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Hood Rat

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The man felt nothing within his mind that could help as he wandered, riding atop a powerful stallion at a controlled pace, as to converse as much energy as possible until they had a clear idea of where to go. After all, the very last thing that Diego could recall... well, was his own death. Anytime the man tried to recall what could have placed him in the middle of nowhere and within an unknown time, all he could hear was the barreling roars of a steam engine before mind-shattering pain pierced through his midsection.

"Tch--" Diego Brando placed a hand on his abdomen, as if to check and make sure that everything was still intact. But regardless of the circumstances, the Englishman resolved not to waste anytime. He had to keep moving to see if this was some kind of sick result of Valentine, the Corpse, or even an act of God Himself. And as if by Divine Providence, the inhumanely sharp nose of the blonde picked up a new scent.

Another human.

@CrunchyCHEEZIT
 
Truth be told, Giorno Giovanna has always wanted to visit America.

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The vast, sun-bleached plains of the great American west were truly a sight to behold. The rural aesthetic may have thrown the boy's city-built senses for a loop, but there weren't many locations in all of Italy - let alone all of Europe - that could compare to the strangely nostalgic look of America's rolling hills and dusty, beaten crossroads leading off to ever more scenic locales. Perhaps the 'freedom' that this country clings to is embodied by how empty and free it's land is.

Especially when it exists in a time long before the existence of. . .well, roads, highways, and shady gas stations. A time vastly different than what the young master of Passione was used to. Indeed, the truth is that Giorno Giovanna was very, very far from home. The golden-haired boy was trekking across a beaten dirt road winding across the plains to seemingly nowhere as his purpose for being here returned to the fore of his mind.

Ever since Giorno Giovanna had crossed paths with what he recognized as Dio Brando during his unwilling foray into new realities, he couldn't quite escape the thoughts about his own family that began to fester in his psyche like a cancer. Giorno did not pride himself in many things, but the one memento he carried on within his spirit from the early days of Passione was his focus, and now even that has been taken away from him with these damn thoughts.

To Giorno Giovanna, life was a series of paths; those winding, golden paths that only those of great resolve and ambition can hope to follow. The purpose of living in his eyes was to achieve a status of power and respect that is built on 'truth'. Those good people who are truly just will find within themselves the resolve to make their dreams come true. Those who are superficial and live only from moment to moment find themselves trapped in an endless cycle of suffering borne from their own malice.

Climb to the top by being real, or fall from being fake.

Perhaps this ideology is what drew Giorno to what he thought would be his true father. Someone who does not live superficially, or act on the principle of wiping away their fears. Someone who is of strong heart and ambitious. Someone that Giorno can look up to, and call his father.

What Giorno Giovanna got instead was what he actually wanted, but did not wish to admit; the truth.

A vision. . .of true evil.

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A blackened heart that can only belong to a man who has devoured any scrap of humanity left in himself. He who lives only to take things from others - not to give or to rightfully inherit, but to take. Taking lives, taking livelihoods, taking futures, taking hope, taking blood. He who gives anything back but a dark reign of suffering and pain. Just taking, and taking, and taking from everyone and everything until he can live without fear. Whether that means subjugating his enemies or killing them is left up to his own inhumane machinations.

That is what Dio Brando was - or rather, this is what Dio Brando is, because he's still alive.

And he seeks to become nothing less than a God.

Giorno's nails nearly drew blood from his palms from how hard his fists clenched at the thought alone. The greatest of dreams can fall to the worst of despairs, it seems. Now all that is left in the boy's mind is a desperate yearning that he wished he couldn't acknowledge.

But he has to. The fire in his eyes when he described the plan to Ollerus indicated that.

I need to know that there's something left to salvage from all this. A version of some kind that has some semblance of true humanity left. That there is a reality out there where my father is not the devil. A reality where I'm not the prodigy of a monster.

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. . .because I, Giorno Giovanna, have a dream. I will find him.


Giorno nodded to himself, and continued walking down the path. Just as he continued walking for a couple more minutes, Giorno suddenly heard a steady beat growing louder, as if it was approaching from behind him. Was it someone running towards him? No, it cant be; it sounds too heavy to be human feet. If it's not that, could it be. . .a horse?

