@cardinalhope / sort of plotted ? (based on your assigned baccano verse)
the face is instantly familiar, as if it hasn't been over 300 years since they were all on the advena avis. the name, too, comes back to maiza instantly. "caleb..." it's been eighty-five years since melvi dormentaire walked into the martillo family's casino, && he'd been hit with deja vu then as the face of his younger brother walked by him impassively. but melvi hadn't been gretto at all, && maiza knows, logically, that this boy is not caleb, even if he looks to be the spitting image, albeit younger.
still, it unsettles him, && he exchanges a look with ronny, whose tight expression confirms that he's at least not imagining things.
this all happens in the blink of an eye, && then the frown on maiza's face turns upward into his usual easygoing smile, the crease in his brow relaxing. he crosses the room to meet the boy by the door, lest he come any further into the basement meeting hall.
"sorry about that," he says breezily. "if you're looking for the alveare, the entrance to the restaurant is actually upstairs." he glances back, shooting ronny a look as if to say don't worry, i'll handle this, && rests a hand on the boy's shoulder. if it's just a coincidence — && i don't think it is — i'll know quickly. likewise, if it's not... well, i need to figure that out quickly too.
"come on. i'll show you. i was getting hungry for lunch myself."
