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Diavolo was stalking through the wide, somewhat crowded streets of an unfamiliar city, the roads fenced in by overly garish buildings. He scowls whenever a stranger attempts to approach him, and ducks down the nearest side alley as soon as possible to get away from all the annoying, loud people.
As he stomps down the much quieter, kind of grimy, secluded alley, unbeknownst to the former mafia boss, a pair of round, bronzey-coppery colored eyes have begun to follow his movements. A long, thin black tail swishes from side to side.
Diavolo eventually stops in a small park like space, sitting down on an empty bench. The sun is slowly beginning to set, and he can hear, as well as smell, the sea.
He wonders, a little absently, how Giorno Giovanna will end up killing him this time.
Suddenly, from next to him at ground level, there is a very loud, insistent "MYYEAROW!"
And a reasonably large, skinny looking cat with very floppy skin hops up onto the bench next to Diavolo, and begins to Stare at him.
Taken by surprise, all the disgruntled watermelon haired man can do is stare back at the hairy ambusher, and its' big, round, strangely menacing coppery eyes.
The cat's fur is white, with fat, black splotches on its' head, shoulders, and one huge one from the middle of it's back all the way to the tail. It's fur is just fluffy enough to create the illusion of very chubby cheeks.
It continues to Stare, but now the wide eyed gaze is one of distinct approval and... ownership?
It begins to purr, climbing up onto Diavolo and giving him a gentle headbutt. The message is clear. 'You are MY human now'.
Diavolo, still very confused, reaches up and gently scratches behind the cat's ears. This pleases it. The cat purrs even louder.
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Some time later...
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The cat, who Diavolo now knows to be named Beebo, meowls sharply and reproachfully at him, as it leads him along a sand coated path beside a beach.
He has found out, since meeting his strange, hairy companion, that he is in Australia, that a concerningly large percentage of the local wildlife is both ready and willing to kill him, and that Beebo apparently does have owners, though he has not met them.
Beebo's chubby feet go pit-pat-pit-pat on the pavement of the path, as he almost waddles along ahead of Diavolo.
"....alright, alright. I'm following you, you hairy weasel." The ex-don grumbles, continuing to follow his bewhiskered leader.
Eventually, Beebo leads Diavolo to a small, slightly rickety looking wooden jetty, with a fairly nice looking boat seemingly left abandoned bobbing gently in the water at it's end. The cat toddles out to sit on the jetty beside the craft, and gives Diavolo a distinctly smug look.
Carefully, making sure the surface is secure beneath him, Diavolo walks out after the cat. "...I see. Thank you, Beebo."
The cat in question chirrups, and recieves scritches for its efforts.
Giving a cursory glance around to check they are not being watched, and seemingly finding no one else around, Diavolo begins attempting to board the small boat.
Suddenly, he realises, as he begins to feel the edge of the boat slide away from the jetty.
The boat wasn't tethered properly.
With a loud shout, a KER-SPLASH, and a few bubbles, the unfortunate man fell into the deep, dark water.
Even more unfortunately, before he could even start to try to head for the surface, Diavolo met the water's nastiest inhabitant.
A bullshark.
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As the strange man with the watermelon hair splashed and flailed and tried to escape the angry sea creature, another person stepped lightly out onto the aging boards of the jetty.
"Heyyyy, mister Beebo-boy!" They called, smiling sleepily.
"What might you be doing?"
Beebo turned its head from where it had been sadly watching the end of the cat's new favourite friend, and mrrped up at the tall, long limbed other. It stood, and patter-pitted over, loudly demanding cuddles.
Big, gentle hands with bitten-short nails and a few small scars carefully scooped the cat up, cradling it in their arms like a loaf of sentient, somewhat irate bread.
Beebo's owner glanced over the edge of the jetty, having arrived too late to see what befell Diavolo, greeted only with the sight of a few scraps of stained fabric bobbing in the red tinged water.
"Oh. Never mind, then."
And with that, the tall, short haired owner of Beebo carefully slid their glasses back up their nose, as they had begun to slide off, turned, and simply calmly walked away, the cat still a peaceful loaf of bread shape in their arms. As they turned off into the trees, along a seperate pathway, a large, seethrough cat-like creature in a blanket appeared at their side, with a deep, sonorous mrow.
"Yeah, I know, Drowsy. I'll buy you the stupid icecream."
It vanishes again, and Beebo and it's odd owner walk out of sight.