Chapter Text

Stand Information

I do not own Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, it is owned by Hirohiko Araki. This is simply a Fanfiction and I do not own what it's original content was.

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Stand Information.

Name: [Distortion]

Appearance: [Distortion] is a more mysterious stand, it's body being a light grey with some dark ghostly mist surrounding it. [Distortion]'s "eyes" are ironically distorted, twisted and it's hard to see what they truly are. A T.V. type static flashes around where the eyes should be. It's mouth is a fine thin line, only displaying T.V. static when opened, both audibly and visibly. A dark black fog hovers through each of it's limbs, a partly transparent covering of the stand's body from the legs down. The further down the fog goes, the more visible the T.V. static embedded within the fog becomes. The stand sports plain black shoulder pads as well as elbow and knee pads with a thin white swirl starting from the middles of each. The stand is eerie, giving off vibes of uneasiness, restlessness, and anxiety.

Precision: C
Speed: C
Durability: B
Power: A
Potential: B
Range: A

Abilities:

Ability 1: [Distortion] has the ability to alter, manipulate and control the sight of their target in any way their user sees fit. This ability can cause: blurred vision, seeing things that aren't there, and messing up the target's vision in general.

Ability 2: Similar to the first listed ability, [Distortion] can alter, manipulate and control the hearing of their target in any way their user sees fit. This ability can cause: distorted hearing, hearing sounds that aren't there, and other effects within the same manner.

The abilities the [Distortion] have fall under the overall category of sense manipulation.

[Distortion] has a range of the user's eyesight. If the user can see the target from where they are standing, even if they are behind the user, the stand can influence them. Due to the wide range [Distortion] has, the stand's moving speed and physical attack precision aren't that strong. [Distortion] is used more for defence than it is attack or defend. [Distortion] need not to touch the target to influence them with it's abilities, the target simply needs to be within it's user's eyesight. Though touching the target is an option, it's not as useful since the reader has her eyesight.

Ex: User is standing in a room, if the target is visible if the user does a 360 degree turn while standing in one spot, they can be put under [Distortion]'s abilities. The second that the target hides behind a wall or something that can hide them and make it so the user wouldn't be able to see them, they become unaffected by the abilities.

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The user themselves can also use the ability on herself to enhance her own hearing or alter her vision, since she is able to see herself. The second she becomes unable to see herself (ex: her being blindfolded or losing her eyes/eyesight as a whole) she can no longer use the stand on herself, as the touch option doesn't work on the user.

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Chapter Text

Prologue

Midnight Mayhem

November 16, 2022

At the sound of banging on your bedroom door, your eyes twitched and you grimaced.

Slowly, you turned your head and turned to check the time; "3:00am"

It was three in the morning—why was he brutally knocking on your door? Couldn't whatever news he had wait until the sun was up? Or maybe he could've just texted you instead?

Muffled yelling came from the other side of the door, calls for your name and that you needed to get up now bounced off the door. He had assumed you'd been asleep. Which you weren't, of course. Who would be able to sleep when they were way more interested in scrolling through the depths of the internet?

Out of annoyance, you shut your phone off and dropped it down onto the bedside dresser that sat on the left side of your bed, pushing yourself up from said bed afterwards. Your brows furrowed as the yelling only got louder with every step you'd taken closer to the bedroom door.

Your hand hadn't even been on the doorknob for a second by the time you'd pulled the door open.

Locking eyes with your teammate, Vincent, your glaring and mildly confusion filled eyes poured into his frantic ones. You hadn't even had a chance to speak before he shouted at you,

"The Boss was killed!"

You froze, feeling the hairs on your arms rise within seconds as you stood there in shock. The boss was killed?

"He's dead! The boss is dead, [name]! God—I told Doppio- I emailed him like three times that we should've been sent out on the job. We could've taken care of this issue."

It was odd. You usually very good with words and yet in this moment, you couldn't find the right words to say.

"What?"

