![]() Dark pants hugged the long and lithe legs of Cheshire who stopped just a meter away from Marcello. Black tailcoat clinging to his well-built frame, a similar colored black and purple tapestry vest showing the confident puff of his chest as the thief walked forwards. The thief was clad in a Victorian gentleman suit that was a mix of black and royal purples. Straightening his back, the thief shot him a mischievous grin. Still sporting the same smile he greeted Marcello with as the thief clicked his dress shoes together and bowed dramatically at him. He slammed the door open, eyes wide with disbelief when he saw the thief- the Cheshire Cat in the flesh, stand in the middle of the room filled with gems. Only to reel back when he realized the guard was unconscious and the other, more suspiciously clad man, had nodded at him instead with a beaming smile. He expected nothing as he stuck his head in the jewelry room to exchange nods between him and the guard inside, already ducking away with a bored yawn. Marcello shook his head, patting the man's shoulder before moving onwards to the next room. To prove his point, Marcello coughed loudly into his fist when he spotted his companion snoring away, causing the man to jolt awake with slow-blinking eyes. After all, nothing ever occurs in this part of the building. Knowing full well he should stop expecting anything of excitement when you're stuck in one of the most tedious positions in the famiglia. It's been a monotonous day for the young man, having just recently been appointed guard duties to the artifact and jewelry wing with a few other unfortunate men. Checking all the rooms for any suspicious activity or intruders before sighing heavily in disappointment. ![]() The night was still young when Marcello, a minor mafioso of the Costa Famiglia, strolled down the empty hallways.
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