7th Stand User: A Wonderful World

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Chapter 8: Hora!
"Let's just leave this guy to his thing," you grunt at Kakyoin, having Flashdance stand down. "Who knows how many genuine enemies there are in town, we don't need to make unnecessary ones."

He huffs, but sighs. "Yes, I'd prefer not to be judge, jury, or executioner, let alone all three. Let's just go and meet up with the others."

You nod. Ouch.

As you turn away the man lets out a bitter chuckle. "Smart move, brats." Your pride chafes a bit, but not enough to make you consider changing your mind.

It's hard to appreciate when you're concussed and hyper-vigilant for enemies, but on your way back, you start to appreciate that Hong Kong really is an amazing place. It's incredibly modern, which you suppose makes sense considering it's only about 200 years old. Still, it's impressive. The sky is full of tall buildings the like of which you could never find in Italy, and new construction is everywhere.

Even though this place belongs to the British (and is one of the last major pieces of its former empire since Australia's independence became official last year), you can tell just from hearing the mutter of countless conversations around you that the place is overwhelmingly Chinese culturally- give it ten years, you bet, and the British will have to give up this place too.

Before long, you and Kakyoin have reached the restaurant you agreed to meet at beforehand, and you see your other three companions already waiting for you at a table. Joseph waves and yells for you loud enough to be embarrassing.

"Welcome back, you two! If you were any later we'd have gotten worried!"

Reasonably, Kakyoin waits until he's made it to the table to reply. "I apologize. We encountered someone I believe to be a new Stand-user, but he didn't challenge us or seem affiliated with DIO. We left without getting into any trouble."

"Oh," you interject, "but if you see the guy, just bear in mind he's potentially a danger." You describe the shady character you ran into and the others nod.

"It's said that when Stand-users congregate, fate will draw in more to meet them," Avdol says. "I suspect we will meet many enemies on our journey, though perhaps the same mechanism shall lead us to allies as well."

Joseph scoffs. "If having more Stand-users in a place increasingly brings even more there, then shouldn't all the world's Stand-users be drawn to one location like some kind of singularity? Seems like an unsustainable system from fate's perspective."

"There is such a place," replies Avdol grimly. "Cairo, Egypt."

You grimace as you realize he's right. In the course of a few weeks, you, Kakyoin, Son, Avdol, DIO, and at least two of DIO's companions were all in Cairo, and now the five of you are also heading there. That said, there's no telling how many other enemies you'll find there.

"Forget that," Jotaro grumbles. "Right now the important part is getting there."

Joseph nods and pushes an atlas he has open to the center of the table. "We can't just take another flight. We were lucky that only one civilian died last time, but if we get attacked on a plane a second time, there's a serious risk of a full-blown catastrophe!"

"Made even more serious by your track record with planes, old man."

You blink. "Track record with planes?"

Joestar blushes a bit and scratches his head. "Weeell, that crash with you and Gray Fly was actually… my third plane crash in my life."

Your eyebrows threaten to shoot off of your skull and into the sky. "Your third? I'm pretty sure the average must be way less than one, how unlucky are you?"

Kakyoin slides you a cup of tea as Joseph responds, and you nod in thanks as you begin to drink.

"Well, it's not just luck. When I was younger, one of my grandma's friends was very wealthy, so some criminals tried to hijack a flight I was on to ransom me. I punched their teeth in, but the plane wound up going down anyway."

Didn't he not have a Stand until a few weeks ago!? DIO wasn't lying about Joestar being dangerous!

"The second time is a long story, but the short version is I crashed it on purpose. Don't worry, nobody got hurt- nobody I didn't mean to, anyway."

What the fuck??? Who cares how long that story is??? Elaborate????

"And obviously you guys know about the third time."

Judging from their reactions, you can tell Jotaro and Avdol already know what he's talking about, but when you and Kakyoin make eye contact, his expression betrays that he's as flabbergasted as you are.

"W-well Mr. Joestar, we can perhaps discuss that at length later, but for now, perhaps we should consider our route. If flights aren't an option, we'll have to travel by land or sea instead. That leaves boat, car, rail, or the worst case scenario, foot. Rail is fastest, but we face the issue that if we're surrounded by civilians, enemies are hidden and protected."

"I think I'm pretty good at fighting without endangering civilians," you offer. "Flashdance doesn't do much collateral damage."

"That won't help much if we don't even know who or where our enemies are," Joestar replies. "I think our best strategy is chartering a boat. We can make sure the crew are vetted and safe, and anyone approaching from a distance would be super conspicuous."

"Plus, even today there are a lot of places that are serious trouble to pass on land even today," you add. "Taking a boat will let us dodge border crossings, which would especially be a problem in Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan, what with the wars going on. Plus, the last thing we want is to get attacked in some dangerous territory like the desert or Himalayas that our enemy is familiar with but we aren't."

"That settles it," Jotaro says with finality, and it does.

Kakyoin taps your arm to get your attention and gestures to the teapot on the table, the cap of which is halfway off. "In Hong Kong, this is how you let the waiter know you'd like more tea."

"Oh, uh, neat," you say.

Why did he bring that up? Why did he get my attention specifically? Is Kakyoin the type to brag? Is this flirting? I'm too concussed to unravel this social situation!

"Excuse me, good sirs," a man says as he sides up to the table, "could I request some help?"

Aha, a distraction! I owe you my life, French stranger!

"Hey, buzz off," Jotaro says, but Joseph shushes him.

"Don't mind my grandson, what do you need?"

"Well," the mohawked stranger says, "I'm trying to order, but I can't read this Chinese menu!"

Joseph laughs. "That's no problem. I don't speak Chinese, but I've been to Hong Kong enough to be able to read a menu!"

"Oh, uh, there's no need," you interrupt. Both Joestar and the stranger look to you in confusion. "English is mandatory in schools here. Not everybody's gonna be fluent, but anybody in the service industry should be able to take your order at least."

Joestar blushes again, apparently a bit embarrassed. "Er- I figured it'd be more polite to order in their native language, but… well, whatever, food's on me anyway! That's for you too, stranger, feel free to join us!"

Joseph's generous offer is an obvious diversion from his embarrassment, but it's obviously appreciated and, as you eat a hearty meal of shrimp, duck, mushrooms, and a shark fin soup, you manage to pull some nice conversation from the stranger.

He's a Frenchman, obvious from his accent. His name is Jean Pierre Polnareff, and he's not a tourist- he's here for business on behalf of a friend, but he doesn't elaborate further. You aren't paying much attention, mostly focusing on your delicious meal. Perhaps what Avdol said about spiritual healing mattering as much as physical was true, because you can feel Quattro stirring in your soul.

(Thanks to this hearty meal, the recovery of the group's injuries has progressed by 24 hours!)

As you're cleaning your plate and watching Joestar idly stir his bowl of mushroom soup he obvioisly isn't going to finish, you suddenly feel something of a chill in the air and reflexively glance over at Polnareff.

He's idly messing with a carrot sliced into a star. Was that even part of the meal you ordered? Where was there a carrot?

"Such craftsmanship," he mutters. "It's almost a shame to eat it. In fact, this star shape… it reminds me of a friend of mine… yes… a good friend of mine has a birthmark just like this on the back of his neck!"

He says it like he's saying something important and serious, but you're totally lost. What the fuck is this guy talking about?

Obviously everyone else gets it, because they all lean back in shock like he just told them he ran over their dog. "You bastard," Jotaro growls. "You're an enemy!"

Huh???? Just how much subtext is in this guy's star-shapes carrot for him to jump to that conclusion?

Moments later, though, Jotaro is proven right as Joestar's soup begins bubbling and boiling, before a sharp and shiny object bursts forth from it.

"Mr. Joestar," Kakyoin cries, "there's a sword in your soup!"

Joseph dodges backwards as that sword fully emerges, shattering the soup bowl as it's followed out by a mechanical arm clad in glittering silver armor. Polnareff looks as smug as a cat with a mouse as he takes a step back and poses with his Stand. "The card of conquest, pride, and decisive action! That's the Chariot, the card that represents my Stand, Si-"

Polnareff is cut off short by a fist to his face, sending him staggering back onto his ass, his shocked expression highlighted by a bloody nose.

