I May Be Radical But I Am Also Sadical

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"Tell La Squadra to bring their informant. There are many people whom I need to test their loyalty, and I have a bad feeling about him." Giorno brushed a hand over his mouth, reading up on the stone mask from what little they could procure out of the wary eyes of Polnareff. Apparently, the Narcotics team was trying to get their hands on it, so they knew just what they were told. They knew the location, and they knew the consequences. That was it, but that was enough for Giorno to cook up a plan. "I want to speak with him soon."

"Right now? You're meeting with the Capos today, aren't you?" Mista yawned, flipping his gun around his finger. Trish was out at a few companies to try and fulfill her dream of becoming a popstar, and Bruno would join with the others. He was a full fledged Capo and the Don's right hand, and with the absence of Fugo, Abbacchio became his second in command. Narancia and Mista have appointed the title as the Don's personal bodyguards, and Polnareff took the title of babysitter and left hand. That left (Y/N), the informant. So far, everyone has done their job splendidly. Including, the son of Nunzio Pericolo.

The son of the deceased Capo that risked his life for the mob has too, decided to give his life to Passione. As the Capos were unsure about the new appearance of their Don, Gianluca Pericolo had gathered their worries and shit on them. He was probably one of the only reasons that they all have banded together and accepted their Don's position. For this reason, Giorno has asked her to formally invite him to inherit his father's territory and title.

Gathered in a villa created to host extravagant parties, Giorno sat at the back of the room, perched on top of the plush red and gold seat as if a king looking among his subjects. These were the men that swear loyalty to his entire soul and being, their Don. one by one, they kissed his hand, a symbol of respect from an underling.

Risotto did it reluctantly, more focused on the figure in the back of the room, hidden in the corner. (Y/N). She didn't communicate with anyone, and she was more just surveying the area. It didn't seem to be that anyone noticed her.

Last up, was Bruno. This would be quick, since from the beginning, Bruno has done almost everything for the sake of Giorno's dream. It just so happened to coincide with his.

"Hey, we don't have to do that too, right?" Narancia whispered, watching the last of the Capos exit the building. "That's embarrassing."

"Nah, he already knows we're on his side!" Mista laughed nervously, eyes darting around the room. It was obvious that neither of them wanted to and that would hold true for most of the rest of the team. "Right Giorno??"

"There's no need." He waved it off, chuckling softly at their antics. He almost had to remind himself that they were trained and dangerous Stand users, even if they really were just teenagers. The other teenager, however, was happily leaving her post to go meet up with La Squadra's Capo. There better be only a single reason for that, and it should be strictly business.

"Formaggio is healing up enough, but the others are still teasing him as the only one who actually got their ass beat by a teen girl." Risotto leaned against the wall of the villa, watching (Y/N) slide down and rest her cheek on her fist. She hasn't been able to visit with all the preparations and changes they have been making, from spreading rumours to helping create their next plans of action, it's all very annoying to do. This is why she didn't want to be boss, there's so much stuff to do and so little reward. What does she get? Nothing, and even if she did, she doesn't have any time to enjoy it. Granted, Everyone else was equally as busy as her and things would die down soon enough. They only had to wait it out.

"Yes but the teen girl is me, so he should be cut some slack." With a lighthearted chuckle, she plucked a dandelion from the ground, brushing the delicate yellow petals before flicking it away. Pausing, something behind them was heading their way. Giorno's soul, oh no- "Did you bring the informant?"

"He is on his way, but he will be here shortly." His reply was curt, if not a little confused. That is, until Giorno joined their little conversation. "Boss."

"Risotto." Giorno glanced at his informant. (Y/N) shook her head. "Tell him not to keep the Don Of Passione waiting. I said I wanted to speak with him soon."

"He's on his way, shouldn't be too long," she reassured him with a dismissive hand. Her little soul thing was getting handy, at least enough that she could sort of read a person with it. It was accurate once she could understand it, but that's easier said than done. Still, Giorno was a patient man, she knew that outright. That's a good thing. After all, Cannolo Murolo was all the way in Rome. It would take more than a few minutes to come. "Narcy, stat. You sense anybody?"

"Most of the Capo's left, and Bruno's on his way up." If you were to ask how he could tell it was Bruno, it's because he had the habit of patting the airplane's head when it passed by, so he's learned to associate the two. "There's a few lingering at the base to have a smoke, and there's one person approaching."

"(Y/N), you're up." Giorno snapped his fingers, sending her off on another little trip. He watched her whine and slump onto the ground before begrudgingly standing up and languidly stalking forward. Making her way to the fence that surrounds the hill, she jumped off the steep edge, not batting an eye to the slippery, loose rocks or thorny bushes. If they were regular people, they might've been worried. Thankfully, they are all assholes with Stands, and can see the work of SCF at play, ensuring her master isn't harmed. Or, is only harmed at a bare minimum. "I really wish she would stop doing that."

"Should I send the pistols after her?" Mista raised his gun, his six little stand people cheering with excitement. They didn't get to do a lot of missions. Just paperwork and meetings and figuring out how to fix the fifteen year economic wreck that was Passione. Sure, his desktop was organized, but it was sort of obvious that he didn't care about his mafia all that much. "I can make sure she isn't dead or anything."

"She'll be fine." They waved it off. Right. Mista forgot; She just couldn't fucking die. It's either lucky or very unlucky of her, but so be it. She didn't seem to care either way. They had bigger problems, namely, the rival team. But how? You might ask. The Bucci gang already won, they have the throne! The control of an entire mafia and the support of the highly elusive Speedwagon Foundation! But that is incorrect, because there was one thing they couldn't have because not only was it illegal it was ethically immoral. (Y/N). Neither of them could take her like an object, it was more of two parents fighting over a child, two families over a dog, or two immature schoolgirls fighting over the hot new transfer student. The last one was the most accurate however. She was the breath of fresh air so rare in the Mafia, after all.

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