The Dying Embers of a Campfire

I'll just casually come back from the dead with some new art for Angelo.

"Master Bluesummers! Uh... What a... pleasant surprise!" Try not to have a heart attack, Angelo. Legato can probably smell fear.

Rowan is... Rowan means a lot to Angelo. His business associate, his teammate. A confident and a skilled fighter in equal parts. The man who made Angelo feel more alive, ironic considering Rowan's parentage. Angelo would die for him and live for him in equal parts. The dhampir makes him see red and makes him feel warm and happy at the same time. The ultimate contradiction. Saddled with music taste more awful than Angelo could ever believe one man to have. As maddening as he is loveable. Love. Angelo felt... He... They are business associates. Inseperable till death does them part. It helps that Rowan's bite is as enjoyable as his bark.

Angelo had been gone for several hours on his 'mission' now. All Rowan had managed to get out of him before he got properly dressed and left their hotel room was 'Request from my boss, shouldn't take too long, be back before our plans' and then he was gone. They were meant to have lunch plans together but Angelo had been gone well past midday at this point, the sky starting to darken into evening. It was a little worrying even. It didn't usually take that long for Angelo to do much of anything, the man was good at what he did. It felt like forever until something of interest had happened, several gasps heard outside of their hotel room, followed by the almost trademark heavy footfalls of his partner in crime. Angelo wasn't exactly quiet. The door handle jostled for a moment before falling still, the man on the otherside cursing under his breath. It was a keycard lock, some... newfangled thing he constantly forgot about. He missed keys. It took several more moments until the door slammed open, a truly ghastly figure shambling through it. Angelo looked a real mess, his usually well-kept long hair a total mess, clumped in places with what was probably dried blood. He hobbled inside, Firestarter's hand grabbing onto the doorframe for support. Blood dripped down from what had to be a cut on his forehead, joining the blood dribbling down from a split lip, both making a mess on his poor suit which was... equally as rough. The red did a lot of the legwork in hiding what were probably the worst parts of his injuries, although dark blood pooled between fingers where he clutched at his side. The poor man looked one step from simply just passing out in the doorway where he stood. "Room service's coming with a medkit, pay the guy more money from my stuff." He muttered, taking another step before his leg buckled and he collapsed down in a bloody heap, Firestarter fading out as he fell. He had made it a step into the room, better than he'd expected.

If you want to chat, brainstorm or whatever I'm much more reachable there than on Tumblr's... inconsistent messaging system.

He went to call out to the Mortician, maybe this was just something they did to the bodies for some reason- Angelo hesitated… What was the guy’s name again? Roman? Rory? Roland? Fuck. “Mortician!” He called out to the still morgue, hoping the Mortician with the name that had to start with Ro-something would hear him! “Something is off with this body.” Firestarter grabbed the sheet once again as Angelo turned to face where Rowan had left, letting his Stand at least cover Jacob’s lower half before Rowan entered. It was the least he could do for his big bro. "I need a second opinion." He stated as the other man entered, not even clicking onto the way Firestarter clutched at his shoulder before slipping into his self and fading away. It was just how Firestarter did things. He doubted Robin was a Stand User anyhow.

"I certainly try to make the red... work with myself." Angelo chuckled quietly, adjusting the tie he wore with a soft, almost awkward chuckle. Midvalley is greeted by the Firedancer's face flushing, the ambient heat around the both of them warming, gently ticking upwards- almost unnoticeable were it not someone so perceptive. "You are certainly more appealing than most of His Guns, I must admit- other than perhaps... the Punisher and Double Fang the others do nothing for me." So matter of fact about it too! "You're at least half-decent after all, Hornfreak~ And you're able to carry a tune wonderfully." He's... still flirting??? This has to be a trick.