It wasn’t so much a personal recommendation from Polpo that Risotto evaluate .. ( his eyes glance down to the paper in hand, briefly, once; before back to the viewing glass. ) Amber, as much as it was an order to. He understood the subtle nature of his suggestions. If he didn’t find a home in La Squadra, then it would be a living limbo for him and his true potential never reached.
Even behind the glass and the thin wall separating them, the man resided within Metallica’s range. The information the Stand fed back to him would be incomprehensible to most people -- incapable of speech or basic sentience, it spoke to him more in images and statistics, not words. Strings of numbers associated with pictures that he had learned to translate subconsciously --
Risotto paused, forcing Metallica to stop it’s so called ‘scan,’ if it could really be called that. He requested that it fed back the last string. With that in mind, he was now ready to meet his new potential recruit.
Pushing away from the window, he strode towards the door, exiting the side and approaching the small little room the other was waiting in. He opened the door, stepped inside, and stared him down.
“You’re dying.”
@lytiphile ( in which risotto has to be dramatic )
