a carved-pumpkin smile.]
Come, now. Having a guess would have been much more fun.
a.
Not so when the city is lit up bright as an explosion, when the streets are thronging with too many bodies pushing in too close.
And so he does his best to slip around the backstreets and winding alleyways, to evade the worst of the brightness, the push and pull of vapid human life. It's what brings him here, down along this particular side alley at this particular moment in time, for once their oncoming rendezvous not something he's sought, or planned.
Hence the lack of any attempt to hide his approach as he ducks into the relative darkness and keeps moving, eyes down and expression fixed into something smooth and blank and cold that hides the fierce clatter of jangled nerves underneath. He looks up though, on hearing the familiar voice. And just like that he slips on the mask, lips curving in a carved-pumpkin smile.]
Come, now. Having a guess would have been much more fun.
[As though he intended this all along.]