From the beginning, humanity has known despair. Despair brought on by things outside their...
Conflicting Views (PMMM/JJBA)
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001
TPK
Hello, friend.
From the beginning, humanity has known despair. Despair brought on by things outside their control, the hot sun and gnawing hunger of near starvation. Despair caused by poor decisions, by sleeping in instead of getting up and working when they should be spending time with a family growing slowly more distant. Despair brought on by the malicious acts of others, vampires preying on the mass of humanity and more ordinary threats.
A girl teased for being shy, a man staring down the barrel of a gun. Both despair.
But for just as long as there has been despair, there has been hope. The quiet hope that your friend will come back from the madness that has overtaken him. Hot-blooded hope roaring defiance against the heavens and their superior beings. Stoic refusal to give into despair, even in the darkest moments.
And sometimes it even works!
. . . That's the amazing thing about humans.
There's the chance that one day a human would stepped out of its cave even without inverention, looked up at the stars, and decided- in its primitive understanding of language- that it wanted to go there. And that's just so unlikely, that human concept of hope which rose to fight away the despair. Two sides of the same coin, forever fighting each other.
It's even carried in bloodlines, on the forward looking- let's call it face- side. There's a predisposition in the genetics somewhere, carried through hundreds of years in the blood, that takes a beaten and bloody person and tells them to stand up! Of course, the opposite is true as well. No actions without an equal and opposite reaction and all that.
Continuing the metaphor, there is an edge-side to the coin as well, the thing keeping the two faces opposite each other. It's what creates a use for the two sides, what binds them together and keeps them apart. It's a lot of things, but what it's usually doing is making a huge mess- for a good cause it protests, and maybe that's enough.
That's for you to decide.
You don't want to decide? Well that's too bad! This is a story, after all, and stories need things like decisions.
. . . No?
Well then the coin decides, and then- the story begins with a fight, like all good stories.
How does the coin land?
[] F-
Oh. Heads.
By all predictions it should have landed on tails! As one of those on the edge side of the coin, I suppose I should be disappointed about that, but I'm not. Disappointment is a step towards despair, and that is something that my kind never bothered to emulate.
Still, I should always offer a choice regardless.
So . . .
Who are you?
[] Pink
[] Black
[] Blue
[] Spiderwebs
[] Hat hair
[] Old
A girl teased for being shy, a man staring down the barrel of a gun. Both despair.
But for just as long as there has been despair, there has been hope. The quiet hope that your friend will come back from the madness that has overtaken him. Hot-blooded hope roaring defiance against the heavens and their superior beings. Stoic refusal to give into despair, even in the darkest moments.
And sometimes it even works!
. . . That's the amazing thing about humans.
There's the chance that one day a human would stepped out of its cave even without inverention, looked up at the stars, and decided- in its primitive understanding of language- that it wanted to go there. And that's just so unlikely, that human concept of hope which rose to fight away the despair. Two sides of the same coin, forever fighting each other.
It's even carried in bloodlines, on the forward looking- let's call it face- side. There's a predisposition in the genetics somewhere, carried through hundreds of years in the blood, that takes a beaten and bloody person and tells them to stand up! Of course, the opposite is true as well. No actions without an equal and opposite reaction and all that.
Continuing the metaphor, there is an edge-side to the coin as well, the thing keeping the two faces opposite each other. It's what creates a use for the two sides, what binds them together and keeps them apart. It's a lot of things, but what it's usually doing is making a huge mess- for a good cause it protests, and maybe that's enough.
That's for you to decide.
You don't want to decide? Well that's too bad! This is a story, after all, and stories need things like decisions.
. . . No?
Well then the coin decides, and then- the story begins with a fight, like all good stories.
How does the coin land?
[] F-
Oh. Heads.
By all predictions it should have landed on tails! As one of those on the edge side of the coin, I suppose I should be disappointed about that, but I'm not. Disappointment is a step towards despair, and that is something that my kind never bothered to emulate.
Still, I should always offer a choice regardless.
So . . .
Who are you?
[] Pink
[] Black
[] Blue
[] Spiderwebs
[] Hat hair
[] Old
Character
TPK
Hello, friend.
