She nodded. “Sounds good…” Trish replied, doing the same with her menu. she rested her hands on her lap as she glanced around the restaurant. It had been a while since she’d been here and it was nice to be here. 

Trish glanced over to him, cocking her eyebrow up a bit. She’d ask something, but she was stopped before she started. “Oh.. yes, it’s fairly nice.. it’s changed a bit since I last came here, though…” She had nodded in agreement.

She was only able to come here on special occasions since it took so long to get here. It was far off from the island and it cost a lot of money to come here. It was a treat to go here— but ‘special occasions’ seemed to happen more often than she recalled.

Once their waiter had come back, he asked for drinks. Trish ordered her usual Perrier. She could have anything else, but, it was what she would only drink. He turned to Bruno and asked the same.

Bucciarati requested a simple glass of ice water, and then turned back to Trish as their waiter went off to retrieve the waters. Mineral water. The same she had requested when they first met. Interesting, knowing she'd always had the same taste in drink. Not surprising, however.

After they were alone again, Bruno leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes on his company. "What did it look like last time? Was it nicer?" just trying to keep a pleasant conversation going. It wasn't something he was very good at.

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Dio’s eyes widened to appear more relaxed.

"Calm yourself, mio amico, I do not intend to cause any trouble. I merely wanted to find out the truth myself and settle my doubts.” Dio kept a level tone with his voice as he spoke. He did not need to deal with violence.

"But I do intend to ask you, Bucciarati, does your gang activity effect children? I have a son who lives there, you see."

"I can't answer that, since I alone don't know everything my subordinates do."

In reality, he was very aware that Luca, a previous member of the group, now passed, had sold drugs to children. But Dio didn't need to know this. That problem had passed, and bringing it up would only cause trouble. He hoped that Dio's 'doubts' had been settled, and he could proceed on his way. Very much to do, very little time to do it.

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Dio’s mind rationalized everything together causing a smirk to appear on his face. Conscious of it he let it fade away choosing his words carefully.

"That’s very kind of you, but I’m not technically allowed to see them. In any case, Signore Bucciarati, you have proven something to me. I’ve always heard Italians were fond of their family bloodlines, the mafia most of all.”

Dio’s eyes narrowed. “So I surmise that you must be a gang member?”

Bucciarati's eyes narrowed in turn. This man was calculated. He was dangerous. But, for some reason, he still gave off that calming aura. This only proved he was more dangerous than his surface could show.

"I was not at the time I was protecting my father, but yes. I am un membre de la mafia. Mafioso."

He wasn't one of the ones harming his town. But then, through inaction, wasn't he? It didn't matter. He suspected Dio didn't care, anyway.

"If you've come all this way to hurt me, Signore, I strongly advise against it. I'm quite capable, and I'm certainly not the type of gangster you're looking for. My group protects this town."

For a moment, the gamer seemed almost disappointed. He would be lying if he ever said he wasn’t enjoying the sappy flatteries and continuous flirting. And he sighed, taking his time to think about the situation, D’Arby decided it was probably better to proceed with caution.

"First of all, Bucciarati dear, this is not make up." He moved a finger up, touching the tip of his own nose as he pointed to the marks. "I was born with these marks, the same way I was born with my stand." Keeping cold blue eyes on the other man, Terence’s lips curled up into a smile once more. He simply had no intention to show weakness or hesitancy before the stranger.

"Second, I would be honestly baffled if you believed that I am the only stand user in Naples you’re unaware of. But since you asked so nicely and I’m in no mood to draw more attention…" He moved his hands down, crossing his arms and taking a serious tone as well. "I am here to see a friend. I’ve been searching for him for a while and if I can’t find him, at least I want to be sure that his son is safe… "

The man before him didn't twitch, didn't seem afraid. Instead, he displayed exactly the strong, unbroken spirit which had attracted the mafioso in the first place. His iron mask broke into a small smile. A good day, when he was able to find another Stand user.

"Of course, my mistake," his voice stayed the same, smooth and serious. "And of course I know there must be more Stand users. One of them probably being the boy you're seeking, as well as his father, Mr. D'Arby. Perhaps you could tell me about them?"

He doubted Terence would be willing to divulge such information without incentive, but he could hope. And so, for now, he left the man to answer. While he waited, his mind strayed to what his 'incentive' might be. He would start with the left hand. Not too important, not fatal, but good for shock value.

The other seemed to be becoming more grave and guarded. That was good maybe fate had given him the heart of the problem.

"I happened to run into a tourist and I found out as we were discussing Naples. Quite a shame, I have family there and now I must worry."

"Family..?"

Was the man simply concerned for his family? If so, Bucciarati couldn't really blame him. His time spent protecting his own father was brought to mind. Gang activity.

"My apologies. Perhaps I could help you get in touch with this family, signore?" his defensiveness seemed to fade for a moment, his guard lowered. "I'm well known in Naples, and I'm certain I could be of assistance. I know too well what it feels like to worry for one's family."