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Tea Time

November 16, 2022

"What do you mean the Boss is dead?"

Vincent groaned and put his head in his hands. With how hard he dropped his head onto the table, your were surprised he didn't hurt himself or spill his tea, which was placed only mere inches from where Vincent's head had dropped. "One of the smaller teams within Passione and their supposed new member was sent on a mission. They were supposed to keep the boss's daughter safe and bring her to him."

"Why didn't he just ask us to do that?" [name]'s brows furrowed, "We're who he goes to every time he needs something done that he doesn't want his Elite Guard to do or they just can't do. We do everything for him."

"I'm aware. This group is under the leadership of a man named Bruno Bucciarati, he runs the Protection team within Naples."

Vincent paused, huffing, "They went against the Boss after—from what I know—he tried to kill his own daughter."

"Harsh."

Vincent snickered at your mumbling, "I know." He lifted his head, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat, "After that-"

"Don't lean back in your chair." Interrupting him, you crossed your arms in a similar manner as him, "You could fall."

"Shhhshush, I wasn't done. After that, Doppio sent out those on the Elite Guard to 'take care' of the Protection team. You want to know what happened?" His voice became stern as he continued, "The Elite Guard is dead, all of them. Doppio said in an email he sent us after sending them on their missions that the boss didn't want to send us out because we'd end everything too quickly and that he wanted to be the one to get rid of his daughter.." Vincent leaned forward, his hands on the table. "You want to know what's worse? This lower ranked team nearly took out all of the hitmen from the Execution team. They injured them so badly that they're on hospital leave for now. Isn't that incredible?"

Crinkling your nose, you stared at Vincent, wide-eyed, "Truly."

Vincent only nodded in response. Knowing he wouldn't say anything next, you continued.

"We're the closest 'team' to the Elite Guard, we're on the same rank as them. Or, we were on the same rank as them." You frowned, "What's going to happen now? One of those Protection team members is going to become Boss? What if we're demoted because of this?"

"I'm sure we won't be demoted, we'll find a way to keep our rank. But yes; I'm pretty sure they've already figured things out amongst themselves. This happened two days ago, they kept it secret from the rest of Passione until now."

"And no one told us?"

"There was no one left to tell us. Doppio usually informs us on Passione events, and we're usually the first to know. When it wasn't Doppio, it was Tiziano and Squalo informing us with the occasional gossip call from Cioccolata, and they're all gone now." Vincent spoke boldly, "What I know is that there is a new Boss already in office, we just haven't been contacted yet. I heard talk earlier that he is planning on contacting us and is planning on doing it soon, and that he's aware as to our rank and names." 

Your eye twitched, "Our names? No one except for the now ex-Boss knew our real names. All of Passione except for the now deceased Boss and Elite Guard don't even know what we look like, our genders aren't even known. Everyone still thinks I'm a man, and that we're older, mature adults. There's no way this new Boss knows who we truly are just yet. Or do you mean who Passione knows us as? Did the ex-boss have our true names a file that this new boss accessed?"

Vincent, before he responded, took a sip of his tea. His cup was set down with a small ding as the beautifully decorated teacup connected with the glass coaster it had previously sat on. The Cheshire Cat grin he wore didn't falter, "The names Passione knows us as. The White Rabbit and Cheshire Cat. Though I haven't heard if he's said anything about our Wonderland team as a whole."

There was silence for a moment after Vincent had finished speaking.

Of course the new Boss knew who you two were, what your team was. Everyone in Passione did. Rumours about the White Rabbit and Cheshire Cat of the Boss's "Wonderland" team weren't easy to avoid. The team the Boss would turn to if not the elite guard. These rumours were horrific, and the threat of having the "Wonderland" team sent out was a threat often used against those who defied the rules. Yet despite that, your team was still one of the most respected and unbothered teams within Passione.

(Little did everyone know that these horrifying and gut-wrenchingly scary rumours were about two teens who--when they weren't doing Passione work--would literally argue over what mii sports vacation mini game they'd play.)