"How dare you do that to my soup, you son of a bitch! Attacking me is one thing, but now I can't finish that delicious food after I kick your ass!"

"B-bastard," Polnareff says, wiping blood from his face as he gets up. "After I warned you before my attack, you won't even let me finish my introduction? Do you have no honor?"

"A bastard with no honor?" Joseph asks as he holds up his fists. "Don't worry, I'll cry lots of tears of shame after I kick your ass!"

Well damn, this escalated quickly.

[] Joseph seems to have a bone to pick with this guy (because of the soup???), so you ought to let him handle this.

[] It's Joseph's fight, but he obviously isn't too worried about keeping it fair. Run a little interference with Flashdance without getting too involved.

[] Eh? Are they really about to 1v1? Let's just jump this guy!

[] Write in…


State of affairs: You're in a room about 15 meters to a side with about 20 civilians in it, full of chairs and tables covered in food and silverware. Joseph and Polnareff are standing a few meters from the table that the rest of the group is circled about. No one's Stands are anywhere but at their sides. Polnareff looks a little rattled, but is otherwise fine.
 
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Chapter 8 Update
Marta Scamorza
Sign: Gemini
Blood Type: B
Height: 175 cm
Education Level: High School graduate, offered a scholarship from the Sapienza University of Rome
Parentage: Italian
Likes: History, geography, and politics. Also people not messing with her too much.
Favorite musician: Frank Sinatra
Favorite Movie: Lawrence of Arabia
Favorite Color: Can't say, would offend 4/5 Flashdances.
Darkest secret: ???
Stand: Flashdance

Location: Hong Kong
39 Days until Holly Kujo's death.

Team status-
Marta Scamorza: Fractured ribs, bruised heart and right lung, misaligned spine, fractured skull, concussed brain, internal damage to eyes. Estimated full recovery: 3 days.
- Uno: Fine
- Due: Incapacitated due to skull injury
- Tre: Fine
- Quattro: Incapacitated due to chest injury
- Cinque: No less useless than usual.

Joseph Joestar: Flesh wound to upper right breast, fracture of right collarbone. Estimated full recovery: Now, basically.

Jotaro Kujo: Fractured left and right ankle. Able to walk but limited mobility. Estimated full recovery: 3 days.

Mohammad Avdol: Superficial flesh wounds to face and sides. More serious cuts and bruises to hands. Dexterity reduced. Estimated full recovery: 12 hours.

Noriaki Kakyoin: Fine. Thinking about the odds of plane crashes.
 
Chapter 9: Duel of the Fakes
As Joestar and Polnareff face off, you're deeply tempted to just let the two of them go at it, but Joestar's powers don't seem particularly suited to single combat, and he's up against an armored knight with a sword. On the other hand, your powers aren't exactly cut out for 1v1s either, so maybe if you work together, you can really get somewhere.

"I'll cut you to ribbons, cur! You've got a lot of nerve!"

"Really? From all the crying you've been doing, I assumed you were cutting onions!"

You can practically see lighting flash between their eyes as they dive at one another, but you're more worried about another flash- Polnareff's sword slices through the air near invisibly fast and several cuts appear along Joseph's arms before he's even done throwing his first punch. Before it lands, Joseph cringes away and jumps back to make distance, blood staining his sleeves.

"You moron! The fist can't defeat the sword, and even if it could, this is no mere blade! You're facing Silver Chariot, a swordsman to make a mockery of the peak of humanity's speed and skill! You may as well leap into a meat grinder!"

Joseph grins, though it's clear in his eyes that he's still feeling the pain of his wounded arms. "You may beat humanity's best, but I've faced blades that yours can't even compare to! I may be unarmed, but these fists are still out of your league!"

Hermit Purple explodes from Joseph's arms and coils around them, thorny vines providing some dangerous-looking armor. He also seems to begin to breathe very deeply, and you can see some sort of sparks running across his body and the vines. Is this another power of Hermit Purple's that he hasn't mentioned?

At this point, the civilians in the room are reasonably concerned. At first it must have seemed like they were watching an impromptu fistfight between two fully-grown LARPers, but now that Joestar has started suddenly bleeding and sparks began jumping from his body, this probably looks like a serious medical issue at best and a genuine threat to them at worst.

Before the waiter has time to come up to the table and politely ask them to stop fighting and/or get the hell put of this upscale establishment though, your ears ring with a sound like heavy machine gun fire! On top of exacerbating your concussion-inflicted headache, it's a real shock that makes you nearly fall from your chair.

"Oh no!" Jotaro cries, his acting as stiff as you would have guessed from his normal affectation, "It sounds like someone's firing a gun nearby! We should all run away!"

Jotaro doesn't even bother to pretend to take his own advice, sitting completely still and even leaning back in his chair a little bit.

In the meantime, nobody else is running away either- the entire restaurant, current combatants notwithstanding, have stopped their business and are looking around confused at the sound. However, as Star Platinum reappears and beats on its chest like a gorilla, repeating the staccato machine gun sound from before, the civilians finally get the idea and start rushing out into the streets in fear of this apparent terrorist attack.

Jotaro, satisfied that he's done his job, pulls a cigarette from his coat pocket and lights up, apparently satisfied to watch the show from a distance.

"Thanks for getting the civilians out of here, Jotaro," Joestar cries with a grin, "though it's a little disappointing! I always do my best dancing with an audience!"

"Oui, it's a shame," Polnareff retorts, "that those people will have to miss the beautiful epitaph I carve into your flesh!"

OK, are these guys going to actually fight, or is this just a less entertaining version of a rap battle?

Joestar answers your unspoken question by charging Polnareff, his arms, clad in Hermit Purple, in front of his vitals as a guard.

"Fool! Did you think my Silver Chariot couldn't pierce a guard like that! A millimeter-wide opening may as well be a barn door!"

His Stand (Silver Chariot, as you've gathered,) leans back to thrust at the gap in Joestar's guard, and its blade does indeed effortlessly find a hole to pierce through directly at Joestar's face! At the last moment before he's skewered, though, the blade seems to veer off-course, scraping against Joestar's gloved hand and missing his face by a hair!

In that moment, Hermit Purple's vines circle and tighten around Chariot's sword, binding it completely! Shifting his weight violently, Joestar twists the sword, in turn twisting Chariot's arm, and from there, flipping the entire Stand upside down. The sudden rotation of his Stand is enough to unbalance Polnareff and leave him unsteady on his feet, which gives Joestar, moving with seemingly superhuman speed, plenty of time to dash at Polnareff and plant a violent boot in his chest, sending the Frenchman flying backwards into a table full of food, smashing the table and winding up covered in soup and salad.

As Polnareff gets up, holding his chest in pain and so visibly furious that you're shocked you can't see steam flying from his ears, Joestar is grinning and muttering to himself. Tre, hidden at his feet, is able to make out his words…

"So if I channel it through Hermit Purple, it really can affect Stands!"
In spite of his obvious joy at his successful hit on Polnareff and whatever realization he's muttering about, you can see sweat beading on Joestar's face, along with tiny drops of blood emerging from his cheek where Chariot's sword grazed him. Did he even know if his plan would work before he put it in action?

There's no time to consider it. Polnareff is already charging Joestar again, his sword flashing like an actual lightsaber as it comes down on Joseph again and again. You can't even fully track Polnareff's attacks, and yet… Joestar doesn't seem to be getting hurt!?

Indeed, as Polnareff grows even more indignant, Joseph's shit-eating grin is only growing, like he knows something no one else does.

"Putain de merde! Why won't you get cut!?"

"For a genius fencer, you aren't getting it, are you? That's disappointing!" Joseph weaves through the rain of slashes coming down on his guard and throws another punch, this time at Chariot, though its blazing speed is enough to dodge. "I'll just spell it out so you can get it!"

