The man could snap and bark all he wanted but from the brief look that Sybella got of him, he certainly wasn’t going more than a half a step from the place that Basil had forced him down onto. He sounded rather determined though, so she threw a “Basil don’t let him get up.” over her shoulder as she waved her wand and went carelessly riffling through the correspondence on the table. Each roll of parchment unfurled in front of her enough for her to scan and discard; che cazzo this friend of Basil’s seemed to be into some highly unsavory things.
Basil’s plea reached her not soon after she’d gotten through half of what was on the desk. Muttering in Italian, the witch picked up the pace, her wand twirling through the air as she went through the correspondences and whatever artifacts had accompanied them. Thankfully the man seemed to keep rather detailed ledgers, but unfortunately it seemed that he hadn’t gotten to the marjority of the stuff on the desk…which meant the stuff she was riffling through was extremely not up to date.
“I’m hurrying, I promise,” She called, forcing herself to keep calm despite the extremely worrying sound of coughing coming from the room. But out of the corner of her eye, something made her stop dead, so suddenly that the parchment in front of her dropped to the ground.
It was a black card with velvet lining that she would recognize anywhere. “Cazzo, Luca,” she hissed, immediately summoning the card in front of her. She didn’t need to squint as it zoomed towards her to know what was on the front: A beggar, holding out a bowl with one hand - chained to a cinder block by the other.
Miseria.
Panic burst through her chest. A curse-breaking diagnostic spell revealed a pattern of curses and hexes she was far too familiar with. In a few quick seconds, the witch rendered the card inert and snatched it out of the air before hurrying to Basil. “Basil!” She tried to keep the urgency out of her voice as she searched his person for any sign of distress. “You didn’t touch this, did you? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”
Basil’s plea reached her not soon after she’d gotten through half of what was on the desk. Muttering in Italian, the witch picked up the pace, her wand twirling through the air as she went through the correspondences and whatever artifacts had accompanied them. Thankfully the man seemed to keep rather detailed ledgers, but unfortunately it seemed that he hadn’t gotten to the marjority of the stuff on the desk…which meant the stuff she was riffling through was extremely not up to date.
“I’m hurrying, I promise,” She called, forcing herself to keep calm despite the extremely worrying sound of coughing coming from the room. But out of the corner of her eye, something made her stop dead, so suddenly that the parchment in front of her dropped to the ground.
It was a black card with velvet lining that she would recognize anywhere. “Cazzo, Luca,” she hissed, immediately summoning the card in front of her. She didn’t need to squint as it zoomed towards her to know what was on the front: A beggar, holding out a bowl with one hand - chained to a cinder block by the other.
Miseria.
Panic burst through her chest. A curse-breaking diagnostic spell revealed a pattern of curses and hexes she was far too familiar with. In a few quick seconds, the witch rendered the card inert and snatched it out of the air before hurrying to Basil. “Basil!” She tried to keep the urgency out of her voice as she searched his person for any sign of distress. “You didn’t touch this, did you? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.