You were titled the White Rabbit for numerous reasons. You were as quiet as a rabbit, not only during the missions you were given but during business meetings as well, as rumoured and spread throughout Passione by the past members of the Elite Guard. An aura of mystery and haunting surrounded you, your unbroken silence, small motions and movements only increasing this feeling you gave others in Passione situations. You were also quick, never being seen, not a hair on your body was seen while you worked due to how quickly and efficiently you completed things.

Not only that, but you were smart, rumoured to be the more intelligent out of the two (a rumour of which you didn't support) and the one to make all important decisions. Jobs for the team were sent to you, you were mentioned first in threats, you were the more "serious" one out of the two.

Vincent, on the other hand, resided under the title of the Cheshire Cat. Vincent was mischievous and deceiving, tricking smaller teams into giving up information without even being in front of them to do so. He was sly and sneaky. He was known for playing tricks on smaller teams, and even the more important Passione people. When he did these "pranks", as long as nothing serious came of this, the ex-boss held little to no care for Vincent's actions of mischief.

You and the Cheshire Cat were given jobs often enough that weren't able to be completed by the lower ranked teams, any lower ranked person or any Capo within the organization, yet not able to be completed by the Elite Guard or the Boss himself. Or rather, jobs neither the Boss nor his Elite Guard wanted to do. These were often unsafe missions: hitman operations that the boss didn't trust the Execution team with, information gathering missions, and jobs in dangerous conditions were given to you and Vincent quite often. It's why you and him were so respected, you did what no one else was able to do, and what no one else wanted to do. 

When it came to threats, you two were known to do only the worst. No one was truly aware of what happened during the punishments given by the two of you, but anyone who was let go afterwards never returned the same: paranoid, anxious, and even fearful at even the mention of the two of you. All those ranked under the Wonderland Team had some level of fear when it came to you and Vincent. 

Silence continued on while you debated what to say next.

...

"Do we help the new Boss or would you want to avenge the ex-Boss." You questioned, continuing when Vincent looked up from his tea and at you, "If you asked me, I'd say we help the new Boss. Maybe he's more fair, not just towards us but towards Passione as a whole, unlike the last one." You furrowed your brows, "We both know how badly the Execution team was being treated, and seeing how badly we were paid for our work, I can't imagine what they were making knowing how much the ex-boss hated them."

"There could be a lot of pros and cons to helping him that we need be aware of." Vincent sighed, ready to listen to what you had to say next as he picked up and dropped another sugar cube into his tea.

You nodded, "I know. I'm sure if we help him we could earn more and become more trusted by him than we were for the last Boss. Though by doing that, we'd be risking having rumours spread of us—how we were so quick to abandon the last Boss and jump at the opportunity to join a new one."

"We'd be seen as untrustworthy, backstabbing anyone who isn't to our standards."

Vincent dropped a third sugar cube into his tea.

You shook your head, "You took the words out of my mouth. We've dealt with rumours about us before and I'm sure we can handle the soon to come ones as well." Leaning forward, you allowed your elbows to rest on the table, your head resting on top of the back of your hands, "I say we help the new Boss, if we don't we'd most likely lose our jobs and killed. I don't quite want that and I know you don't either."

Vincent hummed, lips shut tightly as he stirred his tea, allowing the sugar cubes to break about and flow throughout his drink. "Fine. We'll join the new boss- Oh! I've forgotten to mention something about him."

It's times like these when Vincent really resembled and lived up to his title. A cocky Cheshire Cat like grin spread across his face, he leaned back in his chair once again after letting his spoon go, allowing his tea to sit for a moment. A bit of his loose black hair fell over his eyes, the neon purple streaks becoming more evident with the lighting overhead. He crossed his arms, his eye contact unbreakable.

