When he’d slotted his key into the lock of his apartment’s door, he knew something was wrong. Not through any sixth sense or initiative -- but because he’d heard something fall within the room, as if someone trying to navigate through the stacks of junk and stuff he’d accumulated over the years. Formaggio pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear anything.
Either he was going crazy, or he could hear talking.
Trusting in his assassin’s senses of the latter, he carefully opened the door, attempting to be as stealthy as possible. When it was just open a notch, he shrunk himself down to size, slinking in and hiding among the refuse and squalor. Who the hell had broken into his apartment? He would’ve figured they’d take one look at the mess and determine he had nothing of worth.
Hiding behind a stack of adult magazines, Formaggio peeked to watch the apparent burglars. One of them was quite clearly wearing a Stand, that energy was something else. If one was a Stand user, he could only assume his taller, skinnier partner was too. He was starting to think they weren’t burglars.
He decided he was going to observe them, see what they were looking for. If they were waiting for him to arrive.. well, Formaggio better start thinking of a plan and fast.
@medicomorte
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