Fuck Nudes, Send Me A Therapist

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(Tons of thanks to oblivionwunna for the title name!)

"They made it back up," Cioccolata grumbled. "All of those bastards made it back onto the shore without a single one of them dying. Interesting. Good. Excellent. I think I understand how they survived so long after betraying the boss. You got the footage, didn't you, Secco? The desperate looks on their faces as they were fighting for their lives?"

He nodded, excitedly gesturing to the screen on his camera, depicting Narancia's screams as the mold ate away at his skin.

"Ooooh! Good!" He reached forward, cupping Secco's face and giving him scratches under the chin and on the temple. "Good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good! Well done, Secco!"

Cioccolata smirked. He knew the more curious someone is, the stronger they become mentally. Humans are far more curious than any other creature, and that is why they evolved. He couldn't wait to see it. He couldn't wait to see guys like them die. Secco whined, pulling his mask down over her chin. He wanted sugar cubes! He wanted treats! "Uwa! Hah! Hah!"

"Oh, right. Forgive me I'd forgotten. You get a treat for taking such a good picture! How does two sound?" He watched his beloved assistance cry out and hold up his fingers. "Three, you say? Do you want three sweet ones? You little glutton! All right. You can have three. Here it comes, Secco. Here comes three!"

He tossed over the little cubes, watching with delight as Secco snatched up the first two. But the third one had gone way too far. As to not let his sugar cubes be wasted, Secco shot up one of his sugary treats catching all three of them in his mouth to crunch on those bad boys.

"Goooood! Good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good! You're such a good boy, Secco!" He cooed, and Secco hastily flipped through the other photos to try and wring out some more treats for him. Clicking through the small gallery, he paused on what seemed like a blurry photo of a pink being. A stand, most likely, no one could be that nauseously pink. He clicked back one more time at a clearer shot on the boat. The stand's dark pink hair, styled into two buns, glassy skin, and gold accents, he had seen them before. But where? Where where where? Hastily, he shoved the camera into Cioccolata's view, who studied the photo carefully. His first assignment as an elite was to kill a girl and deliver a single eye as proof, but for some reason, the only memory he has of that historic event was the video they took and shelved. Now, what did that have to do with the presence of this odd pink being? They weren't exactly sure. It was like their memory of that day was scrambled, but they knew there had to be some connection.

Peering down at the group of two, he didn't see the sixteen-year-old female he had dissected. In all honesty, his only memories came from the videotape and the medical file he had printed out during the time but oddly couldn't find a replica of. This was seemingly the only time she had ever been in a hospital by the looks of her records, She was taken there after an incident and needed medical attention. Further diagnosis led to a small problem that should have been fixed and that's when he stepped in. That means all this info was rather recent, but searching through the database led to no results. (Y/N) (L/N) did not exist. Well, even if she did survive all that experimentation, it didn't matter, they would kill her here and now. Annoyed, he waved his hand. "You go to Bucciarati and the others, Secco. You and your stand, Oasis. Leave nothing behind."

Retreating to the turtle, (Y/N) focused on culling the growth of the mold, her Party Trick killing off the pockets of infection as Giorno filled them in with various items from (Y/N)'s magic charm. "Sorry, it might hurt a bit, but please don't move or I might get acid on you instead."

Giorno worked on filling in the wounds, eyes flickering to (Y/N)'s face. She was someone who no matter what, tried her absolute best to be positive, so to see her so distraught over something was more than odd to him. Abbacchio saw this too. After working as a cop, he could tell when someone was nervous. They got fidgety, averted their eyes, either talked too much or too little, and this wasn't the first time they've seen her so silent. "(Y/N), is something on your mind?"

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