"I've heard the new boss is only a teenager, possibly even the same age as us, isn't that lovely? We may be nearly sixteen, but from the rumours floating around," Vincent leaned forward, "this new Boss is only said to be fifteen."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and tilting your head, "You're lying. No fifteen year old would know how to run a mafia. If what you're saying is true, it's surprising a fifteen year old even knows how to join Passione." You looked back at Vincent, eyes locking with his striking purple ones.

"I'm not lying~ Why would I lie to you? I have no reason to do so. I'm simply just repeating what the rumours have been whispering." Vincent sighed, returning to stirring his tea, dropping his fourth sugar cube in, much to your minor disgust, "Besides, you and I joined when we were just barely eleven, and we're literally fifteen, it can't be that surprising."

You sighed, "It doesn't matter. For now. Until we're contacted by this new Boss we should stay low, we wait for him to contact us first for a meeting and complete any potential jobs sent to us by him in the meantime." You stuck out your hand, your silver amethyst ring glistening under the chandelier dangling many feet above your head, "Agree? Do you understand?"

Vincent hummed, lips shut tightly as they were before,

"Maybe we could sneak around some of the lower rank teams a little, possibly even a Capo or two, and gain some information on the new Boss and his team in preparation. I know you want to and so do I." You added on

Finally, Vincent grinned and stuck his hand out to meet yours. His identical ring embedded with amethysts shined under the lights as your hands met. You shook hands and the agreement was understood.

Until contacted, you two would do nothing except for hang around your shared villa and possibly sneak out to gain some information. When the new Boss needs the White Rabbit and Cheshire Cat of his organization, he can take it upon himself to contact the two of you.

Before you could rise from your seat Vincent spoke,

"Say, before you head back to your room to do whatever it was you were doing, would you care for some video games? I'd love to play some rounds of that new dancing game I bought and totally beat your ass."

You deadpanned, "Beat my ass? You wish." A small giggle made it's way past your lips. Vincent beamed at your reaction, "I'm gonna ruin you, you wont even have a chance to realize you're losing before I beat your ass."

"[name], if you think you can beat me, you're delusional." 

"I can be, yes." 

Vincent rolled his eyes before finishing his tea. "I'll wash this later, let's go." He pushed himself up from the table and gestured for you to follow.

You snickered and nodded, quickly standing and following him from the room.

At least you and Vincent had something to do while waiting for your work situation to progress.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Informative Trials

November 23, 2022

"How should we go about this, I mean, how do we get more information?" You mumbled, aggressively typing in the names of Bucciarati's team members into your search bar, "I don't doubt that we'll find something, but how much information could we possibly get on this new guy if he has no social media presence? He has nothing posted on the accounts I can find... Trish too, I've gained some more information about her based on what I can see from her small online presence when she still lived with her mother, but even then there's not much to go off of."

"Did you write it down? The information that you have? I don't want to repeat any information and it's about time that we go off of what we have." Vincent mumbled, stopping his scrolling and raising his head.

You and Vincent sat on the best and most comfortable couch in the world (deemed the best by you and him) in your living room. You sat on one end, wrapped in blankets with your computer on your lap. Vincent sat on the other end of the couch, wrapped in his dark purple blankets with his computer resting on his lap, the other computer he owned sitting on the coffee table behind him on his end of the couch. It was turned on with some random old email pulled up.

Merely four feet in front of the couch was a comically large whiteboard on a wheeled stand with photos of each of the protection team members (including Trish) taped to it. All the information you two had gathered was written around who it was about. Information you'd found was written in pink marker, Vincent's in purple. Information about each member's stand was written in red ink, a couple of the members didn't even have any stand information written down because you and Vincent hadn’t been able to find anything. 

"I have some information written down in my notes app but I didn't want to get up, my blankets are too comfortable." You mumbled, slowly sliding down even further into the couch to evade Vincent's deadpan stare. "You can't blame me; this is the most comfortable couch in the world, remember?" You mumbled again, reaching to grab your hot chocolate filed tumbler that rested within reach on the coffee table. All Vincent replied with was a roll of the eyes before he broke out in a playful grin and chuckled before speaking.