Well, obviously her tastes were more expensive and she’d wish to go with something that is better tasting and much more to fit her ‘social status’.. which, was not high at all, but she liked to pretend. “…I’d like to get used to not living such a cushioned life a little early.” She stated. 

Dessert did sound good.. and the more money that he could put towards it, the better it would be. ..Maybe she’d just save her high class tastes for dessert and settle for lower on the entree. “Dessert is usually better than the main course, anyway..” She looked back to him, raising her eyebrow. “..I’m still fine with the arancini, however.”

"Of course, I wouldn't expect you to change your mind on anything," Bucciarati nodded and placed his menu on the table. "Myself, I'll just have the braciole. Nice and simple."

He kept his eyes on Trish for a short while, thinking deeply. Most of his thoughts concerned her. The circumstances of their meeting, and the fate of them both. "This is a nice restaurant, isn't it?"

He had something to confess to her, but he didn't know exactly how to phrase it. At some point, he'd have to say it. He didn't have very long, after all. At the thought, his hand idly touched his chest, the heart-shaped tattoo. He wondered if his blood was still flowing.

Ah, to hell with it. He'd tell her over dessert. She'd said the tiramisu was good. Hopefully she was right. Oh, how his mind wandered.

That last comment was enough to take a smile out of the gamer. “Then those are two things we have in common already, sir. This is being a rather pleasant meeting.” Looking down, he still kept his hand busy with the loose strands. But as flattered and glad as he was, Terence couldn’t help but be at the very least a bit suspicious.

"You’ll have to forgive me, but it’s still hard to believe a gentleman as handsome and polite as you would stop me of all people for small talk." Raising an eyebrow, he gestured towards the other man. "I would imagine you could find better company easily. After all, I’m nothing but a tourist here."

"Hm," a small laugh, barely a breath. He had assumed Terence would be able to tell this wasn't a chance encounter, the kind you read about in sappy novels. "I would've liked today much better if you'd never asked, Mr. D'Arby."

His arms folded themselves and he smirked, his eyes closing as he spoke. "You really are quite handsome. Devilishly so, if I do say so myself. But you're right, I picked you for a very specific reason." his eyes opened again, his chin tilting upwards as he gazed at the other, his smile gone. Play time was over. Now the real game begun. "Stand users don't dress quite subtly, do they? Or, in your case, apply subtle make-up. I simply want to know what a new Stand user is doing here in Naples."

For a moment, he seemed to be lost in thought. Then, regaining himself, he lowered his head again. In a hushed, serious tone, he continued. "Please, Mr. D'Arby, do not try to attack me. The moment I see your Stand, I promise I will split your body in half, right down those curious markings."

Now to see if what he learned from speaking to that one girl was true. Proceeding with a casual tone,

“Grazie. I heard that there’s been some unrest in the city. Gang activity to be specific. Now while I lived on the outskirts of Naples I can’t help but be curious…”

Gang activity...

So he was aware of Bruno's group, and the trouble they had been getting into recently. Whether or not he was a Stand user remained to be seen. Slowly, he gave a nod of his head.

"I can confirm that there has been gang activity recently. Where did you hear of this?"

Dio kept up the civil appearance. The way the other man immediately made eye contact was intriguing, however. Dio’s instincts must be sharp today.

"I used to live there. I was wondering if it was the same old friendly Naples I remember because I have heard some worrying rumors.”

Bucciarati brought his hand back to fold his arms. This Dio character was proving to be more and more interesting. There was something familiar about him as well. Something in the face. Had they met before..?

"Ah, you used to live there. Well, it would be rude of me to deny you updates on your old hometown, wouldn't it? Allow me to confirm or deny those rumors for you, signore."

"A pleasure to meet you, Bucciarati."

A smile spread across Dio’s face as he began to reach out to shake the hand extended towards him. He paused however an instinct telling him not to- that there was more to this man than he knew. Dio withdrew his hand.

“Perdonami, I just remembered something. Do you come from Naples?”

Hm? Bruno's head tilted ever so slightly to the left as he saw the man's hand give pause. Could he be aware of Sticky Fingers..? One of the boss' assassins? He gave a slow nod, his eyes locked with the other's.

"Oh, but the pleasure is all mine, signore. And yes, I come from Naples. Quite a specific area to ask for. May I ask why?"

Another Italian? Been meeting a lot lately..

"Jolyne Kujo, nice to meet you."

That sounded Japanese. Also like that Stephen King movie about the dog. She didn't look like the type to tear off your hands, though.

"Bucciarati. Bruno. The pleasure's all mine, signorina."

Ah, an Italian. Finally he’s encountering some familiar territory.

"I would be glad to oblige. My name is Dio. I know that sounds rather strange to an Italian but I cannot help my parents’ whims."

Dio? God? Ah, but he didn't seem that strange. In fact, the man's aura was almost too welcoming.

"Ah, yes, I see. I'm called Bucciarati, Bruno." his hand found itself extended to shake. A common occurrence for Bruno upon meeting someone, because it meant he could then create zippers on their body.

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