Name: Joseph Joestar
Age: 92
Height: 195 cm
Hair: white
Eyes: blue
Stand: Hermit Purple
Condition: OLD
Heroic Willpower Remaining: 5
Name: Shizuka Joestar
Age: 13
Height: 160 cm
Hair: brown
Eyes: brown, one golden star shaped pupil
Stand: Achtung Baby
Condition: Hot Blooded
Heroic Willpower Remaining: 6
Age: 92
Height: 195 cm
Hair: white
Eyes: blue
Stand: Hermit Purple
Condition: OLD
Heroic Willpower Remaining: 5
Name: Shizuka Joestar
Age: 13
Height: 160 cm
Hair: brown
Eyes: brown, one golden star shaped pupil
Stand: Achtung Baby
Condition: Hot Blooded
Heroic Willpower Remaining: 6
Last edited:
002
TPK
Hello, friend.
Vote tally:
##### 3.19
13 Spiderwebs
13 Blue
7 Hat Hair
6 Pink
27 Old
4 Black
". . . This isn't the right train car." You realize with a start.
"Da you ned direction." The man beside you asks, and you stare in confusion at his bland, polite expression. That's . . . not any language you recognize.
Then you realize that you'd spoken to yourself in English, your native tongue. The man beside you probably meant, "Do I need directions? No. I'm visiting my daughter, and misread the signs." You reply in Japanese that's probably a little old-fashioned by now.
You must have learned the language what, almost thirty years ago?
But the man in the suit (okay, but worse than any suits you used to wear on the job) stares at you in shock.
"What?" You snap, and rap the floor of the train car with your cane. "Can't an old man visit his daughter without being gawked at?"
"Apologies." The man mutters as he looks away, and your heart twinges. You hurt his feelings, and now he's probably going to go drink his shame away, or whatever modern Japanese do when they get upset.
It's been five years since you saw your daughter, Holy Joestar. They just . . . seem to go by so fast these days.
You feel the ache in your bones, the twinge in your heart. Your veins stand out on your skin like they used to in your heyday, when you really pushed the envelope.
When the train stops you exit, hopping the gap. You're still spry, for all your brittle bones.
Long, warm coat billowing slightly in the breeze, you make your way to the station directory and peer at it, eventually giving in and pulling out your spectacles to read all the stupid little picture words.
". . . Back a station, then take B line four stops, and I'll hire a cab from there. Right." You decide, and decide to give in all the way and put on your hat. It's a nice hat, like a deerstalker cap but with earflaps that you take care not to mess up your white hair with when you slide it on.
Getting to the other side of the tracks takes a bit because you have to stop after climbing the stairs. "Damn. I really am getting old." You wheeze. "Need to start . . . jogging or something. Maybe . . ."
You look at your hands. For a second an inch-wide purple vine writhes between your fingers, speckled with green thorns to grab and tear. Hermit Purple, your Stand. It's not very impressive, never was, but with your old body, well.
That old familiar feeling rises in your belly again. You want to roam the world as you did in your younger days, to see strange sights, meet strange people, and fight them before becoming friends- pen pals at the least! You're still only seventy-nine years old, for God's sake! You've still got another twenty years in you yet to fill with- with adventure, and excitement, and- and . . .
". . . And oh my God."
You stop walking.
"This isn't station fourteen-eleven."
Your voice echoes through, and you make sure your glasses are still on, a genuine princess' castle. The floor is gleaming white marble, the walls painted pastel shades, and there's a chandelier on the ceiling every twenty feet. Using your expert skills as a veteran real estate agent, you poke one of the corridor walls to make sure it's real.
When you pull your hand back, your glove is coated in a thin layer of- you lick- "Fudge. And the floor is something else, obviously."
You contemplate getting down to lick the floor as well as the wall, but then remember that today isn't a good day for your back. If you get down on your hands and knees, you're probably not getting back up.
Your mind is still keen, though, so you quickly summarize the situation for your own benefit. "Took the wrong train, ended up in a different city. Japanese still can't speak proper English worth a damn. Ended up in a candy castle. There's," You look back, "No visible way back, and a fork in the hallway ahead. No windows that I can see, and I wouldn't buy this property for a bottle of coke."
Putting all that together, you can't help but smile a little. "This sounds like the work of an enemy Stand." You whisper, almost disbelievingly.
It's been at least ten years since you met a hostile Stand user- normally they go after your grandson these days.
