Alberto "oh no" Scorfano (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
prontissimo) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kaisou2022-03-01 06:14 pm
prontissimo) wrote in kaisou2022-03-01 06:14 pm
action + text; open
WHO: Alberto e tu!
WHERE: Around town + network
WHEN: 1 March
WHAT: debut of a very smad Alberto "oh no" Scorfano...
WARNINGS: none. preteen abandonment issues?
🌊 a. arrival
[ A nightmare. That's surely what's happening. It's taken Alberto hours to come to that conclusion, but that's the only sensible explanation, and Alberto's not typically the type to err on the side of sensibility. He's dreaming that he's on his island again.
And again.
And again...
Every turn he takes, no matter if he leaps off the cliff, dives into the ocean, slips into the sea from the smooth-pebbled beach, or just runs around aimlessly... it lands him in the center of the wilderness of his small, uninhabited island — a place he's called home most of his short life, regardless of how much weight the word "home" carries, for better or worse. He's tried desperately to return to his new home with his boss at the pescheria, Massimo, in Portorosso, but even though the human town is just a couple miles off shore from his own private island... it's ever farther away, with every attempt to escape. He's trapped. Again. He's alone. Again...
And that's the real kicker. No one's gonna come save him from this labyrinth. No one can get in. He's not sure he can get out. This is just... his life now. Just like it was before. After hours of futile attempts to swim away, he's inevitably spat out by the sea, left ashore alone and angry. So after hours of wandering in what should be a perfectly familiar expanse of nature and nothingness that he typically knows like the back of his hand, but now has strange new paths he's not sure how to navigate, he keeps finding himself lost, arriving back in the same spot, or somewhere new, maybe leaping from one side of the tiny island to another with a single turn... Even for someone a bit saner than this strange child, it'd drive a person mad.
So after a full day spent this way, he can tell the sky is growing dark, bizarre as it is that it's still red and cloudless and alight in a way he's never seen. Surely, he must be dreaming. Can there be another explanation? So, the most reluctantly he's ever done anything... he retires to his tower. It's destroyed. Just like he'd last seen it, after quitting the triathlon, betraying Luca, Luca betraying him... after Alberto ruining everything... but before he fixed it. The last thing he wants to do is string up the hammock in his dilapidated lighthouse again, but for all his confusion, despair, panic— what else can he do?
Maybe if he's dreaming this nightmare, the way to get out of it is to undream it, if he goes to sleep while he's asleep... Big brain stuff, eh?
But not. Like, at all. He can't sleep but for a few minutes at a time, after such a distressing day. And that awful voice in the back of his mind tells him this is how it's supposed to be, as "Bruno" steals the sleep from him...
You're supposed to be alone.
It was too good to be true.
Massimo's better off without you.
This is your life, Alberto...
Alone. Da solo. Solitario.
...So deal with it. Even if he never recognized that he was actually in a maze, the mental effects absolutely felt like one. After a few hours of his Bruno off-and-on whispering dark thoughts to him, he decided sleep would not help. Maybe stars would, though. At the very least... looking at the stars makes him think of Luca now. And bittersweet as it is, that's a helluva lot better than whatever Bruno had to say.
So, just as dawn is breaking in this weird red, cracked sky, Alberto ascends his staircase to reach the top of his lighthouse, ready to start a fire and spend yet another sleepless night by himself, hoping to catch the last cascade of stars across the changing sky before they disappear to light, dreaming, escaping, silencing his Bruno...
But instead finds himself—
somewhere else?
A city.
A big city.
He made it out of his labyrinth alone. He could only make it out of his labyrinth alone — that's the real challenge for a child who's spent a bulk of the past fourteen years in some kind of solitude, plus the past two years in absolute total isolation. There's nothing Alberto prizes more than a sense of capability... and whether or not he should believe his father, he does, and still firmly believes he's old enough to take care of himself.
But finding himself in the city of Kaisou, his only experience of a human town being a small fishing village on the Italian Riviera in the 1960s...? Well, this throws him entirely for a loop.
