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watchfobjotaro looks at the box in front of him, lip curled in distaste.
leave it to giorno to do something so... decadent, he thinks, flipping open the cardboard lid to reveal a pristine white cheesecake. he knows there's a file inside. he knows hiding contraband in food is cliche because it's easy and it works. but still.
"rich," he says out loud. he doesn't think any guards are around to hear him. "can i get a fucking fork or something in here?" he says louder, kicking against the bars of his cell. the jingling of keys signals the approach of a guard. good.
"you want me to eat this with my hands? like some kind of animal?" he says once the guard appears. the guard levels a stare at him, unimpressed.
"i don't give a shit what you do," the guard says. "you're in here for aggravated assault. seems to me you're good at using your hands, at least according to the guys you put in the hospital. you'll figure it out."
jotaro sucks his teeth. "whatever."
the guard walks back away. jotaro looks back at the box and his mood sours even further at the thought of digging around in the cake with his bare fingers.
"you're gonna hear about this, giovanna," he mutters to himself. he briefly contemplates just smashing it against the ground. it'd be faster, and arguably less messy, on a personal level. it would also be louder, though, probably.
he sighs and tries to break off a piece in the same way one might break bread. he keeps at it until he hits metal. jotaro takes the file between his fingers, holding it loosely as though it'd keep most of the stickiness from him.
giorno stands outside the prison leaning against his car, looking through his social feed. he scrolls idly, double tapping on a post by his niece, one by his fiance. he glances at the clock periodically and taps his foot against the pavement in two minute intervals.
about twenty minutes after he arrived, the sound of sirens fills the air. giorno looks up, quirking an eyebrow in detached interest. he considers putting his phone away, but keeps it in his hand. a minute and a half later and he spots jotaro barreling down the main walk, a scramble of guards shortly behind him.
giorno sucks his teeth. leave it to jotaro to be so... indelicate.
shots crack through the air. jotaro doesn't slow.
the gates begin to close. giorno watches idly as they creak shut, the mechanism churning slowly like they want jotaro to escape. not that it matters much to giorno. he's completing a favor, really, by helping jotaro -- if he didn't love jolyne half as much as he did, he'd have left the man in there.
he's a big guy. he can take care of himself.
giorno sighs and slips his phone into his pocket. he opens the car door and gets in. might as well get ready.
jotaro's still running. he pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it with extreme accuracy -- it wedges itself into a mechanical box and the gate screeches to a halt about two feet apart. giorno supposes that's one way to use the file.
he starts up the car's engine as jotaro clears the gate and hops into the passenger seat. "took you long enough," giorno says.
"maybe if you gave me something more useful," jotaro growls. "or maybe if you'd stuck it in something less messy."
giorno sighs through his nose.
"you have no sense of style."
"whatever."
leave it to giorno to do something so... decadent, he thinks, flipping open the cardboard lid to reveal a pristine white cheesecake. he knows there's a file inside. he knows hiding contraband in food is cliche because it's easy and it works. but still.
"rich," he says out loud. he doesn't think any guards are around to hear him. "can i get a fucking fork or something in here?" he says louder, kicking against the bars of his cell. the jingling of keys signals the approach of a guard. good.
"you want me to eat this with my hands? like some kind of animal?" he says once the guard appears. the guard levels a stare at him, unimpressed.
"i don't give a shit what you do," the guard says. "you're in here for aggravated assault. seems to me you're good at using your hands, at least according to the guys you put in the hospital. you'll figure it out."
jotaro sucks his teeth. "whatever."
the guard walks back away. jotaro looks back at the box and his mood sours even further at the thought of digging around in the cake with his bare fingers.
"you're gonna hear about this, giovanna," he mutters to himself. he briefly contemplates just smashing it against the ground. it'd be faster, and arguably less messy, on a personal level. it would also be louder, though, probably.
he sighs and tries to break off a piece in the same way one might break bread. he keeps at it until he hits metal. jotaro takes the file between his fingers, holding it loosely as though it'd keep most of the stickiness from him.
giorno stands outside the prison leaning against his car, looking through his social feed. he scrolls idly, double tapping on a post by his niece, one by his fiance. he glances at the clock periodically and taps his foot against the pavement in two minute intervals.
about twenty minutes after he arrived, the sound of sirens fills the air. giorno looks up, quirking an eyebrow in detached interest. he considers putting his phone away, but keeps it in his hand. a minute and a half later and he spots jotaro barreling down the main walk, a scramble of guards shortly behind him.
giorno sucks his teeth. leave it to jotaro to be so... indelicate.
shots crack through the air. jotaro doesn't slow.
the gates begin to close. giorno watches idly as they creak shut, the mechanism churning slowly like they want jotaro to escape. not that it matters much to giorno. he's completing a favor, really, by helping jotaro -- if he didn't love jolyne half as much as he did, he'd have left the man in there.
he's a big guy. he can take care of himself.
giorno sighs and slips his phone into his pocket. he opens the car door and gets in. might as well get ready.
jotaro's still running. he pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it with extreme accuracy -- it wedges itself into a mechanical box and the gate screeches to a halt about two feet apart. giorno supposes that's one way to use the file.
he starts up the car's engine as jotaro clears the gate and hops into the passenger seat. "took you long enough," giorno says.
"maybe if you gave me something more useful," jotaro growls. "or maybe if you'd stuck it in something less messy."
giorno sighs through his nose.
"you have no sense of style."
"whatever."