"I was doing the same thing." You laughed softly at his words before taking a sip of your hot chocolate, recoiling slightly when the burning liquid hit your tongue. Vincent snorted at your expression, "Still hot? Told you that brand of tumbler was good, it keeps your drink warm for a while." Amusement was present in his voice, and a full laugh escaped his lips when you nodded in response, scrunching your nose. You reached over and set your tumbler back down, Vincent taking a moment to compose himself before looking back at the whiteboard, he sighed before moving his laptop and emerging from his cocoon of blankets. Grabbing the marker, he shot you a look of fake annoyance out of the corner of his eye.

Hiding a smile, you clasped your hands together, "Thank you, you're so brave." You began to giggle, "I could never do that." 

Rolling his eyes, he leaned back and tilted his computer to face him before beginning to copy his notes back onto the whiteboard. "Well, you're going to have to soon. We're going to go hang around the restaurant Bucciarati always goes to." He reached up, beginning to write at the top of the whiteboard, right at his eye level. "I figured out from overhearing--"

"Eavesdropping."

He turned to stare at you, "Uh no," he spoke dramatically, "it was accidental, I swear, I just overheard them talking about how he hadn't shown up lately. They said he always goes on Monday at around noon."

You sent a quick glance back at the time in the corner of your computer screen, "So, in about an hour and a half?" 

"Yep, now turn your screen towards me, I have to write down your information." Vincent held up his hand, giving you a grabbing motion. "I'm gonna write down your info, we'll get some information on the restaurant Libeccios and then we'll head there." Vincent leaned forward, snatching the computer from your lap and holding the top of it with his right hand, allowing the bottom of it to rest on his right arm while he wrote with his left hand. "If they're there and within our eyesight, use your stand so it doesn't look like we're eavesdropping." He paused, "And if they aren't there then we'll go get drinks, maybe some donuts, and then go find them and do a little spying."

"Alright, can you turn my computer off when you're done with that then?"

"Yeah, sure." He nodded, quickly scribbling down the information you'd found on the man named Leone Abbacchio, "But, since I'm writing this down for you so you can stay all bundled up... You're buying what we get at Libeccios and if they aren't there, then you're paying for drinks and donuts at a different café-- the one down the street from the aquarium." He grinned.

"That's fine."

Vincent beamed excitedly.

-

"You ready?" Vincent nudged your side with his foot, causing you to squirm a little. "Those are fine; they look nice with your outfit." He crouched down, poking at the lace gloves you held in your hand before poking at the lace choker you wore. Dark clothing was your go-to clothing style, it kept you hidden well on missions and when styled well, it looked absolutely stunning on you. More often than not, lace accessories were your favourite things to wear: lace gloves, black or dark red hair bows, chokers, high-end velvet clothing, lace skirts embroidered with the different playing card suits, dark shoes, and all other "gothic" type clothes were your staple.

"Alright, I was just making sure this matched." You sighed, looking up at Vincent before sliding the gloves on and standing up. Vincent took a step back, adjusting the black messenger bag that rested across his body before sliding his hands into his pockets.

Similar to your dark outfit, Vincent wore nearly all black. A dark violet tank top hung loosely over his torso, half-tucked into his black ripped jeans. Overtop was an oversized black hoodie, the sleeves hanging loosely on his arms. To compliment his tank top as well as his amethyst ring and other purple jewelry, he styled a plain purple beanie. The purple in his outfit brought out his electric purple eyes, which he used to stare at you with a blank expression.

"It matches," he nods, pulling a hand from his pocket along with his phone, " Now, it's thirty minutes till noon and we should get there early before they get there so we blend in." You hummed in response before he continued, "There's a smaller room near the back of Libeccio, a room where Bucciarati and his group sit specifically." Vincent slid his phone into his pocket, then crossed his arms, "He's so well respected in Naples that he's got his own table there."

