019
[Firo stands at his work table, which currently stands itself behind the theater. He's staring at sets of powders and liquids, each measured out carefully, labeled, put in little stone jars or archaically designed bottles; several give off the occasional shimmer, though it could just be a trick of the light. He braces his hands against he table, staring at nothing, apparently lost in thought.]
[[This would be Firo, wondering whether or not he should compromise his moral sensibilities and make a batch of immortal-juice for the sake of the remaining Camorra members who aren't immortal themselves.]]
[[This would be Firo, wondering whether or not he should compromise his moral sensibilities and make a batch of immortal-juice for the sake of the remaining Camorra members who aren't immortal themselves.]]