From the right fork, you hear sudden sounds of combat, the familiar whir of blades and dull whumping sound of big cannon. To the left, no sound. But behind you, you can barely make out a soft . . . giggling?
Well all of those sound interesting, but you've half a mind to just sit down against the wall and go to sleep. You're tired.
[] Go left
[] Go right
[] Go back
[] Go to sleep
##### 3.19
13 Spiderwebs
13 Blue
7 Hat Hair
6 Pink
27 Old
4 Black
". . . This isn't the right train car." You realize with a start.
"Da you ned direction." The man beside you asks, and you stare in confusion at his bland, polite expression. That's . . . not any language you recognize.
Then you realize that you'd spoken to yourself in English, your native tongue. The man beside you probably meant, "Do I need directions? No. I'm visiting my daughter, and misread the signs." You reply in Japanese that's probably a little old-fashioned by now.
You must have learned the language what, almost thirty years ago?
But the man in the suit (okay, but worse than any suits you used to wear on the job) stares at you in shock.
"What?" You snap, and rap the floor of the train car with your cane. "Can't an old man visit his daughter without being gawked at?"
"Apologies." The man mutters as he looks away, and your heart twinges. You hurt his feelings, and now he's probably going to go drink his shame away, or whatever modern Japanese do when they get upset.
It's been five years since you saw your daughter, Holy Joestar. They just . . . seem to go by so fast these days.
You feel the ache in your bones, the twinge in your heart. Your veins stand out on your skin like they used to in your heyday, when you really pushed the envelope.
When the train stops you exit, hopping the gap. You're still spry, for all your brittle bones.
Long, warm coat billowing slightly in the breeze, you make your way to the station directory and peer at it, eventually giving in and pulling out your spectacles to read all the stupid little picture words.
". . . Back a station, then take B line four stops, and I'll hire a cab from there. Right." You decide, and decide to give in all the way and put on your hat. It's a nice hat, like a deerstalker cap but with earflaps that you take care not to mess up your white hair with when you slide it on.
Getting to the other side of the tracks takes a bit because you have to stop after climbing the stairs. "Damn. I really am getting old." You wheeze. "Need to start . . . jogging or something. Maybe . . ."
You look at your hands. For a second an inch-wide purple vine writhes between your fingers, speckled with green thorns to grab and tear. Hermit Purple, your Stand. It's not very impressive, never was, but with your old body, well.
That old familiar feeling rises in your belly again. You want to roam the world as you did in your younger days, to see strange sights, meet strange people, and fight them before becoming friends- pen pals at the least! You're still only seventy-nine years old, for God's sake! You've still got another twenty years in you yet to fill with- with adventure, and excitement, and- and . . .
". . . And oh my God."
You stop walking.
"This isn't station fourteen-eleven."
Your voice echoes through, and you make sure your glasses are still on, a genuine princess' castle. The floor is gleaming white marble, the walls painted pastel shades, and there's a chandelier on the ceiling every twenty feet. Using your expert skills as a veteran real estate agent, you poke one of the corridor walls to make sure it's real.
When you pull your hand back, your glove is coated in a thin layer of- you lick- "Fudge. And the floor is something else, obviously."
You contemplate getting down to lick the floor as well as the wall, but then remember that today isn't a good day for your back. If you get down on your hands and knees, you're probably not getting back up.
Your mind is still keen, though, so you quickly summarize the situation for your own benefit. "Took the wrong train, ended up in a different city. Japanese still can't speak proper English worth a damn. Ended up in a candy castle. There's," You look back, "No visible way back, and a fork in the hallway ahead. No windows that I can see, and I wouldn't buy this property for a bottle of coke."
Putting all that together, you can't help but smile a little. "This sounds like the work of an enemy Stand." You whisper, almost disbelievingly.
It's been at least ten years since you met a hostile Stand user- normally they go after your grandson these days.
From the right fork, you hear sudden sounds of combat, the familiar whir of blades and dull whumping sound of big cannon. To the left, no sound. But behind you, you can barely make out a soft . . . giggling?
Well all of those sound interesting, but you've half a mind to just sit down against the wall and go to sleep. You're tired.
[] Go left
[] Go right
[] Go back
[] Go to sleep
003
TPK
Hello, friend.