Joseph lifted his arms, cut from his first exchange with Chariot, but unharmed since then. "You don't know how I threw off the aim of your thrust, so for the sake of safety, you've been avoiding thrusting attacks, right? If you were using your Stand against normal material, that'd be no problem- I bet titanium is like butter to your Chariot, right? But you're playing in the big leagues now, Cousteau!"

Jotaro noticeably perks up at that name, not that you could guess why.

"Your Stand is weak! Even a mere human like me could overpower it! Its thrusting power looks scary, but its slashes are pathetic! So pathetic that they can't even cut through my Hermit Purple, which for your information ain't exactly a powerhouse of a Stand itself!"

Joseph stood straight up, raising his guard again. "And I'll give you one more piece of trivia, Frenchie. Even if you did cut Hermit Purple, it's not like it'd help you. In exchange for its weakness, my Stand doesn't reflect damage to any part of my body!"

Polnareff was suddenly on the back foot, Chariot brandishing its sword threateningly but impotently as he slowly backed off. Maybe Joestar didn't need your help at all!

Joseph Joestar had told three lies.
1: He was no mere human. With the power of the ancient breathing art called Hamon, Joestar had power more like an elephant than a mere man. And yet he'd managed to shake Polnareff's confidence by sewing doubt as to his Stand's power!
2: Chariot certainly could pierce Hermit Purple's vines with its slashes. Polnareff had been attacking near-randomly in a wild rage, but all he needed was to strike the same spot on a vine a few times and it'd be cleaved in two.

3: Hermit Purple certainly did reflect damage back to Joestar, just not visibly- slashes to the vines dealt internal damage, easier to hide, but no less life-threatening.

With three simple lies, Joseph Joestar had projected the image of an insurmountable enemy, and in so doing, drawn Polnareff directly into his trap! Polnareff now "knew" without a doubt that he had only one path to victory- to face Joestar head-on and pierce through his guard directly!


"Fine, old man! I'll cut you down with all my power! Rue the day you challenged Jean Pierre Polnareff!"

"Don't fool yourself, brat! It's you who made the mistake of challenging Joseph Joestar!"

The two of them charged again, and falling for Joestar's provocations, Polnareff drew Chariot backwards and dove forward with a brutal piercing thrust! Joseph ducked to one side, and as he did so, Chariot's blade wavered as if caught by a magnetic force- giving credence to that hypothesis, sparks ran up and down Joseph's arm, jumping to Chariot's sword! Chariot's arm wavered and, just like last time, it snapped into Joestar's gloved left hand!

And just like last time as well, Joestar continued to rush directly at Polnareff to deliver what looked to be yet another brutal blow! This time, though, something was different. Polnareff's expression of impotent rage had changed to a smug grin, and he let out a laugh from his bloodstained mouth.

"I get it now! What I struck wasn't a Stand at all- and like you said, so long as it isn't a Stand, whether it's flesh, steel, or cardboard, Chariot can slice it just the same!"

Chariot refocused its strike, and before Joseph had time to react and try to suplex it again or something, it drove its blade into his left hand, which it cleaved off with ease, leaving behind a spray of sparks!

As Joestar stares down at his amputated wrist, his eyes bulge out so far you're shocked they don't burst from their sockets- more concerning, though, instead of a blood-gushing wound, his severed hand has revealed a bed of sliced wires- is Joestar a cyborg?!

"I don't know how you did it, but it doesn't matter now! You were running some kind of energy through that fake hand that magnetized Chariot's blade to it! A cute idea, but let's see you magnetize my sword to your flesh! Actually, feel free, it'll make your death quicker!"

Finally, Joestar seemed to realize the situation he's in. Without that magnet trick, Polnareff can use thrusting attacks freely, and Hermit Purple won't be an effective shield.

"OOOOH SHIIIIT!!!"

Joestar starts scrambling back to your table so quickly that his feet cartoonishly struggle for traction at first and he nearly falls on his face, but he manages to escape Chariot's range with only minor wounds as Polnareff sprints after him.

Joestar falls to his knees at your table in a fetal position, putting up some feeble protection against Chariot's blade. You, Jotaro, Avdol, and Kakyoin are in the process of bringing out your Stands to bail him out when you make eye contact with Joestar. He's obviously spooked, but his smile tells you no doubt he has another wild plan. "Me and him!" he whispers, and immediately you get it.

Already, Tre was at Joestar's feet and Uno underneath the floor beneath Polnareff's. As Chariot pulls back its blade to thrust through Joestar's heart, Uno grabs its ankle and Tre takes Joestar's hand.

In an instant, the two have swapped places, Polnareff on the ground in a fetal position with Chariot hugging him like Hermit Purple had surrounded Joestar a moment ago.
The old man, on the other hand, stood behind Polnareff, fist clenched and ready to unleash a royal beating! Hermit Purple coiled around his hand (and his sparking stump) as Joseph took a deep breath and surged with even more electrical energy!

"My blood boils with the unshakable will of a knight… and my soul trembles with the warrior spirit of a Caesar!"
He slammed a brutal thorny uppercut into Chariot, dragging it into the air where he had the perfect angle of attack!

"Sunlight… Yellow… OVERDRIVE!!!"
Joestar unleashed a brutal, Stand-like rush with both his good hand and his metal stump, Hermit Purple's presence as gloves making the blows even impactful against the Stand he was battering!

With one final thunderous haymaker, Joestar sent Polnareff and Chariot flying into the restaurant's front wall, bouncing off of it and shattering another table beneath. Lying flat on his back and seemingly unconscious from the beating, you can see a gap of the hair over his forehead- and a nasty, pulsing piece of flesh sunk into his skull.

"Eeeew," Joestar groans as he starts to wipe the blood off of himself with a napkin. "Jotaro, Kakyoin, one of you pull that thing out of him. Actually, wait, maybe- EH?"

Just as you were starting to relax, a huge burst of smoke exploded from where Polnareff had been lying, and when it cleared, he was nowhere to be seen!

"Pathetic…"
At once, you all spin behind you, where Polnareff had appeared so quickly that you can't help but wonder if he somehow hijacked Flashdance's power.

"Who's pathetic, you-"

Joestar begins to retort and raise his fist for round 2, but before he can react, Chariot's blade had pierced directly through his right pal - and that one bled!

"Oh SHIT!"

Joestar leaped backwards, where Polnareff appeared to let him escape.

"Faking your retreat? Calling for help in the middle of a one-on-one duel? Obviously, Lord DIO has far too much respect for your despicable bloodline! Thankfully, I'll wipe it from the Earth here and now!"

Chariot swings in the air, Joestar's blood splattering on the floor. And indeed, it looks different- whereas before it had the appearance of an armored knight, now it looked more like a thin, bare-bones robot- perhaps that burst of smoke had been it escaping its armor? Either way, its speed was now on a completely different level!

Still, despite that overwhelming speed, Joestar doesn't seem ready to quit. He weaves at the edge of Chariot's range, where it was Polnareff's speed that was needed to catch up with him, not Chariot's, and despite the obvious fear in his eyes and the sweat soaking every inch of his body, you can tell by the fact he hasn't screamed for everyone's help that he hasn't stopped scheming just yet.

"Did you think you could escape me, Joestar? You're as naïve as you are shameless!"

In a flash, Chariot vanishes, but through Uno and Tre's eyes you can see what it's doing. It dives back to Polnareff, grabs him by the hip, and charges forward, converting its extreme speed into speed for its user as well!

Still, Polnareff is no small man, and carrying him slows Chariot down enough for Joseph to react. He grabs the corner of a nearby tablecloth and hurls it into the air in Polnareff's face. In spite of the fact that it doesn't seem to be blocking Chariot's view, Joestar fearlessly charges in while Chariot stands seemingly helpless!

"You can't see through your Stand's eyes, can you, kid!?"

Joseph prepares to throw a punch, but Chariot draws back its blade as well, ready to strike.

"Why would I need to see you, old man? I'll just have Chariot turn every square inch of air into a pincushion before you can dodge!"

And indeed, in the time it takes Joestar's punch to land, Chariot has thrust out five, ten, twenty, fifty times! The attacks are blind, but in their sheer numbers a few strike by chance, landing the first substantial wounds on Joestar as they pierce his right arm and torso- still, he knows better to retreat and ignores the wounds, his punch slamming into the midair tablecloth, passing through it, and connecting with Polnareff's face on the other side, sending him flying for a fourth time and ending Chariot's attack.