He barely skims the instruction manual for his cell phone, doesn't even make it past the first few pages, and, uh, fucking wings the rest of it. Like he always does with anything in life.
But he's definitely not dressed for this weather, walking around in a tank top and shorts, barefoot in the snow... The latter is the most problematic. So his first priority is to take shelter. He can't afford getting wet when he doesn't know where the hell he is... or what these humans here are like. The townspeople in Portorosso were hard enough to win over... and he has the scars to prove it. He's not taking any chances. Find him in town immediately after escaping his labyrinth, feeling some kind of way, stewing by himself, wandering very obviously hopelessly. Dai, Alberto, forza... ]
☕ b. buona fortuna e buon caffè;
[ His whole labyrinth experience has left him particularly grumpy, to put it lightly. There are some unseen sides to Alberto, behind the exaggerated but genuine charisma and whimsy, and the city of Kaisou has the unfortunate privilege of first meeting secret-smad Alberto. Bruno got the better of him in that labyrinth, and that pestering voice hasn't quite let up yet.
Find the child in a convenience store, the first place he finds, arguing loudly with the attendant at the counter. ]
I— told— you! I'll pay you back, okay?! I just want espresso! Es-pres-so!
[ The attendant retorts hotly, "Kid, I know what espresso is, but we don't sell espresso, and even if we did, you need money!" But Alberto just groans exasperatedly, dragging his hands down his face with some theatrics. He's... clearly having a rough time of it. Help a kid out? Or... not? He's gotta learn how the world works, after all. He was a big fish in a small pond, and now he's a little fish in a big sea... He doesn't even know what "North America" is, man. Kid was educated by a single narcissist with very weak commitment to his only son's betterment, even at the basic level. Alberto's wit is owed to his own merit. Kid still writes his Ǝ's backwards, though. The fuck does he know about the world? He ain't even got shoes... and winter here is quite unlike winter in Liguria. Just to see the child is disconcerting, let alone tune into the increasingly aggressive public problem he's instigating. ]
🛵 c. text; un: signorvespa
ciao a tutti
dont know how this Everrything Machine works
BUT
looking for massimo marcovaldo
bushy mustacehe and eyebrows
one arm
probly the biggest human ever?
mean cat macchiavelli
also has a mustache
but a cat mustache!
also looking for luca paguro
short with brownhair round face big brown eyes fishface
NICE GUY
and i guess giulia marcovaldo
red curly hair wtih lots to say HA
anyone seen thees people? and/or cat???
ciao
alberto scorfano
[ He attaches a couple photos of photos: he received a color photograph of Massimo, Machiavelli, and himself, as well as a black-and-white photograph of Luca, Giulia and her mamma. For someone who's scarcely used even his own 1960's technology... Alberto's getting the hang of the cell phone pretty quick. Even if he's... determinedly calling it an "Everything Machine." Education and intelligence have little to do with each other, at the end of the day, okay. ]
WHERE: Around town + network
WHEN: 1 March
WHAT: debut of a very smad Alberto "oh no" Scorfano...
WARNINGS: none. preteen abandonment issues?
🌊 a. arrival
[ A nightmare. That's surely what's happening. It's taken Alberto hours to come to that conclusion, but that's the only sensible explanation, and Alberto's not typically the type to err on the side of sensibility. He's dreaming that he's on his island again.
And again.
And again...
Every turn he takes, no matter if he leaps off the cliff, dives into the ocean, slips into the sea from the smooth-pebbled beach, or just runs around aimlessly... it lands him in the center of the wilderness of his small, uninhabited island — a place he's called home most of his short life, regardless of how much weight the word "home" carries, for better or worse. He's tried desperately to return to his new home with his boss at the pescheria, Massimo, in Portorosso, but even though the human town is just a couple miles off shore from his own private island... it's ever farther away, with every attempt to escape. He's trapped. Again. He's alone. Again...
