Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-30744559-20190323172117/@comment-27344811-20190324203554

Meanwhile, Prociutto had ended up in the station.

Trains... the memories they brought him. Not only is being smashed between the many wheels of the train incredibly painful... the experience taught him something.

The explosion rouses him from his relfaction.

"So a Stand User did bring us here. The Grateful Dead!" Prosciutto declares as the Grateful Dead lumbers out from behind him.

Lewis didn't care he was out in the open. Yes, he was a fucking fire spirit, what does it matter? He may as well be seen as a monster... and then he notices the Café. He pauses, slowly tightening his fists, before his sockets flat out spew flames and he screams in a mix of angst and blood-curling rage, causing an exposion of magenta fire to blast around him.

Amazingly, the structures are unharmed by the flames.