34 Go left
10 Go right.
2 Go back.
"Eugh." You mutter to yourself under your breath. "Silence. That's odd."
So you start down the lefthand hallway moving at a comfortable walk, making the best of your cane to ease the pressure on your lower back. The hallways sort of repeats every twenty feet or so, you notice. The patterns in the marble floor are the same ahead of you as behind you, and every chandelier is exactly the same, which is beyond suspicious.
You're beginning to think that you weren't so much transported to a place by a Stand as taken inside a Stand. Do you know of any Stands that do that sort of thing?
There was that kid with Pop Rocks, but. . . he's digging wells in Central America for the Speedwagon Foundation, isn't he? And he doesn't make a castle made of sweets.
You think.
You really hope it isn't your memory going next. It'd be a shame to lose your edge.
"The best thing about silence," You say as you walk past what must be the fiftieth chandelier, "is that no matter how hard you try, you're not!"
Your hand sweeps out to the side and then shoots behind you, extending and turning sharply to create a thicket of glowing purple vines around the person lurking behind you!
You turn to get a look at your captive, and- "OH! MY! GOD!" You scream at the top of your lungs. "YOU'RE MADE OF-"
She looks most like an old-fashioned maid, like your wife used to be before you married her. Plain black dress, white apron, white frills. Face that's actually one of those M&M cookies a foot across, with the candies arranged like a smiley face.
And then she grabs your Hermit Purple with two of her gloved hands, joints moving jerkily- like old motion pictures- and tries to tear it off of her.
You feel the strain for a moment and double up the psychic vine. Hermit Purple is tough enough to tie up any number of New York beat cops- whoever's Stand this cookie-maid is, it's got a hell of a wallop!
The Stand stops struggling after several seconds, and the candies on its cookie-face rearrange into an expression of intense dislike.
"( >:[ )" It says, and you blink.
"What?"
"( >:[ )"
And then you get it. Whatever this Stand is, it communicates at least partially through a psychic medium! Your Hermit Purple's main ability, Psychic Photography, is all about discovering and displaying things visually. You remember that one time, you used it to change the channels on a faraway television so that the words its speakers said spelled out a message for you- so meeting another psychic presence halfway and broadcasting its signals as visuals isn't all that strange!
"Hello?" You greet the Stand, and it's eyes change from brown candies to blue.
"( |: ? )"
For a moment you hear more giggling, back down the way you came, but it recedes into the distance again. The sounds of battle continue unabated.
It looks like . . . you have an opportunity.
[] Question the Stand
- [] Which questions?
[] Let the Stand go as a show of faith.
[] Tell it to lead you to its master.
[] Write in
10 Go right.
2 Go back.
"Eugh." You mutter to yourself under your breath. "Silence. That's odd."
So you start down the lefthand hallway moving at a comfortable walk, making the best of your cane to ease the pressure on your lower back. The hallways sort of repeats every twenty feet or so, you notice. The patterns in the marble floor are the same ahead of you as behind you, and every chandelier is exactly the same, which is beyond suspicious.
You're beginning to think that you weren't so much transported to a place by a Stand as taken inside a Stand. Do you know of any Stands that do that sort of thing?
There was that kid with Pop Rocks, but. . . he's digging wells in Central America for the Speedwagon Foundation, isn't he? And he doesn't make a castle made of sweets.
You think.
You really hope it isn't your memory going next. It'd be a shame to lose your edge.
"The best thing about silence," You say as you walk past what must be the fiftieth chandelier, "is that no matter how hard you try, you're not!"
Your hand sweeps out to the side and then shoots behind you, extending and turning sharply to create a thicket of glowing purple vines around the person lurking behind you!
You turn to get a look at your captive, and- "OH! MY! GOD!" You scream at the top of your lungs. "YOU'RE MADE OF-"
She looks most like an old-fashioned maid, like your wife used to be before you married her. Plain black dress, white apron, white frills. Face that's actually one of those M&M cookies a foot across, with the candies arranged like a smiley face.
And then she grabs your Hermit Purple with two of her gloved hands, joints moving jerkily- like old motion pictures- and tries to tear it off of her.
You feel the strain for a moment and double up the psychic vine. Hermit Purple is tough enough to tie up any number of New York beat cops- whoever's Stand this cookie-maid is, it's got a hell of a wallop!