Unfortunately, Polnareff, despite serious wounds, doesn't seem ready to stay down just yet, and the tablecloth trick isn't likely to work again- Joestar looks around desperately before his eyes light up with recognition. He reaches down to a nearby table, grabs something, and hurls it directly at you!

"Marta! Use this!"

The mystery object lands on the table in front of you! It's… a clump of spaghetti??????????

Joestar seems to have squeezed it into a clump, and stained with the blood from his hand it looks more like something you dredged out of the drain than anything edible- just a long string of squished spaghetti noodles. What the hell does he intend for you to do with this?

[] I get it! Joestar's plan is (write in…)
[] Fuck this plan!
- [] Joestar can handle it on his own.
- [] You'll just jump in and back him up.
- [] Seriously, we just should have jumped Polnareff from the start. Let's beat the shit out of this guy, boys.
[] Write in…


State of affairs: You're in a room about 15 meters to a side with no civilians in it, full of chairs and tables covered in food and silverware. The ground is now covered in spilled food, slick with blood, and pockmarked with splinters of broken tables. Joseph and Polnareff are about 10 meters away from the group. Either Uno or Tre could reach one of them, but not both unless you move closer. Joseph and Polnareff are both hurt pretty bad, Polnareff perhaps a bit worse, but Joseph is running low on tricks and further direct combat will probably go poorly for him. Avdol and Kakyoin are on a hair trigger, but Jotaro in contrast seems to merely be watching with a deep focus.
 
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Chapter 9 Update
Hermit Purple
Power: D
Speed: D
Range: B
Durability: B
Precision: B
Potential: B

Location: Hong Kong
39 Days until Holly Kujo's death.

Team status-
Marta Scamorza: Fractured ribs, bruised heart and right lung, misaligned spine, fractured skull, concussed brain, internal damage to eyes. Estimated full recovery: 3 days.
- Uno: Fine
- Due: Incapacitated due to skull injury
- Tre: Fine
- Quattro: Incapacitated due to chest injury
- Cinque: No less useless than usual.

Joseph Joestar: Slashes to both arms. Missing mechanical hand. Minor internal damage to cardiovascular and digestive system. Deep stabs to right arm and upper chest, ambiguous organ damage. Estimated recovery: ???

Jotaro Kujo: Fractured left and right ankle. Able to walk but limited mobility. Ever increasing nicotine addiction. Estimated full recovery: 3 days. Estimated lifespan due to likelihood for lung cancer: 60 years.

Mohammad Avdol: Superficial flesh wounds to face and sides. More serious cuts and bruises to hands. Dexterity reduced. Estimated full recovery: 12 hours.

Noriaki Kakyoin: Fine. Wondering if the sanctity of a duel is worth letting his friend get skewered.
 
Chapter 10: Like Wine
Right, of course! Joseph's been using Hermit Purple to give him any ability to harm Polnareff's Stand, but it's just a stopgap- in a Stand battle, Polnareff has the clear advantage. But the opposite is the case in a hand-to-hand fight, where Joseph is dominating with ease- in other words, your job is to drag this Stand battle into a hand-to-hand (or hands-to-hand at this point, you suppose) battle.

"Jotaro, do me a favor," you say as you pick up the clump of spaghetti that Joseph threw at you. "Tear up this tablecloth into long strips of cloth, OK?"

Before you can even turn to focus back on the fight, the tablecloth is already shredded. You didn't even catch a glimpse of Star Platinum.

Jesus Christ. This kid might actually be the strongest person in the world.

You leave that thought behind and zero in on the fight continuing ahead of you. Polnareff is off of his ass and marching toward Joestar, Chariot's blade at the ready, dripping with the blood it already drew from the old man.

Joestar, meanwhile, wears a cocky grin, secure in the knowledge that you've received his plan. As one, they rush one another one last time. Chariot slashes at the sparking stump of Joseph's mechanical left hand, which seems to be a weak point, but Hermit Purple's vines burst forth from it, preventing the blade from sinking deep, though it does carve through what's left of the prosthetic and cut into Joseph's arm.

Meanwhile, Joseph attempts to pivot around to lay down more smackdowns against Polnareff, but the Frenchman is maintaining a very solid control of the space- by maneuvering Chariot between Joseph and himself, Joseph can't move closer without impaling his arm on Chariot's blade.

The situation isn't any less sticky for Polnareff, though. Joestar's vines crawl up his Stand's sword, approaching its cross-guard. If Hermit Purple can completely tie down Chariot, than Polnareff will effectively be trapped in a grapple, at the mercy of Joestar's far superior brute strength.

Still, you catch glimpses of Joseph's eyes, making contact with yours. And you know it's up to you to break the stalemate. As Polnareff is focused on Joestar, you're able to get to your feet and quietly move just a few meters closer, leaving Cinque behind to hold the tablecloth while Uno and Tre each hold one end of the Spaghetti Mess. Sure enough, Joestar has infused it with some sort of force that's causing it to stick together better than spaghetti typically would.

Joestar laughs heartily, despite the considerable pain that he's no doubt in. "Looks like that lightning speed of yours has slowed down a little, punk! Not so impressive when you're tied up like Wonder Woman, are you?"

"Your boasts do nothing but hide your fear. The moment I have you off-balance, I'll shish kebab your arm and heart together! And after you, the traitors, the fortune-teller, and the last of your accursed bloodline!"

Oh? Is he talking about you~? Good timing, because you're finally in position. "You've got it all wrong, Jeannie."

Polnareff turns as Uno swings one end of the spaghetti around his ankle and Tre throws the other end at a visibly-surprised Joseph, who catches it seemingly just based on reflex.

"Your fight here is already over, but don't worry- in just a few moments, you won't even mind."

In a flash, you replace the rope of spaghetti with the torn tablecloth, which is now tangled around Polnareff's ankle on one end and in Joestar's grip in the other.

Joestar seems utterly bewildered for a few moments, nearly as much as Polnareff is, (did you misunderstand his plan?), but he suddenly grins. "Alright! I can work with this!"

With a sudden yank on the tablecloth, he sends Polnareff's leg out from underneath him, and as the Frenchman falls, so to does his Stand, victim of the same forces applied to its master. Chariot's blade slips out from Joseph's flesh, but he keeps it tied up in Hermit Purple, now at a perpendicular angle to his stump rather than piercing directly into it.

Joseph wastes no time with niceties, dashing toward Polnareff even as he falls, bringing down a monstrous punch at his already-pounded face. Chariot kicks Polnareff in the hip as they both fall, sending him sliding off at high speed. Joseph drags him back like a paddleball for another swing.

Polnareff rolls, reducing the knockout strike to a glancing blow. He tries to turn the tables on Joseph by yanking at the tablecloth with his ankle, but Joestar is like a rock, he doesn't budge an inch.

Joestar raises his foot to stomp Polnareff, but before that surely-finishing blow can land, Chariot finally frees its blade, cuts the tablecloth, and throws Polnareff a few meters away to safety, and with blinding speed.

The swordsman scrambles to his feet. Joseph puts his foot down and pivots forwards as though to throw a kick, but Polnareff has already escaped his range! In the end, did your gambit end without gaining any advantage?

As Polnareff regains his footing, Joestar throws a kick into thin air. And before your eyes, something truly ludicrous happens. His leg expands, it stretches like a cartoon character, reaching out to twice its normal length, thrice, and bridging the entire gap between him and Polnareff, crashing into the Frenchman's neck with brutal force and sending Polnareff flying, smashing through a table and leaving him on the floor, soaked in spilled food and red wine, seemingly completely unconscious.

"What do you think of that!" Joseph cries, grinning. "That's the new and improved Hamon Zoom Kick! It's my own i- i- ooh! Ouch! HOLY SHIT!"

Joseph is grabbing his hip in sudden pain. After his attack, his leg had somehow retracted back into place, but it looks like whatever ridiculous technique he had used, it wasn't too easy on his hips as a 79 year old man.