Silver Bullet's rushing reached it's peak once the golden-haired jockey picked up on the scent of another person, just in time for Giorno to turn around. As his eyes registered a man sitting atop a horse in distance, a sharp feeling shot up the boys spine like a tingle; that same tingle that he felt once he laid eyes upon Jolyne.

That feeling again. Could this man be. . .?!


Diego's senses would flare once more as he could pick up on a person slowly approaching him; a boy with golden hair, wearing a strange foreign uniform. The boy stopped a few feet away from the mounted jockey, meeting eyes with him. There was a silence between the two that could last for eons, but suddenly Giorno's lips moved hesitantly.

". . .Are you Dio Brando?"

@Hood Rat
 
At that moment, it was like time had simply... stopped for Diego. All of his senses were burning, his 6th screaming the loudest with every step that this boy took, his figure absolutely obvious when compared to the vast, rolling American plains he had grown accustomed to during his time in the Steel Ball Run.

And this boy that approached... it wasn't danger that fueled Diego's caution towards him. No, no... or perhaps it was? Whatever the man felt was something absolutely new. He had never met the fellow blonde before in his life, yet his body ached. His mind throbbed. Every sensation told him that they had seen one another, as if Diego once dreamt of him and long forgotten the events. But despite the absolute feelings of unease coursing through him, Diego Brando remained... controlled.

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"..."

Despite beads of sweat trickling along his brow- that could easily be accredited to the burning sun overhead- the Englishman's gaze maintained their stillness, following the boy's approaching body with their stoic, cerulean hues. And as for the body, Diego remained hunched over atop of his paused Silver Bullet, the fine beast who had picked up on his master's caution through simply the manner in which he gripped the reins.

Finally, the boy came to a stop at a distance that... was dangerously close enough for either of them to jump into action. If this brat was a Stand User, he could have very well just reached his range requirements. Fortunately, Diego a hand ready by his gun, his tight sweater bulging out in certain spots, as the rat-sized raptors he kept on his person as scouts prepared to launch out as soon as their master issued a silent command.

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"...!"

There were no words offered for the alarming question that the boy posed. No matter what their connection was, a life of battle had raised all of Diego's flags, triggering a startling transformation. Within the next second, Silver Bullet started to hiss, his entire body becoming that of a raptor of terribly significant size and strength. And upon the transformed-stallion's back remained Brando, his fingers sharpening into hellishly sharp claws, teeth becoming jagged fangs, and a tail sprouting from his lower back.

"'Dio' is just a nickname. A shortening of my full one, boy. Now you have exactly a single breath to explain who you are and how you know my name. Else you can ask God for the mercy I refused you before I sent you to him."

Even if he was irrational, Diego had yet to fully interpret the alarming connection he had with this one before him, registering it all as potential danger. If he had died once before, he was not going to do so again...!

@CrunchyCHEEZIT
 
As Giorno drew closer to the horse-mounted man, the tingling that shot up and down and across his body intensified to become a vibrant smorgasbord of sensations that threatened to shatter the boy's calm attitude into a million pieces. He could recount this specific sensation quite clearly; it was as if Giorno Giovanna had always known that man that sat atop the horse, but something more than that.

It was more like when he first laid eyes upon his own father.

Giorno's teeth grit beneath his tightly-closed lips. His body felt like it was going to freeze over despite the intense heat cooking him in his own uniform. A sudden, dreadful sensation of utter powerlessness threatened to suck away all confidence in the boy's fingers as he locked eyes with the man, who was now close enough for Giorno to see the golden hair flowing beneath his hat and - more troubling - the garish cracks that began to open across his lips in time for the horse he was riding upon to undergo a swiftly mutate into some giant reptile creature--

No - not just a big lizard. It's a. . .dinosaur?

". . .?!"


Giorno's eyes became visibly urgent as the man made an alarming transformation, the caution in his feet instinctively moving him back a couple of steps. It was no doubt some type of Stand ability, but one that was nowhere near anything the young mob boss had encountered in and outside of Italy. He couldn't hope to apply his own understanding of Stands to this man's ability, but he'd have to do that. . .if they were to fight.