"We'll have to get a table near that room then. If anything, we'll still be able to hear them even if we don't see them." You slid your bag over your shoulder and looked up towards Vincent, "I'll use my stand to enhance our hearing so we'll be able to hear them if they're around a corner or something.." You paused, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows, "If they find out that we did this, will we get into trouble?"

Vincent shook his head, a mischievous grin making it's way to his lips, "Well, I know you won't say anything, that's pretty much guaranteed since you don't talk during meetings.. and I won't say anything for obvious reasons.. so how will they know? We'll erase the whiteboard, toss their photos out, and keep all information we know of to ourselves. Easy. They'll never find out." He pat your head, "Besides, if they were able to get rid of the old boss, they obviously would've done something similar. They, no doubt, gathered information to be cautious and aware of what they're dealing with. That's the same thing we're doing. We're being cautious." He took a step back, towards the door, resting his hand on the doorknob, "We'll be fine."

You shook your head before speaking, "No one on Bucciarati's team--including Trish and the new guy--know how to use computers, but one of the Execution Team members is very skilled at it." You shrugged, "They've been keeping on the down low but Bucciarati's team spared their lives, and they'll most likely join them and the new boss as a way to say 'thank you' or something, right?" Vincent tilted his head, "What if that one Execution Team member figures out we've been practically stalking Bucciarati and his men and getting their info? Not just them but Trish too?"

"You always seem to forget that I've got a setup, my own actual office upstairs with a whole setup of computers. I'm good at this. I promise you," He held out his hand, stretching out his pinky finger, "I pinky promise you that they won't find out. We'll be fine." You hesitated at his words, but simply nodded and held up your pinky finger, locking it with his. His grin returned and he pulled back his hand, "There we go! They won't find anything, guaranteed, I've done spy missions before and we've been fine, so we'll be fine now." Vincent finished, placing his hand back on the doorknob and pulling it open, "Now, let's go. We can't be late for our surprise date with the new boss and his team, that wouldn't be good."

You sighed, "Alright." You followed him out the door.

"Don't forget, you're still paying!" His voice held excitement, which resulted in a small smile making its way to your lips. His excitement eased your anxiousness a smidge.

"I haven't forgotten, don't worry."

"Good." Vincent shut the door behind the two of you before spinning around to face you as you stepped down the front steps to your home. He quickly jumped down the steps, his feet hitting the ground at the same time as yours did. He quickly pulled the keys to the car from your small black crossbody bag and before you could realize what he'd done, he'd already run to the car. "I'm driving today, and-" He turned to point at you as he pulled the driver's side car door open, "Even if they are there, can we still go get drinks after? I really want that cinnamon latte from that great place down the street from the aquarium. Or maybe their apple cinnamon tea, that was really good as well. Oh! Speaking of apple cinnamon, I'm gonna make that apple cinnamon pie I've been craving later." 

You raised an eyebrow, "Craving? Since when, last night?" You made your way around the car and pulled the passenger side door open, sliding in and pulling your bag over your head, placing it on your lap after buckling your seat belt.

"Since this morning." He flashed you a grin and a laughed bubbled up in your throat. He joined in, letting a laugh out before rolling his eyes and starting up the car. "Let's go, I'm getting all excited now for some food and drinks. Especially excited to finally see such important Passione people in the flesh and have them have no idea who we are!" You giggled even more, rolling your eyes.

"I'm a bit excited now too, this is going to be like seeing a celebrity." Vincent smiled brightly at your words as he began to pull the car from the driveway,

"See, you get it."

-

You sipped your ice-cold drink through the metal straw you'd bought that was now cold to the touch.

Vincent snickered, casually covering his mouth to muffle the laughter, "Are you hearing these people, (Y/n)? The guys behind you? They're so loud." He leaned forward, whispering to you as you rolled your eyes, "Don't roll your eyes at me! We've been here for twenty minutes now and they're still not here, I'm just looking for some entertainment."

"Eavesdropping entertainment?"

