In the residence of Malcolm d'Volvio - 4:36pm
Laying down on his favorite (and only) love seat, Malcolm would take a gracious bite of the apple he was holding in his left hand. He would rub his temple in confusion, not particularly understanding the situation fully at hand. This man, Diavolo, was here a mere few moments ago, and he too, had been affected by the curse that was making every individual vanish from thin air. He would sigh, and quickly, very quickly, grab a fresh fountain pen from his bag. He would draw a sketch of the area he had initially been taken too, that bizarre dreamscape that made him choke when he tried to breath. He would then grab the remote to the television, and tape the missing persons report. To the best of his ability, he would make a tally for every single name that he saw on screen, rewinding the tape in his DVR if necessary.
...
After about 10 minutes of reading names, he would look at his list and sigh in realization. He would count up the tallies he had taken note on. He would turn a page, and another, and another. Over five pages had been filled with tally marks from top to bottom, showing a great indication that this was no regular act of violence... This was the ability of an enemy stand user. He would rub the crease between his eyes and then move his hand to his hair, speaking to himself he said,
"A total of over 1,230 people, and the report continues to drag on." He would look back up at the television, and the names rolled on. He would look at his rough hand he continued to eat the red fruit with. He would take another bite, and stand up, and return the pen and notebook back to their respective places in his backpack.
Malcolm had heard from Diavolo that there was a wide array of power's similar to his own, and at first thought it was a joke, but he now understood what he meant. Malcolm would pop his back and stretch before heading off to find out who had been causing these very odd occurrences. He would stand at the entrance to his door, and extend his arm out to grab and turn the door knob. He would grab his pink rabbit pin, and place it gently on the strap of his school uniform. He would fix up his hair, and then head out the door.
In the city of Florence, Italy - 5:02PM
The sky was a beautiful blue and orange, signifying the soon turning of evening to dawn. Malcolm would take a deep breath of the cool city air, filling his lungs with any determination he could muster. He would look at his watch, and take off the face, and place a very broad note that he had received from his father. He would seemingly pray, and then return the face of the watch back to it's rightful location. He would begin to walk around town asking people if they had heard of the man named Diavolo. Most people said "Yes, he is the general governor of Florence, didn't you know that." Malcolm would ponder what he had heard from the sources he gained. Where...?
This man... I need to pay more attention to local politics... How did the GG of my own city suddenly vanish. He would go to the local pub, and ask anyone
"Have you been to a room where you couldn't breath, and it felt as if you had died?". Every response he received was a confused and negative shake of the head. He would ask the bartender for a glass of milk, and continue to personally interrogate every person at that pub, to get a lead on who may have connections to the cause of the mass of missing people. He would look around for any individual who may help.