Regardless, he had won! Finally, your other three companions rise from their seats. Kakyoin rushes to Joseph's side, helping him into a seat, while Avdol and Jotaro approach the fallen Polnareff. You, for your part, run to join Joestar and Kakyoin.

"That was great fighting! You really must have been going easy on me when you kicked my ass, Joestar!"

Joseph grins through the pain and nods. "I was! But what the heck!? I thought you were going to swap the spaghetti I threw you with Polnareff's flesh bud!"

You blink once. Twice. Again. Another. And make it five times.

"I'll give you a pass on one part of that, Joestar- I never warned you that Flashdance can't swap two things that are attached to each other apart. I can't detach your mechanical arm, and probably not a flesh bud either. But leaving that aside- even if it did work, I'd be leaving Polnareff's brain full of spaghetti! If I was going to do that I may as well have just cut his throat outright!"

Joseph, in turn, blinked. And then again. You have to give him credit, he managed a full six blinks of bewilderment when you only made it to five. "Oh my god," he finally mutters. "At least you did the best you could with my nonsensical plan. Thanks for the help, Marta, that was just my style."

From behind, Jotaro grunts to get your attention. "Got it," he says, holding up a wriggling bundle of vampire nerves in Star Platinum's fingers before crushing it. That thing was in your brain.

"We should be on our way quickly," Avdol says. "Jotaro's distraction was effective, but it will have attracted the attention of the law. Polnareff is unconscious. I, for one, vote we should bring him with us. Like Marta and Kakyoin, he could be an ally now that he's free from the mind control."

"Seconded," Kakyoin replies.

"Yeah," Jotaro follows.

You nod too. "I agree. Let's get moving. Can you walk, Joestar?"

He takes a few moments to breathe deeply, charging his body with more of that mysterious electric energy he was using in the fight before he nods. "I can walk, yeah. Let's book it to a hotel."



A few minutes of ducking through alleys to avoid police and one hotel receptionist bribed to ignore a bloody unconscious man later, all six of you, including Polnareff, lying prone in bed, are resting in a fancy hotel room.

The five of you who are still conscious only have a few moments to begin to decompress before Polnareff stirs and sits up, holding his head in both hands- after the beating he received and having a flesh bud torn from his brain, you can only imagine the headache.

"Putain de merde, I believe I'm remembering today's events correctly?" He says as he scans the room to make eye contact with each of you in turn.

"Unless you're remembering a pleasant dinner date, probably," Joseph replies, before clicking his tongue. "Wait, no, that actually did sorta happen too."

Polnareff sighed. "I cannot apologize sincerely enough for my actions. Though I hope you will forgive me for not willingly offering up my life to you as the victor- you did team up against me,"

Joseph scoffs. "The honor of our duel or your life, pal? Anyway, you didn't really lose- you're free now, so the only real loser is DIO."

"DIO!" Polnareff hisses, his teeth clenched. "That snake! I was prepared to become his pawn, but I haven't been able to see clearly for so long!"

Over the course of a few minutes, Polnareff recounts his story, much as you did the day before. Long ago, his younger sister was attacked, violated, and murdered by a mysterious man with two right hands and who seemed invulnerable to the touch of the rain. A Stand-user, he was sure. Polnareff had devoted his life to avenging her murder, but along the way, he met DIO, who had tempted him with information about this man, thereby managing to infect him with his flesh bud.

"A Stand-user and a depraved criminal," Avdol muses. "Call it a hunch or intuition, but that man is just the sort that DIO might have in his employ. Come with us, Polnareff. Your sword is sharp, and your sister's killer will surely become our enemy before the journey's end."

Grimly, Polnareff nods. "If you'll have me," he says, "I'll fight and die with you to bring down both that monster and DIO."

Jotaro scoffs. "If we had any trouble accepting people we've fought before, the team would just be the old man and Avdol."

Joseph laughs. "You're assuming Avdol and I have never thrown down! Bad guess, Jotaro! All that said, we're happy to have you, even if you did stab my soup and nearly kill me. But now the question is what to do next. If we want to move quickly, I can charter a boat and have us on our way within the day- but at risk of sounding like a bitch, I'm hurt and tired. We could afford to rest here for the night."

"If we're going to, we should stay at least two to a room in case of attacks at night," Avdol says. "But that raises the issue of who'll sleep with Marta. What do you think?"

[] Let's get our asses moving. We're all hurt, but that's no reason to laze around. Let's jump on that boat to Singapore.

[] Rest is good. The last day has been Hell on earth for everyone. Let's get some sleep. (A comfortable night's stay at a hotel accelerates wound recovery by 24 hours. Plus, something might happen…)
- [] I'd like to stay in a room with [], if he doesn't mind.

- [] Write-in…
 
Chapter 10 Update
Chapter 1 trivia fact: When Marta calls Polnareff "Jeannie," I considered many various attacks against the honorable French people. "Guile (on account of his hair,)" misunderstood by Polnareff as being related to J. Geil, was an obviously anachronistic reference. Jean-Luc Dickhard (weird) or Jean-Luc Jerkoff (lacks a ring) are technically not anachronistic, but Star Trek TNG only came out a few months ago, and Marta has spent that time in a brainwashed stupor. In the end, I settled on an extremely middling "just mildly make fun of his name." Jeannie, for the record, is pronounced "Johnny." The tragedy here is that Marta, who is better-read and more European than me, would no doubt know a far better joke to make fun of a French guy.

Silver Chariot
Power: C
Speed: P
Range: D
Durability: C
Precision: B
Potential: C

Location: Hong Kong
39 Days until Holly Kujo's death.

Team status-
Marta Scamorza: Fractured ribs, bruised heart and right lung, misaligned spine, fractured skull, concussed brain, internal damage to eyes. Estimated full recovery: 3 days.
- Uno: Fine
- Due: Incapacitated due to skull injury
- Tre: Fine
- Quattro: Incapacitated due to chest injury
- Cinque: No less useless than usual.

Joseph Joestar: Slashes to both arms. Missing mechanical hand. Minor internal damage to cardiovascular and digestive system. Deep stabs to right arm and upper chest, ambiguous organ damage. Estimated full recovery: 2 days. Estimated time till the mechanical hand grows back: Never. They don't do that, idiot. (But he can get a new one in a day or two.)

Jotaro Kujo: Fractured left and right ankle. Able to walk but limited mobility. Estimated full recovery: 3 days.

Mohammad Avdol: Superficial flesh wounds to face and sides. More serious cuts and bruises to hands. Dexterity reduced. Estimated full recovery: 12 hours.

Noriaki Kakyoin: Fine. Wondering if the sanctity of a duel is worth letting his friend get skewered.

Jean Pierre Polnareff: Bruised everything. Fractured jaw and collarbone. Concussed. Broken nose. Estimated full recovery: 2 days.
 
Chapter 11: Battle Tendency
All eyes are on you. You know they offered to let you choose who you'd room with so you as to minimize the awkwardness of making you share a room with a random man (and a borderline stranger at that), but having to make your own choose is frankly even more awkward. Well, if you have to choose…

"Mr. Joestar, if you don't mind? I'd like to talk with you about some stuff anyway, so it's convenient."

"No problem!" he replies cheerfully. "I wanted to chat too."

Polnareff snaps his fingers and dramatically sighs. "Damn. I was holding out hope that you'd be immediately smitten."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, it's my loss."

"That said," Avdol starts, "I'll room with Polnareff and Jotaro with Kakyoin, if there are no objections."

"Nope."

"Students should stick with students," Kakyoin agrees.

With that, the six of you break rank and head to your individual rooms in pairs, hoping for the first good period of rest since you set out on this battle.

Once you're reclining in your bed and Joseph is in his, you speak up. "Is your hip doing alright?"

He nods. "Yeah, it was just temporary… when I was younger I could do moves like that all day, but I guess age catches up with everyone eventually."

"OK," you say, sitting up and pointing at him, "we're gonna elaborate on that in a second, but I have a priority to my questions- you had a prosthetic hand this whole time?"

