Southern Italy. Surely there was a time when she had visited the city, especially since she’s traveled the majority of the country in search of assignments. Not to mention there was something about the air that rang a familiar bell inside her head. Strolling around some more, a scent finally made its way up her nose that caused that chime to ring.
Smoke. Cigarette smoke, to be exact. But what— or who— was it linked to? Soon she began hunting down the source of that familiar smoke, trying her best to not be caught sniffing like a hound in the woods by the few strangers that scattered the streets. Eventually a line of exhaust caught her attention, checking her intended path thoroughly before walking hastily over to the man taking in the drug. His hair style and color was memorable, especially since she didn’t meet many with such an oddball hue.
After attempting to reach out to him, hand hovering his shoulder, a small gulp passed through her throat as a name was put to trial.
“… Anthony?”
A familiar tune passes thin lips between intakes of smoke, one ear bud hanging down over his spring jacket as he strolls along. He was always guilty of listening to more north american music than he would like to admit, but he did have an excuse considering he lived there for six months this year. He enjoyed seeing his biological father, and even going to school for a short period of time. His english had improved, but in turn his senses had dulled. Such that he doesn't hear her approach, but instead feels a strange tingle in his spine as her hand hovers over his shoulder.
His head snaps around as he takes a skittish jump from the pavement, assuming it was just another spirit toying with his emotions while he was trying to relax. "Vaffanculo!" The violet haired male hisses through the cigarette between his lips, taking it out in a hurry and waving it threateningly at whoever is behind him. Pupils dilate in the darkness, only able to make out the bright red locks of a female among the strange tingling still present in his spine. "Quello che fai--" He begins, turning his hands palm up in front of him. Under the lamplight he then makes out the rest of her, the tattoos, the muscular build.. and then she calls his name. It has to be the demon he met more than a year ago, he thinks.
"..Syn? Dio mio, is that you? I am sorry for the language, but you caught me off guard. Are you well?"
