ClassicalPest

    It was a warm, sunny day in Italy, perfect weather for going out on the town with nothing but a CD player and some time to kill- and certainly enough of an excuse for Narancia to 'forget' he was supposed to be floundering through endlessly-frustrating math lessons with Fugo. But even though he was spending the day goofing off, the teenage mafioso was sure to stay on his toes like Bucciarati always told him to. All it took was one no-good punk with a Stand to turn a pleasant day into a bloodbath. But Narancia wasn't too worried; he was more than capable of holding his own with「Aerosmith」at his side. He wasn't some idiot kid,

    "It's almost comical, the lives we lead."    "Is it? I'm not laughing."    "I agree, I agree. No matter our background, it seems the thread tying us all together is the overwhelming bleakness of our respective existences."    "...You know, I was a Lord's Blade, once." Ciaran drew a bit of her drink through the straw poking into the mouth of her mask before continuing. "One of the Four Knights of Gwyn, even. We threw off the yoke of the dragons, began the Age of Fire, brought life to the world... And what did we get for it? Our lords went mad, Artorias fell to the Dark, the rest of us may as well be dead, and now you humans are sproutin