The Stand stops struggling after several seconds, and the candies on its cookie-face rearrange into an expression of intense dislike.
"( >:[ )" It says, and you blink.
"What?"
"( >:[ )"
And then you get it. Whatever this Stand is, it communicates at least partially through a psychic medium! Your Hermit Purple's main ability, Psychic Photography, is all about discovering and displaying things visually. You remember that one time, you used it to change the channels on a faraway television so that the words its speakers said spelled out a message for you- so meeting another psychic presence halfway and broadcasting its signals as visuals isn't all that strange!
"Hello?" You greet the Stand, and it's eyes change from brown candies to blue.
"( |: ? )"
For a moment you hear more giggling, back down the way you came, but it recedes into the distance again. The sounds of battle continue unabated.
It looks like . . . you have an opportunity.
[] Question the Stand
- [] Which questions?
[] Let the Stand go as a show of faith.
[] Tell it to lead you to its master.
[] Write in
004
TPK
Hello, friend.
[]Do you know where your Stand User is?
-[] Do you know where this place is?
--[] Do you know how to get back out?
---[] Do you know what you are?
----[] Can you take me to someone who can explain these things?
"Do you know where your- of course you do." You have no idea why you started to ask if it knows where its master is. It's a Stand, and with very few exceptions they're basically extensions of their user's subconscious desire. Asking a Stand or its master if they know where the other is is like asking of somebody knows where their hand is.
"( : ? )"
A better question, then. "Do you know where I am?" You ask.
The cookie maid's expression doesn't change.
"( : ? )"
"Do you know how to get out of here?"
"( : D )"
You recoil as the cookie splits open and then crashes back down, recognizing the exaggerated gesture instantly. "Yeah, well that's not happening, dough girl."
"( :'[ )"
But there's something else making you uneasy. Stands . . . aren't normally self-aware in the way that people or intelligent animals are. You've never met one smarter than, for instance, Iggy.
But this one- it's displaying emotions, and not just by rearranging its face. Its posture changes within the limits of the bindings you made out of Hermit Purple, and most Stands just don't do that sort of thing unless they're being directly controlled by their master. But if this cookie maid were being controlled directly, surely its master would have used it to draw on the floor or walls ton communicate with you.
It's a real conundrum, and not one that you like.
"Do you know . . . what you are?" You ask, and sigh when the Stand gives a familiar reply.
"( : ? )"
Not a rampaging, masterless, Stand then. Good. Those things are just the worst.
"Well then," You decide to take a gamble, and retract Hermit Purple. "Take me to somebody who can explain these things."
"( : ? )"
"Somebody important, your master!" You snap, now irritated, and the cookie maid Stand (You really need to find out its name), leaps into action, rushing back down the hall in the direction you'd just come!
"Get back here!" You shout, and give chase!
. . . At least until your lungs remind you that you're in no shape to be running. You stop, heaving for air and bracing one hand on the wall and the other on your cane to keep you from falling over. "Wait. Up." You pant.
When you look up the Stand is there, right in front of you.
"( : | )"
"Bite me. I'm old." You explain with all the good grace you can muster. "Unless you're going to pick me up, I'm not going anywhere for a- hey! WATCH THE HIP!"
The Stand grabs you about the shoulders and sweeps you knees up, cradling you like a baby in arms that are suddenly much longer and stronger than they looked like a moment before, and then it takes off down the hallway at a respectable clip.
You remember another time when you moved so fast, screaming down an Italian road with . . . with . . . it was Switzerland, not Italy, and you were with your grandmother and Ceasar. You still have his ribbon.
The Stand jumps up suddenly, contorting both itself and you to somehow fit through a minute passage hidden in the ceiling, and you come out . . .
It's a large room, and you're set down at the edge of it. A ballroom with a polished wooden floor and one grand chandelier on the ceiling four times as big as the ones in the hallways. A teenaged girl in a red and white dress spins in combat with a ten-foot tall woman wearing a multicolored flowing dress. She's made of brown material, speckled with colorful dots that extend into spikes that the girl cuts off with a flexible spear.
She's not half bad.
The cookie maid Stand rushes forward, and you realize that it's not the actual Stand at all, but it must be a part of this place, because there are more of her lurking around the corners and edges of the room.