The boy's mind suddenly steeled over as his purpose returned to him.

I, Giorno Giovanna, have a dream that I know is just. I will find him.

. . .This is him. This it it.


The resolve that returned to Giorno's eyes was palpable.

"Hm."

"Gold Experience."

The boy stood straight and calmly stared down the creature and it's master, who issued a demand of the boss' name and his purpose for being here. Giorno Giovanna began a confident stride towards the man who he believed to be his target, and as he did so, a vibrant and brilliant light suddenly coalesced around his entire body, which would throw Diego's instincts into action; it was a Stand.

The gold-colored energy shifted forward from its user and stopped, finally manifesting into its physical appearance.

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"That is quite the interesting ability you have there, though you've made a terrible first impression. You're prepared for conflict. If you're so prepared and eager to kill an innocuous stranger, that means in turn, you're always prepared for the possibility and danger of being suddenly killed yourself. Do I have that right?"


The boy spoke calmly and confidently, defying the fear that the man before him may usually instill within his victims. Still, the tension, caution and disbelief bubbling in the back of his throat was going to be problem.

"My name is Giorno Giovanna. I'm here because I am searching for a man named Dio Brando, because. . ." he paused, blinking a few times and darting his eyes to the ground. Did he really find him? Did this man - this creature - fit the bill? It was a bizarre feeling, but. . .

He has to do this.

"Because he is my father."

@Hood Rat
 
The overly cautious Englishman seemed to essentially twitch at the sight of the boy's Stand, the brilliant, golden form manifesting itself between them, displaying a humanoid form. If Diego had to guess, the Stand- who he assumed was called Gold Experience- was possibly a power type, having a limited range of many 1-2 meters while the the types of secondary abilities it may have were still unknown. Far too risky to simply jump in.

Thankfully, the younger blonde was content with running his mouth, allowing Diego to slip out some of his raptors from underneath his sweater, each of the small creatures sneaking along the side of their master and his steed out of Giorno's view, digging their ways underground to prepare an assault.

But although the older of the two didn't care for answering Giorno's first set of statements, it was... it was that final revelation that made those cerulean hues widen with shock.

A... A lie. A damn lie to lower my guard. And from the way he spoke, I know I can snuff this brat out...!!

Such thoughts ran through the blonde's mind, yet his body ached. Whatever unnatural feeling was coursing through him seemed... somehow validated? Yes, it seemed to confirm the words spoken by the younger male, like the final piece of a puzzle had been set.

"...And?" Diego finally answered back, his underground soldiers continuing their dig, refusing to launch out unless their master willed it. "You must realize that I, personally, cannot be THAT Dio of which you speak. I'm not quite old enough to have a... a teenager as a son. If what you say is true... then you are a son of mine in this alternative world from my own, the Main World..." There was a pause before Diego spoke again, brows furrowed in deep thought, even if his guard hadn't dropped an inch.

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"'Giovanna'? What is that? No son of mine would ever dare to abandon the name of Brando. The name of my mother. Or... just what kind of man is the 'Me' that you know?"

@CrunchyCHEEZIT
 
The sudden shift in the jockey's facial expression was all that Giorno needed to confirm his suspicions. That revelation was clear to have some impact on the man, indicating to the boy that the man standing before him had some past that led him to this point. The Don Giovanna would normally be pleased to be in a position of power like this - being able to read an opponent like an open book. However. . .in this situation, there was no balance of power.

Just as Diego was confused and skeptical, Giorno struggled with the denial in himself.

This man. . .is he truly my father from another timeline? I must find more info to give him proof. . .and a reason not to kill me.

Giorno had his body positioned in a way so that Gold Experience was covering the open space between his legs and arms - so that Diego should not be able to see directly behind the boy. With that in mind, Giorno kept his eyes locked to Diego as subtly scuffed his foot against a pile of small rocks directly behind himself, silently knocking them over. As he did so, a mucous-like membrane enveloped the minuscule stones, forming a bubble that briefly initiated the rocks within to mutate and take on new forms - moles.

