June 20th, 1895 — Hogsmeade Hospital, Artifacts Ward

If he was being honest, Sylvano probably belonged in a hospital. Still dressed for a voyage, hair cut too long-- or, more accurately, not cut at all-- and yet unshaven. He had no visible injuries, no malady to which he could put a name, but six months did not simply pass without recollection. Not even in his line of work. There was the cavern. The crumbling ruin within and a voice carried in the wind like snow, and-- well, nothing. That was the trouble, wasn't it? Sylvano and his crew allowed themselves to laugh at it, because the alternative did no good for anyone, but yes. He should most definitely have been in a hospital room. Not walking the halls with the swagger of a man too long gone to sea, following the direction of a very frazzled looking receptionist in search of one Sybella Capobianco.

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The day had been boring.

Oh sure, Sybella had been called out to a couple sites where people had been nearly done in by cursed artifacts, but after those were quickly seen to, the day had died down and Sybella actually had time to catch up on some paperwork.

A treat for her, obviously, which she acted accordingly by avoiding it and looking in on some of the work the interns were doing instead. It was only when Sybella was helping one of the younger female intern healers that something - interesting happened. She caught Miss Aylesworthy looking over her shoulder, her cheeks suddenly ablaze and mesmerized, and even before Sybella turned around, she knew there was really only one person who could garner that reaction.

She whipped around, her eye catching the dashing pirate-like figure walking swiftly in her direction and looking equally lost, but of course as if he’d gotten lost on purpose.

“Sylvano!” She had shouted his name before she could stop herself, and got up to march towards him. As she did so, she passed one of the interns who caught her expression and provided a rather perceptive commentary of: “I know that face. That face is not his friend…”

  

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Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

Sylvano knew that tone-- knew exactly what he was in for-- and if he were a better man perhaps it would have given him pause, but Sylvano was not a better man. He answered his sister's outrage with a crooked grin, opened his arms by way of greeting, kept walking. He had been accused in the past of approaching a delayed return as though he were some sort of hero. It was not unfounded.

"Sybella!" he answered, just as loud but gleeful. "mia regina, look at you! So beautiful in your element," Sylvano gestured around at the hospital, and the many eyes now watching them. He did not miss the blush-- nor the alarm in the eyes of some of Sybella's precious interns. Oh yes, he knew what was coming. He'd known since they set off from that snowy hell to return home, but Sylvano never backed down from a challenge. "Tell me, how many lives have you saved today?"

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“Che ci fai qui?!” Sybella hissed as she stalked up to him. At his welcoming gesture, Sybella wanted to both hurl herself into her twin’s arms and slap him across the face. She scowled at him. Away with his pretty words! She hated when she called her ‘regina’; it was only when he wanted to cajole her into a less violent response that he employed the word.

Instead of slapping him across the face or hugging him, Sybella settled on swatting his hand down, continuing in rapid-fire Italian. “Why haven’t I heard a sound from you in the past few months? Do you know how worried I’ve been Sylvano?”

  

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Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

Sybella slapped Sylvano's hand down, and he raised it again, this time with both palms out as though that would serve to placate her at all. His grin hadn't slipped. It really never did, more performance for those watching from the sidelines than anything. How many, he wondered, knew him to be Sybella's twin? How many knew he'd disappeared on her for months without a word, lost an expedition into a snowy wasteland from which he might never return? Sylvano would wager a small handful knew the family verged on considering him dead before he reappeared.

"To visit you, sweet sister," he answered, in Italian and just as quickly as she. "We had a ah-- shall we say a mishap on the journey? All of us, stranded! In the deepest snow I have ever seen, by the way. It went higher than my head! You should have seen it." At least, that was the part Sylvano could remember. All of them waking up in their tents and having to dig a grave to escape them, hauling off toward the ruin at a literal crawl as they tried not to break through the snowdrifts too deeply, and then--

Nothing. Not until they stood upon the cliffs overlooking the moored Delight.

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Sybella Capobianco

  

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