That's me. [Literally toxic and fatal within moments of being ingested. Giorno doesn't really seem to see the humor in his username, though.] But Fugo works too. What about you? I assume hunting's a profession, not your name.
[Fugo approaches the door and examines it. He jiggles the handle, measures it with his hand, and presses his fingers in the seam between the door to get a feel for how wide it is. The door's made of sterner stuff than a hotel room; a credit card won't be enough to jiggle it open, and the seam is too narrow for a butterknife. But that's fine. That's why he made a quick stop into a crafting store. Fugo shrugs his bag off of his shoulders, crouches down to the floor and pulls out ... a marker, a pair of scissors, and a roll of thin but stiff plastic, which he unrolls on the floor.]
no subject
[Fugo approaches the door and examines it. He jiggles the handle, measures it with his hand, and presses his fingers in the seam between the door to get a feel for how wide it is. The door's made of sterner stuff than a hotel room; a credit card won't be enough to jiggle it open, and the seam is too narrow for a butterknife. But that's fine. That's why he made a quick stop into a crafting store. Fugo shrugs his bag off of his shoulders, crouches down to the floor and pulls out ... a marker, a pair of scissors, and a roll of thin but stiff plastic, which he unrolls on the floor.]