#nuovaera: crepcscolo

[morteesigarette]

After the dust had settled and the sun had risen, the beginning of a new era dawned upon the beaten and battered remains of La Squadra. That was an adequate word to describe himself, he thought: remains. After the battle on the super express train to Firenze, Prosciutto was lucky, or perhaps unlucky, to escape with his life. At the cost of, quite literally, an arm and a leg, and an eye as added interest. He was out of commission. Physically, mentally, spiritually, utterly.

Discord and chaos cleaved through all the ranks of Passione, but there was an eerie silence in the apartment that acted as their base as the battered assassins looked to their capo for guidance. Ultimately, Risotto said that they shall offer their services to this new don, Giorno, if he was willing to have it. That they will not ask for forgiveness, but clarify that in the end, they were on the same team. Their reasons to defect. Their assets as they are now. 

Prosciutto could only agree. It would be too much to think that he will be as he was before, in the field, working as the weapon he was meant to be, and frankly, he had no reason to hope for some peace in the future, but they are to meet with Giorno personally this afternoon. If there was something that could only disguise itself at hope, that’s what Prosciutto felt in his chest, taking a pair of crutches to join his capo in their meeting.

@crepcscolo