The newly-created lifeforms scuttled out to Giorno's silent command, digging into the ground behind Giorno and burrowing through to form a small perimeter immediately surrounding the boy. Moles typically have incredibly poor eyesight, but they make up for this by possessing tremor-sense - the ability to detect vibrations in the earth surrounding them. As if the creatures' senses were his own, Giorno could make out a number of vibrations trembling through ground from where Diego and his raptor stood, rapidly approaching him and then suddenly diverting around him; as if there was something in the ground surrounding the boy, preparing for an ambush.

Giorno seemed ready to retaliate against the coming ambush at any time, but when the man before him suddenly spoke about his present - perhaps, his true father - the boy suddenly froze like a corpse.

He opened his mouth to speak, but realized that words would mean nothing without evidence. The mafioso reached into his uniform and withdrew a wallet, opening it and retrieving what looked like an incredibly ancient photograph. With nothing but a look to Diego, the boy tossed the photograph across the distance between the two - either allowing Diego to catch it or for it to fall to the ground in front of him.

And what was depicted on the photo was a name.

DIO BRANDO

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The photo was of poor quality and seemed to be hastily taken by some archaic ability in an incredibly dark place, but one could very clearly make out a figure standing in the center of the photo - a tall, muscular man with pale skin facing away from the camera, showing off a head of long, flowing blonde hair. The way his neck was craned made it impossible to see the stitch-marks surrounding the neck, but what was most clear to Diego was the purple, star-shaped birthmark displayed clearly on his back.

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"The man in that photograph is my father. One who has achieved immortality, stole the body of a Joestar, and impregnated the woman that would become my mother before vanishing without a trace and leaving me to be raised by scum. One who has consumed the blood of countless humans across his centuries of existence in an effort to become a god.

"This man is currently seeking to become a God of every reality - yours and mine. And I've made it my goal to kill him. Every instance of this man that exists."

". . .And this man, Dio Brando, is you from another universe."

"And I. . .I, Giorno Giovanna, am your son from an alternate universe."

"And I've come here to see how similar to this man you truly are."


@Hood Rat

 
Something still wasn't... sitting quite right. Despite his own trap being set, the inhumanly sharp senses of Diego's warned him of a possible counter already being in the works. And though his posture and composure never once lost their sense of control, that incredibly sharp nose of the transformed blonde picked up on something...

Like... some rodent?

Indeed, the sudden smell in the air served as a warning sign. He could neither see nor smell any such creature scamper along from the distance, meaning that whatever caught Diego's nose must have just sprouted right away. Undoubtedly an affect of the younger one's Stand, and the fact that their scent soon left the air also meant that they were probably the burrowing type. Ferrets? Rats? Moles? Either way, he had to assume that coming into contact with the creatures could spell danger, just like his own raptors. So for now, Diego instructed his soldiers to avoid coming into contact with those other creatures, leaving the master with the truly heavy work.

After a few seconds of staring down Giorno and listening to him, Diego's eyes caught the picture being thrown his way. Effortlessly, he caught the picture, his brows knitting at the center as he realized just what he was looking at. And if he was to take everything the boy was saying afterwards as factual...

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"A fairly gaudy fuck, isn't he?"

Diego suddenly spoke aloud once Giorno finished listing off his goals, a scoff leaving those lips.

"Though his build his admirable, too dramatic to take such a man seriously. And I'm not sure what the hell kind of abilities he has to live for such a long time, but I don't care.


Listen close, boy,"


Diego snapped the photograph back to Giorno's direction, his voice barking through the open air.

"So he wants to become God, then? A bit too lofty, even for me. But trust me, child, when I say I have no such desires."

Holding out a clawed hand, the bestial man slowly closed it into a tight fist, grinning towards the younger blonde.

"I of all people know of the God watching us from Heaven. And for the misdeeds He has thrown in my way, I'll happily spit in His face once I climb every social ladder there is in this world. All people will know, fear, and revere me, until the very name of my mother becomes synonymous with 'Perfection'. That is the destiny of the Brandos, and all interlopers will be properly humiliated, or even snuffed out. Now, are you looking for that fight, still? Because family that would turn on me is even worse than the usual scum that is man. They are a walking Judas that I must burn down personally."
 