Suddenly the giant's arm separates from her body in a flash of steel, and she screams in agony.
This is the signal for the cookie maids to make their move!
The demi-Stands pull kitchen-knives and utensils out of their sleeves and rush forward in a coordinated assault, and they fall like men before a machine gun as soon as they get within range of the redheaded girl's spear, none of them getting closer than three meters before she bisects them or cuts of their heads.
But in the time it takes for her to deal with the minions and for you to gain your feet again, the figure that you recognize as the real Stand begins to blacken like it's- "Oh! I get it!" You snap your fingers. "She's made of cookie dough!"
The girl in red's head swivels to face you, shock written plainly on her face. "What- When did you get here?"
"Watch out for the Stand!" You shout as its back explodes outwards and a pair of rainbow colored wings shoot out of the gap. They're huge!
The girl starts to level her spear again, but your appearance shocked her enough that she's slower now, no longer 'in the zone' as kids these days would put it, and even as her gaze leaves you the Stand practically vaporizes as a reptilian mouth as big as she is bursts out of its face!
[] Use Hermit Purple to foul the Stand's wings!
[] Bind the Stand's mouth shut with Hermit Purple!
[] Try to pull the chandelier down on it with your Stand!
[] Pull the girl away from the Stand with Hermit Purple!
[] Write in
-[] Do you know where this place is?
--[] Do you know how to get back out?
---[] Do you know what you are?
----[] Can you take me to someone who can explain these things?
"Do you know where your- of course you do." You have no idea why you started to ask if it knows where its master is. It's a Stand, and with very few exceptions they're basically extensions of their user's subconscious desire. Asking a Stand or its master if they know where the other is is like asking of somebody knows where their hand is.
"( : ? )"
A better question, then. "Do you know where I am?" You ask.
The cookie maid's expression doesn't change.
"( : ? )"
"Do you know how to get out of here?"
"( : D )"
You recoil as the cookie splits open and then crashes back down, recognizing the exaggerated gesture instantly. "Yeah, well that's not happening, dough girl."
"( :'[ )"
But there's something else making you uneasy. Stands . . . aren't normally self-aware in the way that people or intelligent animals are. You've never met one smarter than, for instance, Iggy.
But this one- it's displaying emotions, and not just by rearranging its face. Its posture changes within the limits of the bindings you made out of Hermit Purple, and most Stands just don't do that sort of thing unless they're being directly controlled by their master. But if this cookie maid were being controlled directly, surely its master would have used it to draw on the floor or walls ton communicate with you.
It's a real conundrum, and not one that you like.
"Do you know . . . what you are?" You ask, and sigh when the Stand gives a familiar reply.
"( : ? )"
Not a rampaging, masterless, Stand then. Good. Those things are just the worst.
"Well then," You decide to take a gamble, and retract Hermit Purple. "Take me to somebody who can explain these things."
"( : ? )"
"Somebody important, your master!" You snap, now irritated, and the cookie maid Stand (You really need to find out its name), leaps into action, rushing back down the hall in the direction you'd just come!
"Get back here!" You shout, and give chase!
. . . At least until your lungs remind you that you're in no shape to be running. You stop, heaving for air and bracing one hand on the wall and the other on your cane to keep you from falling over. "Wait. Up." You pant.
When you look up the Stand is there, right in front of you.
"( : | )"
"Bite me. I'm old." You explain with all the good grace you can muster. "Unless you're going to pick me up, I'm not going anywhere for a- hey! WATCH THE HIP!"
The Stand grabs you about the shoulders and sweeps you knees up, cradling you like a baby in arms that are suddenly much longer and stronger than they looked like a moment before, and then it takes off down the hallway at a respectable clip.
You remember another time when you moved so fast, screaming down an Italian road with . . . with . . . it was Switzerland, not Italy, and you were with your grandmother and Ceasar. You still have his ribbon.
The Stand jumps up suddenly, contorting both itself and you to somehow fit through a minute passage hidden in the ceiling, and you come out . . .
It's a large room, and you're set down at the edge of it. A ballroom with a polished wooden floor and one grand chandelier on the ceiling four times as big as the ones in the hallways. A teenaged girl in a red and white dress spins in combat with a ten-foot tall woman wearing a multicolored flowing dress. She's made of brown material, speckled with colorful dots that extend into spikes that the girl cuts off with a flexible spear.