And that's the real kicker. No one's gonna come save him from this labyrinth. No one can get in. He's not sure he can get out. This is just... his life now. Just like it was before. After hours of futile attempts to swim away, he's inevitably spat out by the sea, left ashore alone and angry. So after hours of wandering in what should be a perfectly familiar expanse of nature and nothingness that he typically knows like the back of his hand, but now has strange new paths he's not sure how to navigate, he keeps finding himself lost, arriving back in the same spot, or somewhere new, maybe leaping from one side of the tiny island to another with a single turn... Even for someone a bit saner than this strange child, it'd drive a person mad.
So after a full day spent this way, he can tell the sky is growing dark, bizarre as it is that it's still red and cloudless and alight in a way he's never seen. Surely, he must be dreaming. Can there be another explanation? So, the most reluctantly he's ever done anything... he retires to his tower. It's destroyed. Just like he'd last seen it, after quitting the triathlon, betraying Luca, Luca betraying him... after Alberto ruining everything... but before he fixed it. The last thing he wants to do is string up the hammock in his dilapidated lighthouse again, but for all his confusion, despair, panic— what else can he do?
Maybe if he's dreaming this nightmare, the way to get out of it is to undream it, if he goes to sleep while he's asleep... Big brain stuff, eh?
But not. Like, at all. He can't sleep but for a few minutes at a time, after such a distressing day. And that awful voice in the back of his mind tells him this is how it's supposed to be, as "Bruno" steals the sleep from him...
You're supposed to be alone.
It was too good to be true.
Massimo's better off without you.
This is your life, Alberto...
Alone. Da solo. Solitario.
...So deal with it. Even if he never recognized that he was actually in a maze, the mental effects absolutely felt like one. After a few hours of his Bruno off-and-on whispering dark thoughts to him, he decided sleep would not help. Maybe stars would, though. At the very least... looking at the stars makes him think of Luca now. And bittersweet as it is, that's a helluva lot better than whatever Bruno had to say.
So, just as dawn is breaking in this weird red, cracked sky, Alberto ascends his staircase to reach the top of his lighthouse, ready to start a fire and spend yet another sleepless night by himself, hoping to catch the last cascade of stars across the changing sky before they disappear to light, dreaming, escaping, silencing his Bruno...
But instead finds himself—
somewhere else?
A city.
A big city.
He made it out of his labyrinth alone. He could only make it out of his labyrinth alone — that's the real challenge for a child who's spent a bulk of the past fourteen years in some kind of solitude, plus the past two years in absolute total isolation. There's nothing Alberto prizes more than a sense of capability... and whether or not he should believe his father, he does, and still firmly believes he's old enough to take care of himself.
But finding himself in the city of Kaisou, his only experience of a human town being a small fishing village on the Italian Riviera in the 1960s...? Well, this throws him entirely for a loop.
He barely skims the instruction manual for his cell phone, doesn't even make it past the first few pages, and, uh, fucking wings the rest of it. Like he always does with anything in life.
But he's definitely not dressed for this weather, walking around in a tank top and shorts, barefoot in the snow... The latter is the most problematic. So his first priority is to take shelter. He can't afford getting wet when he doesn't know where the hell he is... or what these humans here are like. The townspeople in Portorosso were hard enough to win over... and he has the scars to prove it. He's not taking any chances. Find him in town immediately after escaping his labyrinth, feeling some kind of way, stewing by himself, wandering very obviously hopelessly. Dai, Alberto, forza... ]
☕ b. buona fortuna e buon caffè;
[ His whole labyrinth experience has left him particularly grumpy, to put it lightly. There are some unseen sides to Alberto, behind the exaggerated but genuine charisma and whimsy, and the city of Kaisou has the unfortunate privilege of first meeting secret-smad Alberto. Bruno got the better of him in that labyrinth, and that pestering voice hasn't quite let up yet.
Find the child in a convenience store, the first place he finds, arguing loudly with the attendant at the counter. ]
I— told— you! I'll pay you back, okay?! I just want espresso! Es-pres-so!