Gold Experience's hand flew upward to catch the photograph out of the air, returning it to Giorno's wallet without even a flinch in the boy's expression. The Italian boss sighed, crossing his arms and giving Diego the spotlight as he went on about his true goals and ambitions. After all, Giorno had already run his mouth quite a bit since he got here. However, as the Englishman's spiel began winding down into the pits of his true beliefs - his vision of humanity - Giorno's nonchalant expression melted into a concerned stare.

. . .He's not too different from him, is he?

Am I truly the prodigy of these men?

. . .No. There has to be more. This man is not as monstrous as he seems!


Giorno simply shook his head in response Diego's spiel. "Misdeeds done to you? Hm. . ."

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"Forgive me, for I am not as pious as you to believe that there is a God binding us all to a series of unchangeable fates. The key to gaining a status of power over others is 'truth' and 'resolve'. To set a dream in place, and walk that path until you've claimed what you've set out to do. Humans can only 'live without fear' when they have the will and resources to achieve those dreams. Otherwise. . .they lie to themselves and they lie to those around them, rendering their efforts. . ."


"Useless, useless, useless."


The young blonde stood proudly, giving off and aura of boundless ambition that could rival the malice emanating from that photograph.

". . .So, I ask you this, my other-father; is your goal to achieve Perfection based in truth? Or does this ambition only exist until it ceases to be convenient? What 'misdeeds' have been done to you to make you this way? Perhaps we can simply talk about this instead of killing each other, if you'd like."

"If not, ah. . ." Giorno reached into his back pocket, withdrawing a long, thin object that looked like an ornate arrow cast in gold. "I can offer you a battle that you have no chance of winning."


@Hood Rat

 
The way the brat spoke about him in regards to faith, it... it simply took Diego aback. Pious? HIM? What the hell could the boy possibly be--

"Haha... fuahahahaha!"

All of a sudden, the stoic and murderous demeanor Diego had been giving off seemed to meld into something different. Much of it remained, but now with a smile and laugh that rang out, as if Giorno had said something hilarious.

"That's... that's right, haha... THAT thing is not in this world, is it? Indeed, it could only exist in the Main World. So someone like you has yet to see such definitive proof."

With a cocky little grin on his face, a gloved and razor sharp index finger pointed towards Giorno, with the bestial Diego himself ready to answer all of his questions and points in one go. Though... that Arrow that was presented... it seemed to give off a type of 'pressure' that was familiar to It.

"Trust me, child, I'm no priest. I myself always thought that God simply didn't exist. I thought that way since the day my mother... your true grandmother... was ripped from the living world cruelly and slowly, all because she wished to do all she could for her only child."

The very last of Diego's little chuckles finally faded, his head tilted back as if he could see the Kingdom of Heaven Itself beyond those clouds overhead.

"But, would you believe it? I saw, smelled, and touched physical proof of God and His existence. For in my world, that were objects that... gave off similar feelings like that little Arrow of yours, boy. They were 'Pieces' of a 'Body'. And that Body was of Christ Himself. And on that day, I truly realized that I had been wrong all along. God has always been among us. He created us all in His image and likeness, as the good book says. So..."


The head slowly fell back to level ground. Back towards Giorno. Away from lofty Heaven and onto the rough realities of the Earth around them.

"...how could such a God- who truly exists- make Man in such a manner?"

Eyes once dancing with bright, cocky, and jovial colors seemed to dull and flatten, just as old scars were resurfacing.
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"We are made in His image, and this is the result? God and His similar creations allowed a single woman without a penny to her name... a woman who worked and battered both body and mind to death for the sake of making sure her son could live... they all allowed, encouraged, and caused her suffering. One person trying to do good was met with only cruelty and spite in return. And these observations of mind only continued as I grew, child. Once I began making a life for myself through my skills alone, the faces of repulsive scorn and evil only grew more frequent around me. None wanted to do good by me because of love or concern. Money. Influence. Connections. In their core, humanity has not stepped a foot beyond the Stone Age. That's why I chose the path I walk."

