[Giovanni shrugs, the action knifey and and sharp and full of precise indifference.]
I don't know. And nor do I especially care. It has little to do with me.
[Which is how he sees most things, when one cuts to the heart of it. His world is tight and dark and small and perhaps the physical place has been obliterated by the storm, but even now he still exists within its boundaries. Caught tight in Mother's six-fingered grasp. Outside of her ruthless embrace and the final reckoning with Heine that he's come to long for, little else truly penetrates, little else registers as real for him.]
no subject
I don't know. And nor do I especially care. It has little to do with me.
[Which is how he sees most things, when one cuts to the heart of it. His world is tight and dark and small and perhaps the physical place has been obliterated by the storm, but even now he still exists within its boundaries. Caught tight in Mother's six-fingered grasp. Outside of her ruthless embrace and the final reckoning with Heine that he's come to long for, little else truly penetrates, little else registers as real for him.]