She's not half bad.
The cookie maid Stand rushes forward, and you realize that it's not the actual Stand at all, but it must be a part of this place, because there are more of her lurking around the corners and edges of the room.
Suddenly the giant's arm separates from her body in a flash of steel, and she screams in agony.
This is the signal for the cookie maids to make their move!
The demi-Stands pull kitchen-knives and utensils out of their sleeves and rush forward in a coordinated assault, and they fall like men before a machine gun as soon as they get within range of the redheaded girl's spear, none of them getting closer than three meters before she bisects them or cuts of their heads.
But in the time it takes for her to deal with the minions and for you to gain your feet again, the figure that you recognize as the real Stand begins to blacken like it's- "Oh! I get it!" You snap your fingers. "She's made of cookie dough!"
The girl in red's head swivels to face you, shock written plainly on her face. "What- When did you get here?"
"Watch out for the Stand!" You shout as its back explodes outwards and a pair of rainbow colored wings shoot out of the gap. They're huge!
The girl starts to level her spear again, but your appearance shocked her enough that she's slower now, no longer 'in the zone' as kids these days would put it, and even as her gaze leaves you the Stand practically vaporizes as a reptilian mouth as big as she is bursts out of its face!
[] Use Hermit Purple to foul the Stand's wings!
[] Bind the Stand's mouth shut with Hermit Purple!
[] Try to pull the chandelier down on it with your Stand!
[] Pull the girl away from the Stand with Hermit Purple!
[] Write in
005
TPK
Hello, friend.
[14]Watch out!
-[14] Pull the girl away from the Stand with Hermit Purple!
[6] Pull the girl away from the Stand with Hermit Purple!
[2] Try to pull the chandelier down on it with your Stand!
[5] Use Hermit Purple to foul the Stand's wings!
[2] DIIIOOOOO!
-[2] Wait, that's not who you're fighting now. Use Hermit Purple to pull the girl away from the Enemy Stand
[1] Bind the Stand's mouth shut with Hermit Purple!
[1] Watch Out!
-[1] Use Hermit Purple to make a makeshift ball gag out of vines in the enemy stand's mouth to keep it from biting.
[1] Forget what you're doing here.
-[1] Oh boy delicious cookie dough!
"Watch out!" You shout a warning to the girl, making her look back at you and oh that isn't what you meant to happen.
Inspiration races through your mind as a multicolored dragon bursts fully out of its princess shell of overbaked cookie, and even as the great beast lunges forward Hermit Purple grabs the slip of a girl by the ankles and pulls her legs out from under her, causing the dragon's jaws to clash shut just over her head.
You stumble forward, pulled by Hermit Purple where it comes out of your hand even as you pull the smaller girl, jarring your shoulder and sending a lance of pain that reminds you you're not as young as you used to be.
The girl tumbles away from the Stand while you're recovering and sweeps her spear out in a horizontal arc that cuts its legs out from under it. The limbs skid away on the slick wooden floors, dissolving into heaps of tiny multicolored candies that the girl dances lightly over.
"YAAH!" She shouts, and brings her spear down like an executioners axe onto the dragon's neck. Spikes of green, red, and purple candy flare to stop the weapon, but it cuts right through them and separates the head from neck with one clean slice!
The dragon-Stand screams and wails voicelessly, then explodes into a cloud of black mist that slows, then quickly condenses into a small shiny thing that rings like a bell when it hits the floor.
The girl in the red jacket- really it's more like a really fancy jacket with tails than a dress- swoops in to snatch it up. Then she rounds on you, spear held at the ready. "Who are you, huh?" She demands aggressively.
"Joseph Joestar." You say, and touch the brim of your hat with your right hand. "Who're you, brat?"
"Sakura Kyoko." She says, and snatches up a bundle of the candies on the ground. After looking at them dubiously, she drops them. "And who are you calling a brat?"
You give her your best steady look, which isn't really that good any more. "You, brat. You know how to get out of this place, or is my w . . . my daughter going to kill me because I died of eating too much bad candy?"
"Tsh." The girl's hands move as if searching for pockets, but find none. She doesn't look very old, sixteen at the most.
"And I called you a brat because you're not even old enough to drive, girl." You snap, and tap your cane on the floor. "Now get over here and show your elder where the exit is."