He nods, raising his left hand- he's removed the slashed remains of his prosthetic, leaving a rounded stump covered in scars, complete with what look like metal inserts for the hand to be connected to. "It's an old battle wound from fifty years back. Pretty cool, if I do say so myself."

You can't help but agree. Joseph seems like a goofy guy, but as you peel away layers, you're starting to understand why DIO is so afraid of him.

"No kidding. But I didn't even notice it was a fake hand under your glove. I'm not an expert, but that's gotta be cutting-edge prosthetic work."

He nods. "You probably already picked up on this, but I'm a pretty rich guy- and that aside, I have connections with a science group that does all sorts of advanced research. My hand is about 20 years ahead of whatever's on the market at least."

"Are you gonna be able to… replace it?"

"Yep! I've actually got a spare on me, but screwing it in myself is a pretty involved and usually bloody process, so I'm gonna save it for when I feel a bit better. If that one breaks too, I can get other ones flown in."

"Metal. So OK, sorry, but moving down the priority- how the hell are you so strong? And what's with that lightning situation? And you stretching your leg like that!? You said your Stand ability was basically just clairvoyance."

He nods. "Basically, I can answer that all in one word- Hamon. It translates to something like "the Ripple" in English. It's complex, and I'm not great at explaining it since it's mostly instinct to me, but basically it's an energy you develop through a special breathing technique."

You blink. "Like… qigong?"

"Eh?"

"You know, like chi. The life energy that Chinese martial artists supposedly use. Don't the Japanese have something similar too?"

Joseph's eyes light up in recognition. "Oh yeah! Yeah, I don't know for sure that they're exactly the same, but Hamon is a lot like how people describe chi, and we do think that the technique was first designed in east Asia. The oldest living masters are in Tibet and China."

Well, you can't pretend this is completely earthshattering info to you. You've spent your entire life surrounded by five magical, invisible spirits that can teleport you around in flagrant violation of several fundamental laws of physics. It's not at all hard for you to imagine that Chinese monks invented some way to use their life energy for combat.

"So… what all can it do?"

Joseph heartily laughs. "A better question is what it can't. On a base level, just breathing in Hamon patterns passively gives great boosts to your stamina, strength, healing ability, and resistance to disease. I've barely gotten sick in the last 50 years, and I'm as spry as an Olympic athlete- and that's coming from a guy who's totally out of practice. It also extends your lifespan- when I was a kid, I knew a Hamon master named Straights. He looked about as old as I do now, but he would have been 212 years old when he died."

Again, you shake your head in surprise. It's believable, but still amazing. "So all those stories about ancient Xiaolin monks living to be hundreds of years old might actually be true?"

Joseph nods. "The old guard, the last surviving Hamon masters who are older than me and my mom, are all isolated monks living out in China and Tibet. I haven't exactly checked their birth certificates, but they claim to be in the neighborhood of 300 years old each. But they're getting real old and rickety by now- even Hamon has its limits."

"That's incredible. And those are just the passive benefits?"

He nods. "I swear I'm not just being cagey when I say Hamon's applications are way too varied to count. When I was a kid I practically just breathed on every problem and it went away. The summary of it is it conducts through various materials like electricity and can change their properties- and it's really poisonous to vampires."

"What about the leg thing?"

"Actually, anybody can do that even without Hamon- I just dislocated my hip and knee joints to extend the range of the kick. My Hamon breathing just let me do it without
too much pain and to fix myself afterwards. There's a martial arts style passed down by Hamon-breathers called Sendo. That's one of its famous techniques, the Zoom Punch- Zoom Kick in this case, obviously."

You nod, but your mind is on other things. Incredibly improved physical ability, drastically increased lifespan, all kinds of special techniques, and it'll improve your ability to kill DIO? "Is this breathing style something that anyone can learn?"

"Yes." Joseph says immediately, and you feel your heart skip a beat. This is almost too good to be- "Yes with an asterisk." Ah. It is.

"What's… the footnote?"

"For a start, in order to breathe that way as someone who wasn't born with it, there's a move that needs to be done on you. A kinda poke in the sternum to open up your breathing passageways. I can technically do it, but I haven't practiced in years, and messing up can hurt you bad- no permanent damage, but it'll really suck in the short term. If you want it done, I'd recommend my mom do it."

"You mentioned her before. I wanna talk about that, but first, are there any other caveats?"

"Yeah. You didn't start doing it from birth, so it's hard work and a lot of practice- the training I went through as a kid was nothing short of hell, and that was as someone who got past the novice level off of pure instinct. And there's no way to know if you've got great potential until you start practicing- no promises you'll have the bull's strength and turtle's lifespan."

"But worst case scenario… it's still an improvement, right?"

He nods. "Even if you're stuck at the amateur level forever, it'll improve your whole life."

"OK, so next question on the list- you're 68, right? Your mom, it sounds like she's a Hamon master like you-"

He raises his hand to shush you. "Let's get it clear, she's nothing like me. Even describing us with the same adjective is an insult to her. I've got some skills, but when it comes to Hamon, she's in the top 3 greatest masters to be born in the last 300 years."

So up there or above those 300 year old monks?

"Well, uh- she's a master, is the point. How old is she?"

He grins. "She'll be 100 next year. Wanna see a photo?"

The sheer shameless joy in his expression seems borderline lecherous, that impression being compounded by the fact that he's pulling a Polaroid of a woman out of his wallet to conspiratorially show you like a pinup girl, but-

Your thoughts are silenced as you lay eyes on the actual photo- forget a pinup, she's a centerfold! "She doesn't even look 40! And she's 99 years old!?"

Joseph erupts with hearty, booming laughter, which doesn't subside for at least ten or fifteen seconds. "You wouldn't believe it, right? That this geezer's old woman looks like a damn movie star?"

He flips the photo back into his wallet. "Technically, she was 95 in that photo, but yeah. Hamon is one hell of a drug."

You squint at him. "I've been resisting asking the question, but… at risk of being extremely rude-"

"Everybody asks," Joseph interrupts. "To be honest, it's complicated. The main answer is Suzi, my wife. When we were digging into our thirties and I started seeing some grey hairs and wrinkles I didn't like, I considered picking up my Hamon practice to cut down on the aging… but she never had the talent or the passion for it. And every time I imagined her growing old while I stayed fit as a fiddle… it just made me sadder than anything to think about."

And now it's their daughter that's at risk of withering away before his eyes.

"I… I'm sorry. I imagine that's hard on you, let alone on your mother."

He leans back, sighs wistfully, and lets out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, she chews me out whenever I see her- wasted talent and all that. But I always tell her the same thing- 'how do you expect me to take a lecture seriously from someone who looks half my age?' Of course, she thinks I'm a lost cause."

"Didn't seem too lost today. Those skills were incredible."

He chuckles. "Can I tell you the truth? I admit, this'll be a weird one."

You cock an eyebrow and shift your weight to stare directly at him. "It depends how weird, but… shoot."

"It's you who got me wanting to fight more. You don't know me too well yet, but that Flashdance of yours, it's just my style. When I first learned about its powers, I felt myself bursting at the ears with jealousy. How come you got the power of my dreams and I'm stuck with some Avdol-style power? Well, anyway, it got me all fired up and wanting to get back into fighting shape, so I started dreaming up new ways to combine my Sendo and Hermit Purple."

You blow a raspberry and relax back in bed. "Weirder than I expected, but less weird than I feared. If anything, it's nice to know that at least one guy from you group of superhuman freaks is actually jealous of me."

"Aww," Joseph coos, putting his hand over his cheek like a schoolgirl. "And I'm glad you think I'm a superhuman freak."

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Anyway if you don't mind my asking, it Hamon is as great as it sounds, why haven't I heard of it? Why aren't people doing it all over the place?"

"That's complicated. I'll skip the long parts and just say back in the old days there were thousands of them. But a certain ancient enemy of the Hamon masters killed them off in huge numbers. The survivors in East Asia mostly turned to asceticism, and didn't mingle with the normal population much. Also, learning it ain't easy, so masters normally only have two students at a time tops. As far as I know, nowadays there might only be six competent Hamon-breathers in all of Europe, and that's counting me. The Ramshteins, the Desirs… the Zeppelis… none of the famous Hamon-breathing families are left."