[ The attendant retorts hotly, "Kid, I know what espresso is, but we don't sell espresso, and even if we did, you need money!" But Alberto just groans exasperatedly, dragging his hands down his face with some theatrics. He's... clearly having a rough time of it. Help a kid out? Or... not? He's gotta learn how the world works, after all. He was a big fish in a small pond, and now he's a little fish in a big sea... He doesn't even know what "North America" is, man. Kid was educated by a single narcissist with very weak commitment to his only son's betterment, even at the basic level. Alberto's wit is owed to his own merit. Kid still writes his Ǝ's backwards, though. The fuck does he know about the world? He ain't even got shoes... and winter here is quite unlike winter in Liguria. Just to see the child is disconcerting, let alone tune into the increasingly aggressive public problem he's instigating. ]
🛵 c. text; un: signorvespa
ciao a tutti
dont know how this Everrything Machine works
BUT
looking for massimo marcovaldo
bushy mustacehe and eyebrows
one arm
probly the biggest human ever?
mean cat macchiavelli
also has a mustache
but a cat mustache!
also looking for luca paguro
short with brownhair round face big brown eyes fishface
NICE GUY
and i guess giulia marcovaldo
red curly hair wtih lots to say HA
anyone seen thees people? and/or cat???
ciao
alberto scorfano
[ He attaches a couple photos of photos: he received a color photograph of Massimo, Machiavelli, and himself, as well as a black-and-white photograph of Luca, Giulia and her mamma. For someone who's scarcely used even his own 1960's technology... Alberto's getting the hang of the cell phone pretty quick. Even if he's... determinedly calling it an "Everything Machine." Education and intelligence have little to do with each other, at the end of the day, okay. ]
no subject
[ Thems fightin words ]
no subject
[ it's just that he only sees eyebrows... not that there's anything wrong with prominent eyebrows, of course. ]
haven't seen any of them, but i can keep an eye out
have you never used a phone before?
no subject
not this
called my friend in a city faraway
but it cost money so we couldnt do it often
and it couldnt write, we had to mail a letter int eh post to write like this, took soooooooooo long......
didnt get to talk long on the phone becaus it was too expensive
this is not a phone
its somehing else
a magic everything machine
[ He says with an air of expertise, even over text... ]
no subject
a kid who's pretty obviously not from around here, where "here" is both place and time. he sure seems chill about it, though. interesting. ]
you know what, you're right
it is an everything machine
i can't remember the last time i used this thing to actually call someone
[ whiiich might also be because he has like two friends, but whatever. details. ]
no subject
But this is an important detail that's been dropped, considering... Alberto barely skimmed the instruction manual beyond the first couple of sentences explaining "Libra." He didn't get into the section explaining cell phones... Too much reading. He's tired. But even if he weren't— yeah, still too much reading.
He sharpens way up, though, at reading this text. ]
it calls? like a real phone?
i know it has a camera, it has a phone too!?
how much does it cost to make a call? can it make a call to Genova?
god i'm so slow forgive me
it can make a call anywhere you want
international calls cost more but that'll be whoever's footing the phone bill's problem
No worries at all!!
itd be me
My ptoblem.
But if i save up enough money I CAN call Genova on this thing?
My friend’s mom probbly doesnt have one of these machines tho. just a telefone. will it still work? Or can it only call other Everything Machines?
no subject
yes and yes
everything machines are compatible with everything
they're pretty handy like that
[ oookay, and with that out of the way... ]
so you're just on your own here?
no subject
yeah its fine tho i know what im doing i just wanna reach luca and massimo so they knww im ok
[ Just glooosssssssing right over that concern about him being on his own, though. He's never been on his own in society. Being all alone, all alone, was easy in its own way, and being in society under Massimo's wing was easy in another, but he can already tell that people here are gonna raise their eyebrows at him living on his own because of his age. That's gonna get annoying quick. ]