Vincent held up his left hand in protest, using his right to scoop up a small sugar cube for the tea he'd ordered. "Ok, maybe this time i was eavesdropping-- oh shit." Vincent paused, his eyes landing on someone behind you. He then looked towards you, dropping the sugar cube into his tea, his violet eyes locked with yours.

"They're here?" You questioned in a hushed whisper, sipping on your drink once more before swirling the glass around. The ice clubs clinked against each other inside, small dings erupting with each movement of the ice.

Vincent hesitated before nodding, his gaze fixed on you, "Well, there definitely are people here, but it's not who we expected it to be.." He mumbled, your interest piqued at his words. You wanted to see who was here now. Though staring would raise suspicion, and with so much current chaos and danger circulating around Passione, there would be no doubt that Bucciarati and the new boss would be undoubtedly keeping an eye on everything around them. Even staring for longer than a second could cause issues if you and Vincent were noticed, even if no one knew who you two truly were.

Vincent bit his lip before looking down at his cup, a small chuckle escaping his nearly closed lips, "The only open table that would fit that many people at the moment is beside us, so we're in luck." You raised an eyebrow.

"You said earlier that Bucciarati and his group had their own personal room, the one just behind you." You mumbled, looking down at your menu while Vincent merely shook his head at your words, scooping up another sugar cube from the small cup of them he'd ordered.

"It's not Bucciarati." Vincent shrugged, he spoke casually while dropping his second sugar cube into his tea.

You furrowed your brows, looking up in confusion. "What do you-"

From your left, the sound of chairs moving and loudly scratching against the floor cut you off. Vincent cast a glance over, his lips forming into the tiniest mischievous grin known to man. He then leaned forward, mumbling a small, "Enhance our hearing; this is gonna be interesting." Before he tilted his head down and flipped open his menu.

You squinted a little before subtly glancing over at the table next to yours. Your heart skipped a beat. Sitting down at the table beside yours was the Execution Team. From what you could see, half of them weren't there, and those who were didn't seem to be in the best condition; bandages peeked out from underneath the men's clothing. Most had bruises that looked as though they were only beginning to fade: bluish and yellowish blotches covering their knuckles; some even had tinges of purple, red, and small spots of yellow lingering around their eyes, most likely the result of a punch. You recognized all of the men, having known their names from the times you'd had to gain information on them in the past.

Sorbet and Gelato sat near the far end of the table against the back wall, sitting beside each other. They kept glancing around, luckily not meeting your eyes. You remembered that about a year ago, they'd tried to dig up some information on the boss and their team ended up being severely punished and shunned because of it. Though, you and Vincent had definitely gained some sort of.. "admiration" and respect for them for what they'd tried to do. They definitely had to have some guts to try something as risky as that.

Beside them (closest to Vincent's seat) was Melone. Specifically, the Execution Team member you'd been paranoid about earlier. He was very intelligent about all things electronic, computers being his specialty. During the whole time their team was attacking Bucciarati's group, (which you'd heard happened from Vincent and his knowledge of all things Passione), you'd heard he was taken down by a snake bite and was left hospitalized by the venom. You'd also heard that it was his tongue the snake had bit, and Vincent had told you that first because he found it very funny. 

Across from Sorbet was Formaggio. Beside him was Pesci, the supposed "brother" of one of the other members who wasn't at the table. Maybe they weren't brothers-- you'd never been able to find any solid proof that they were--but that didn't matter. 

Formaggio had already dug into the complimentary breadsticks that resided in a bowl in the middle of their table. He munched on them while rolling his eyes at something Melone must've said to him, as the two began to laugh and snicker with each other from their personal spots. What caught your eye though, were the small burns that covered the visible skin on Formaggio's arms. Vincent had said that during the attacks, one of the guys had nearly gone up in flames before retreating, so based on that, you quickly made the assumption it had been Formaggio.

Pesci was beside him, quietly sitting with his hands on his lap. His eyes were darting back and forth between his teammates, though he didn't say anything until Gelato looked over and asked what drink he was going to get.

