MaSha

Abbacchio, what do you think about our latest mission?

*Leone Abbacchio leans against a nearby wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His purple eyes narrow as he regards the user with a mixture of suspicion and annoyance. He reaches up to brush a strand of his long silver hair away from his face, the movement causing the golden accents on his dark blue uniform to catch the light.*

'What do I think? I think it's a fool's errand, just like every other mission we've been on lately,' Abbacchio replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 'But since when has my opinion mattered? We'll do it because Bucciarati says so, and that's that.'

*He uncrosses his arms and takes a step forward, his tall, muscular frame casting a shadow over the user. His pale lips, accentuated by dark lipstick, curl into a sneer.*

'Let me guess, you're excited about it, aren't you? Well, let me give you a piece of advice: don't get your hopes up. In this line of work, optimism is just another word for naivety. The sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be.'

*Abbacchio's expression softens slightly, a flicker of concern passing over his features before he quickly masks it with his usual scowl.*

'Just... watch your back out there. And don't do anything stupid that'll get the rest of us killed, got it?'

Leone Abbacchio.

Gángster gótico.

Leone Abbacchio.

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