"So a combination of practical matters, culture, and just bad luck. That's… unfortunate."

He nods. "That's an understatement. The worst of it is that recently we found this girl- she's a genius on top of geniuses, probably the best Hamon prodigy in known human history, maybe except my grandpa. We had high hopes that she might be the savior of us all- but years ago there was an assassination attempt on her, we don't even know from who. She's living in hiding now…"

You sigh. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get you talking about all this heavy stuff."

Joseph smiles wistfully and lies down flat on his back in bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "Nah… we're in dire straights, but I think there's a bright future somewhere. Once we squash this DIO and save my daughter, I'll introduce you to my mom and we can see about turning that 6 up to 7. Either way, an old friend left his hopes and dreams with me when he died. I can't just let him down after that."

"I wouldn't want to either. You sleep well, old guy. You don't snore, do you?"

"Hey, I forgot to mention that one. There's another bonus of Hamon. Perfect airflow every night."

"Damn," you mutter as you climb under the covers and Uno clicks out the light. "I really have been missing out."

You've had a restful and uneventful night's sleep at a comfortable hotel! The restoration of the group's injuries has been accelerated by 24 hours over the course of 8 hours of sleep! The dawn breaks on the 2nd day of this Crusade, and Due and Quattro are, while perhaps a bit dazed, now able to move and act again!


You resist the temptation to just teleport yourself up as you try to climb into the shaky boat from the docks. You've always hated boats, but even you couldn't deny that traveling via the sea was obviously the best choice, especially since this ship's owner, one Captain Tennille, was specifically vetted by Joseph's weird secret society.

Still, you can't help but really hope that today goes smoothly. Your headache has mostly cleared up, and after an (embarrassingly tearful) reunion with Due and Quattro after you finally saw for sure that they were alright, you really hope you aren't gonna immediately be shoved back into paintown, United Kingdom.

You already had enough of a shock today, walking into your hotel room's bathroom to find Joseph at the sink, near covered with blood, having just had some sort of mishap installing his spare hand- and he says that's typical?

All that said, now that you've finally boarded the boat, you intend to make the best of it. You bought a bathing suit before leaving, so you can get in some sunbathing- or maybe even swimming if you're lucky. You see Joseph and Jotaro speaking with the captain (to be more precise, Joseph is speaking to the captain while Jotaro loiters in the margins of the conversation smoking a cigarette), and you meander over to join.

"And you're certain that all ten of the sailors on this ship are completely trustworthy, Captain Tennille?"

"Absolutely, sir. I've been sailing with each one of them for years."

"And of course, there's no other passengers onboard aside from us six?"

"Not a one. There was a little rat stowaway boy yesterday, but we put him back out on the streets."

"That's a relief," Joseph says. He doesn't say it out loud, but you know what he means- a stowaway could be an enemy Stand-user, or worse, be endangered by one.

The Captain turns to you and looks you up and down, with an expression of judgmental disgust that instantly gives you bad vibes. "And you- before you get comfortable, put on some more clothes. My boys don't see women for sometimes weeks at a time, they don't need you taunting them with some skimpy bikini."

Sorry, what the fuck, dude? For a start, your bathing suit, as bikinis go, is pretty modest- but for a finish, if this guy's sailors can't handle seeing a girl in a bathing suit, maybe they shouldn't have taken a job where they spend half the time tied to a beach.

Still, you don't say anything- you stay silent long enough, at least, for Jotaro to step up in the Captain's face. "Hey, step off. If you don't like what she's wearing, you can say so nicely."

The Captain sneers in Jotaro's face. "My ship, my rules, brat. I don't tolerate whores on my deck- nor your disgusting cigarettes."

As he says so, he snaps Jotaro's smoke out from between his lips, crushes it in his fist, and then drops the remains in Jotaro's coat pocket. "Where were you going to put it out? On my spotless deck? In our beautiful ocean? I don't tolerate that sort of disrespect."

OK, this guy is out of line, but he is the owner of the ship you're about to be undertaking an extremely important expedition on. How are you gonna deal with this?

[] De-escalate: Get between Jotaro and the Captain and try to comply with Tennille's demands. Joseph looks like he's just about ready to do the same, so hopefully the two of you can unwind the tension a bit.

[] Go with the flow: Don't interfere much and see how Joseph and Jotaro react to this. Only get yourself more involved if you really need to.

[] Escalate: This captain is out of line. Maybe before the "whore" comment you'd have tolerated it, but now you're pissed- and that's not to start on how he dumped a smoked cigarette into Jotaro's coat just as a show of disrespect. This captain isn't gonna get away with being an asshole this whole voyage, and you're gonna wear your fucking bathing suit.

[] Write-in…


[Incidentally, feel free to add any notes about your opinions about learning Hamon, including if you think it's a good enough idea to risk Joseph trying to activate it for you]
 
Last edited:
Chapter 11 Update:
Joseph Joestar
Strength: B
Agility: B
Resilience: B
Intellect: A
Chutzpah: A
Wisdom: D

Team status-
Marta Scamorza: Sore ribs, sore back, headache, minor skull fracture. Estimated full recovery: 24 hours.
- Uno: Fine
- Due: Inconvenienced due to skull injury
- Tre: Fine
- Quattro: Inconvenienced due to chest injury
- Cinque: Officially the most useless Flashdance again.

Joseph Joestar: Scrapes and bruises inside and out. Anemic from serious blood loss. Estimated full recovery: 12 hours.

Jotaro Kujo: Sore ankles. Isn't gonna be beating his 100 meter PB, but mostly mobile and no visible limp. Estimated full recovery: 12 hours.

Mohammad Avdol: Fine. Witnessing the beginning of an altercation, but not yet convinced it's worth getting up from his deck chair.

Noriaki Kakyoin: Fine. Gossiping about the upcoming altercation with Polnareff.

Jean Pierre Polnareff: Broken nose. Headache. Sore in most places. Estimated full recovery: 12 hours.
 
Chapter 12: Red
OK, Joseph can have your preemptive apologies for causing him problems, but you're not gonna stand for this shit. You've spent a lot of your life ducking problems and taking disrespect from people, and only fighting back when you reach your limit- well, consider this a turning point in your life.

"Hey, dickless, what the fuck is your problem?" You step in front of Joseph, roughly poking the Captain in the chest. "You and your crew have gone so long without the touch of a woman that just laying eyes on me will make you lose control? And you think you can lecture Jotaro because he's smoking a cigarette? To me, it sounds like a little cigarette ash is one of the less disgusting pieces of waste on this boat."

A vein pops out of Tennille's nose as he opens his mouth to retort, but before he can, Joseph shimmies between the three of you, wearing an awkward grin and holding his hands in the air. "Now everyone calm down, I don't think there's any need for tro-"

The Captain interrupts Joseph by shoving him out of the way. Joseph, obviously not expecting it, stumbles and falls on his ass on the deck. Jotaro's glare is about ready to set this whole ship on fire.

Tennille steps back into your space, and you reflexively step back. "Your disrespect is pathetic. You must have been raised in some cushy society where there are no consequences for your actions- but you aren't there now. On my ship, what I say goes. And if some uppity bitch wants to talk back to me on it, she can get off of it, whether onto the dock or into the sea is her own choice."

You let out a breath so deep that you feel like your lungs are completely empty. You can't see your face, but you know it must be red from your chin to your ears. This guy is pushing some buttons he's really going to regret pushing if he doesn't roll them back. You open your mouth to retort. You're not sure what, but something surely full of expletives and probably threats. Before a word can emerge, Tennille backhands you in the face and you stagger back onto your ass.

He says something, probably some more self-righteous quip, but you don't hear it. You don't even feel the sting of your cheek. All you can hear is a violent ringing. All you can see is red. All you can remember is him.

"I've given up hope in improving you! In turning you into a proper woman! In making you anything better than your mother. But I will not tolerate being disrespected in my own home!"