You didn't know much about Pesci, but you heard there wasn't much to know anyway. He kind of reminded you of a pineapple, and Vincent agreed, having said in the past that his hair reminded him of the top of a pineapple. Maybe that's a bit mean to think, maybe he's nice.

Finally, you realized who the man was in the seat closest to you. He sat beside Pesci and across from Melone. It didn't take you long to realize who he was, and when you did, your eyes quickly shot back to Vincent, whose grin had only grown within the couple of seconds you'd looked away.

The man in the seat nearest to you was Risotto Nero, the leader of the Execution Team.

He was tall, his height making him come off as more intimidating. His eyes were very interesting to you, and they always had been since the first time you saw him-- three years prior, when you had to gather some information for his team and was given a photo of the leader you'd be getting the information for. His sclera was black, his irises a deep red. His hair was snow white. He overall gave off the vibes of a vampire, his current outfit only added to the impression that he was a vampire.

Risotto sat silently, staring down at the menu that the waiter--who seemed quite nervous to be serving them--had handed him and the rest of his present team members when he'd seated them at their table.

You frowned a little, Vincent snickered before sitting up straight and giving you a wide cheshire grin, "We're lucky today aren't we? Maybe we'll get even more of what we need from this." He chuckled a little, ignoring how Risotto Nero glanced over from his menu at your table, eyeing the two of you for a moment.  Vincent tilted his head, ignoring the feeling of the vampire-like eyes beginning to bore into the side of his head, "So, whatcha getting? I was thinking the mushroom and chicken risotto." He hummed, pointing down at the menu, "What about you?"

You deadpanned, picking up on how the other table had hushed for a moment. You tilted your head, merely staring at Vincent blankly. 

If they were listening, you wouldn't speak. If you did, it would be in a quiet tone, and you would guarantee that they wouldn't hear your voice.

Vincent tapped his cheek, "Right! You said earlier that you wanted the same thing as me, yeah? You'd just take whatever I ordered?" You nodded in response without hesitation, Vincent's grin widened-- if that was even possible, "You'd like the risotto too?"

You shrugged and nodded, placing your elbow onto the table and proceeding to rest your head on your hand. You then mumbled, "Doesn't matter, just no mushrooms." You looked down, pulling your phone from your bag. Vincent simply hummed in response, and dropped two more sugar cubes into his drink, much to your growing disgust. "Those are the fifth and sixth sugar cubes you've dropped in there, isn't that too much?" Your eyes darted back to your phone and you opened your mailbox, "You'll get sick if you keep doing this." Your mailbox was nearly all caught up, except for the one new email you'd received merely three minutes prior to you opening the app. Deciding to see who it was sent from, you opened it.

"I haven't been sick in years-"

"We gotta go," you quickly muttered, interrupting the Cheshire Cat. If it weren't for your stand being activated and allowing Vincent's hearing to be enhanced, he wouldn't have heard you. "We gotta go now, check your email." You quickly shut your phone off, reaching into your pocket and pulling out enough money to cover your water, Vincent's tea, and still leave a good tip for the waiter. "It's him." You whispered.

Vincent's smile dropped at the sight of the email he'd gotten, "Right when we were hit with the unexpected fun too.. This sucks. He decides to contact us now?" His voice became hushed down to a whisper.

You sent Vincent a look, one that was enough for him to sigh and stand up, watching as you quickly began to exit the restaurant after dropping the cash on the table. Vincent followed you, his eyes locking with those of Risotto Nero. For a moment, Vincent offered his most mischievous cheshire grin before quickly turning his head away and following you out the door. He ignored the firm stares from those of the Execution Team as you and him exited the restaurant.

Vincent bounced up beside you as the two of you quickly made your way down the sidewalk before turning into a dark alleyway, a shortcut to get to your car quicker.

"So.. you think we're gonna die?" Vincent spoke, checking his phone to re-read the email again.

Your expression stayed blank, like it was before.

"I hope not."