With a hand outstretched, Diego finally came to the conclusion of his long winded but long-grown explanation for the ways of his life.

"If humanity wishes to conduct themselves as pigeons, then fine. I shall lead the mindless flock, but not kill them like some psychotic monster. I will climb the very tallest of the of social ladders and become that image of Perfection. The True Example of it, boy! And in doing so, I will show God Himself the folly of His creation known as Man...before enjoying the rest of my life of leisure. With... with those very few I can love and teach to be so... so much better than normal, corruptible humans. My mother... your grandmother... the world will know and be forced to accept that her suffering was unjustified as her legacy rises."
 
...

...

This man.

He is completely insane.

...but, why?

Why do I admire him?


Giorno couldn't find the words as he listened to Diego's mad tangent. It wasn't even any kind of psychotic rambling - it was a declaration to the Kingdom of Heaven Itself, a solemn promise to lash out against the misfortune that has befallen this man. Giorno Giovanna frequently gave out long, arduous speeches because he wished for everyone to understand his meaning in one go, so that he wouldn't have to repeat himself. He never bluffed, and it is easy to tell when he is lying and when he is making a promise. Though, he does drop lies very frequently - and a frequent liar knows how to pick up on the lies of others.

But the declaration of Perfection that Diego Brando has made is no lie. It is exactly that - a declaration, and a promise. There was no superficiality that could be traced in his words, as each them struck Giorno's heart and mind with unrelenting viciousness. This was exactly what Giorno sought; this was a version of this father that was... truthful, and honest about his dark ambition. There is a method to his evil... but then again, it's naive to call such a thing 'evil' when, in truth, men go to any length to achieve their ambitions.

He is similar to that man - that imposter - but his... ambition! His resolve.

His will to push onward.


"... Ha."

"Hahahahaha."

A subtle laugh escaped the boy's lips, his head tilted downward and looking at his shoes. Slowly, his head tilted upward to meet Diego's eyes, revealing a sly smirk painted across his son's face. Immediately, it looked as if he was planning something. But, upon closer inspection, he was... happy? The space between the two of them was still quite vast, and their respective Stands were still primed and ready to clash; Gold Experience still hung in the air with raised fists, and the large horse-raptor of Scary Monsters stood next to Diego, snarling.

"I apologize... but I am so happy, I couldn't help but laugh."


The chuckles faded as did Giorno's smile, returning to a flat and stony expression of resolve. "This feeling... of being able to understand the motivations of my father. Even before I met him, I believed there was some reason to him leaving me to be raised by... filth... so many years ago. And after I met him, I clung to the foolish thought that his act of bravado and careless evil was some facade, and that he would accept me after the battle was done. And after that, I thought... there was to be some version of this man that is not a coward. That isn't a mere child daudling at power, and once I learned that he was still alive and is now threatening the reality that both you and I exist in... I thought there was no hope."


"But here you are. I finally... understand. I understand you, Diego Brando, my father."

"You have a dream. I had a dream like that, once. The only person who had ever shown honesty in my childhood was a gangster - a criminal. Could you believe that?" Giorno spoke softly, as if the old scars of his own began to resurface. They seemed more like nostalgic memories than scars, however. "After that, I had a dream to become a gangster. What kind of child dreams to become a criminal? Well... I suppose we all have our paths to follow."


"I traveled that path with allies. People who were equals of mine, because they weren't like these pigeons you describe. Few as they may be, they were honest people. Good people. My closest friends. We clawed our way to the top of the mafia. I personally killed for it, even. I did not hold back any punches. It wasn't until I had thrown that bloody corpse off the bridge that I understood the meaning of inheritance."

"That which is inherited from the lost must be carried on wards. It could be a physical object..." Giorno glanced down at the Arrow clutched in his palm, "... or it could be the lessons taught to us by others," he glanced back up to Diego, striking a chord between the two Brandos.


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"...before I ask you to come with me, I'd like to know if we truly understand each other."

@Hood Rat
 
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