You're trembling on your hands and knees, your hands growing slippery in a puddle of your tears on the floor. Your cheek burns red, and you're acutely aware of the bruise you'll have tomorrow. "D-dad-"

"You're no daughter of mine! Your whore mother cavorted with devils! I knew from the start that you were cursed, but I did everything I could to raise you right, Rosa! But it's worthless. Pointless. The devils had you from the start. Get the fuck out from under my roof."

At last, you manage to look up at him and make eye contact with him again. You're trembling from head to toe, which is why it's so strange to you that Quattro's hand is as steady as a master surgeon's as she hovers behind him.


You're snapped back to reality with a crash as Jotaro sends a right hook into Tennille's face, sending him, too, falling back onto the dock, out from under Quattro. As you gather your senses back together, you realize what just happened- if Jotaro hadn't punched Tennille, Quattro would have killed him on the spot!

Tennille gets up with a roar, and by now everyone on the ship is watching as he charges Jotaro. Jotaro ducks his punch and sends another right directly into his nose, and again Tennille is on the ground. He tries to get up again, but Jotaro obviously isn't that honorable. With a cry of "ORA," he swings a kick into the Captain's stomach and sends him sliding to the edge of the deck.

"You wanna talk big and hit a lady, tough guy?"

He leans down and grabs Tennille by the collar, lifting him back to his feet. Tennille lays two punches into Jotaro's chest, but they don't do a thing. "Talk tough when you're sure you're the strongest guy around, jackass."

Jotaro throws him against the wall of the cabin, before laying a mean knee into his stomach. The Captain almost crumples, but Jotaro keeps him on his feet. What comes next would probably be hard to watch if you hadn't been about to literally execute this guy in cold blood just moments ago.

Jotaro puts hands on the Captain, who for his part is basically helpless to resist, for the next several minutes straight. By the end, Tennille has been beaten utterly senseless, and Jotaro's holding him up by his ruined hair. Almost unbelievably, none of the sailors stepped in to help, nor none of your friends to stop Jotaro. It seems that almost everyone is stuck watching this like a car crash, unable to avert their eyes.

At the end, Jotaro lifts up Tennille and stares him in the eye. "You're gonna apologize six times. First, apologize to me for stuffing my cigarette in my pocket."

"It was just-"

Like you were earlier, Tennille is interrupted by a slap, though this one splatters blood from Tennille's face across the deck.

"I'm s-sorry!"

Now, Jotaro turns him to face you, holding out his face to you like Medusa's head. "Next, apologize to Marta for insulting her."

"I'm sorry…"

"Now, apologize for slapping her."

"S-sorry…"

"Now apologize to my grandpa for pushing him."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Joestar…"

"Next, apologize for acting tough," Jotaro says as he lifts Tennille to stare him in the eye again.

"F-forgive me… I'm sorry…"

"And now apologize for making me teach you this lesson."

"I'm sorry! Please, spare me, Mr. Jotaro!"

At that, Jotaro drops him like a sack of potatoes. "That lesson was a hassle, so don't you forget it, asshole. NOW!"

He turns to the ten crewmen, who all jump in surprise. "My old man already paid for this journey, so you punks are gonna take us to Singapore if you don't want what he just got, got it?"

"Yes sir!" They say in intimidated unison, saluting Jotaro and nervously making preparations to leave. Jotaro lights another cigarette and puts his hands in his pockets, finally turning to you and offering a hand- you realize you never got off of your knees for the entire beating.

You take his hand and he helps you up. "Don't mind jackasses like that. Dealing with punks who think they're hot shit is my speciality. You don't always have to solve problems with your Stand."

"Right," you blush. "Sorry… I wasn't even thinking at the time, he brought up some really bad memories."

"That was a disaster," Joseph says as he joins your little circle, along with Polnareff, Avdol, and Kakyoin. "He was acting out of line, but we can't start picking fights with civilians. We have bigger issues to deal with!"

Jotaro scoffs. "He's a civilian, so I dealt with him like a civilian. I would have done the exact same thing back home even if Star Platinum never existed."

Joseph frowns. "That's… not good. And Marta… were you really about to attack him with your Stand? No matter what a bastard he is, you can't do that sort of thing!"

You shake your head. "No… I'm sorry I handled it so poorly, but no. Quattro wants to kill the people I hate, but she can't act without my permission. Plus, if he had been an enemy Stand-user, he would have reacted and outed himself, and then I could have eliminated him."

Joseph sighs. "Well, miraculously, it worked out this time. We should set sail as quickly as possible before we get in any more trouble."

Silently, you nod, and you step back and watch the sailors prepare to undock the ship. As you do so, Polnareff claps his hand on Jotaro's shoulders and says something to him you can't hear. Jotaro sighs, but doesn't respond otherwise, and turns away.


The rest of the day goes smoothly, but awkwardly. It's impossible to get into any sort of pleasant or even neutral mood after that morning's debacle, and you spend most of your time in your cabin, ironically changing back into your normal clothes.

Eventually, after a few silent meals and occasional intimidations by Jotaro, it's time for bed. Normally, you'd have no choice but to sleep with the boys, but Captain Tennille "volunteers" his personal quarters to you "out of his sense of chivalry," coincidentally after a long heart-to-heart with Jotaro and Polnareff, so you get to sleep in a pretty comfortable bed while everyone else is confined to cots.

Hopefully, tomorrow will finally be a nice, uneventful day of travels. Despite your mind fraught with worries and self-doubt about the day's events, you manage to quickly slip into sleep.


You awaken to screaming from the next cabin, but as you sit up in bed, two other sensations hit you first. The first is that you feel the need to violently cough, realizing you're smelling smoke and that you must have been inhaling it while you slept. The next is that you can't fully sit up- your left arm and hand are stuck to some sort of rough and sharp objects that in turn are stuck to the bedframe, and you can feel your warm blood tricking down your hand.

Before you can consider a course of action, you're standing out of bed in your nightclothes, Uno having taken the initiative and swapped places with you. She's now trapped by the same strange objects that trapped you, but she violently yanks her arm away from the bedframe- instead of freeing herself, per-se, she rips a chunk of the bedframe off, still stuck to her by way of whatever was attached to her arm.

The cabin is hot and full of smoke, and you can hear yelling, crackling, and the boat screaming in wooden pain- there's no doubt that it's in flame. You can hear movement on the deck above you as well as the crew cabin where your friends and the sailors were sleeping a few rooms away. You're gonna have to move fast, so what's first on the schedule?

[] Investigate whatever the hell it was that was on your arm and is now on Uno's- if she can't get it off, it must be some sort of Stand attack, right?
[] Transport yourself into the crew cabin to check on anyone who's still in there- or worse, stuck in there like you might have been.
- [] And look for the attacker
- [] And try to find and help your friends
- [] And try to help civilians
[] Transport yourself up onto the deck. There's panic up there, and you're less likely to trap yourself in your second crowd crush of the weekend if you don't go into the cabin full of panicked sailors.
- [] And look for the attacker
- [] And try to find and help your friends
- [] And try to help civilians

[] Write in…


State of affairs: You're in a relatively small room that would normally be the captain's sleeping quarters. In it is a bed, a desk with drawers, some random junk, and a lot of smoke. The ship is small enough that you can easily jump quickly between each room upon it by swapping yourself with Flashdances. You have zero clue where anyone else is.
 
Chapter 12 Update
Jotaro Kujo
Strength: B
Agility: C
Resilience: B
Intellect: C
Chutzpah: A
Wisdom: C

Team status-
Marta Scamorza: Generally sore and mentally compromised, but no major injuries. Suffering from smoke inhalation, bleeding from left hand and arm. Estimated full recovery: A few hours.
- Uno: Fine, but has something stuck to her.
- Due: Fine
- Tre: Fine
- Quattro: Fine, but as bloodthirsty as ever
- Cinque: Fine

Joseph Joestar: Fine (???)

Jotaro Kujo: Fine (???)

Mohammad Avdol: Fine (???)

Noriaki Kakyoin: Fine (???)

Jean Pierre Polnareff: Fine (???)
 
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