"There is no exit." She sneers. "You may have blundered through the labyrinth through some miracle of luck, but you're going to get eaten by a familiar before the barrier goes down, and I'm not going to burden myself with some half-dead old man."
"That hurts." You protest. "Joseph Joestar does not blunder."
The girl in red darts forward in response, hand reaching out to snatch your glasses off your face in a familiar motion, and you react on instinct.
Hermit Purple- you already know that it can touch her, which means that she's got a lot of fighting spirit, so she should also be able to-
"Kyoko!"
The girl aborts the attack, spear still held at the ready, but . . .
You don't see who it was that called out to her, but Kyoko glances off to the side, where there's not anything.
"Kyoko, what is that?"
"Just some old man."
Oh hell no you aren't just 'some old man', you're- you're- You're not going to just stand here and watch a teenager with a spear talk to some invisible being! You get enough of that at home! You're Joseph Joestar, and you know exactly how to get out of this place.
Choose one
[] Bribing the girl with stuff
[] Getting into her good books
[] Beating her up and making friends
[] Threatening the invisible person
[] write in
Choose one
[] Burn Heroic Willpower
[] Do not use Heroic Willpower
Mechanic: Heroic Willpower. You can ignore injury, fatigue, handicaps, and even age itself for a short while by using Heroic Willpower. Unfortunately, they don't come back after you use them, and you start with four (4). If there comes to be a juncture where you might want to use one, I'll prompt you, but you can always add "and use Heroic Willpower" to a vote to add the same enhancing effect to an action that doesn't need it.
-[14] Pull the girl away from the Stand with Hermit Purple!
[6] Pull the girl away from the Stand with Hermit Purple!
[2] Try to pull the chandelier down on it with your Stand!
[5] Use Hermit Purple to foul the Stand's wings!
[2] DIIIOOOOO!
-[2] Wait, that's not who you're fighting now. Use Hermit Purple to pull the girl away from the Enemy Stand
[1] Bind the Stand's mouth shut with Hermit Purple!
[1] Watch Out!
-[1] Use Hermit Purple to make a makeshift ball gag out of vines in the enemy stand's mouth to keep it from biting.
[1] Forget what you're doing here.
-[1] Oh boy delicious cookie dough!
"Watch out!" You shout a warning to the girl, making her look back at you and oh that isn't what you meant to happen.
Inspiration races through your mind as a multicolored dragon bursts fully out of its princess shell of overbaked cookie, and even as the great beast lunges forward Hermit Purple grabs the slip of a girl by the ankles and pulls her legs out from under her, causing the dragon's jaws to clash shut just over her head.
You stumble forward, pulled by Hermit Purple where it comes out of your hand even as you pull the smaller girl, jarring your shoulder and sending a lance of pain that reminds you you're not as young as you used to be.
The girl tumbles away from the Stand while you're recovering and sweeps her spear out in a horizontal arc that cuts its legs out from under it. The limbs skid away on the slick wooden floors, dissolving into heaps of tiny multicolored candies that the girl dances lightly over.
"YAAH!" She shouts, and brings her spear down like an executioners axe onto the dragon's neck. Spikes of green, red, and purple candy flare to stop the weapon, but it cuts right through them and separates the head from neck with one clean slice!
The dragon-Stand screams and wails voicelessly, then explodes into a cloud of black mist that slows, then quickly condenses into a small shiny thing that rings like a bell when it hits the floor.
The girl in the red jacket- really it's more like a really fancy jacket with tails than a dress- swoops in to snatch it up. Then she rounds on you, spear held at the ready. "Who are you, huh?" She demands aggressively.
"Joseph Joestar." You say, and touch the brim of your hat with your right hand. "Who're you, brat?"
"Sakura Kyoko." She says, and snatches up a bundle of the candies on the ground. After looking at them dubiously, she drops them. "And who are you calling a brat?"
You give her your best steady look, which isn't really that good any more. "You, brat. You know how to get out of this place, or is my w . . . my daughter going to kill me because I died of eating too much bad candy?"
"Tsh." The girl's hands move as if searching for pockets, but find none. She doesn't look very old, sixteen at the most.
"And I called you a brat because you're not even old enough to drive, girl." You snap, and tap your cane on the floor. "Now get over here and show your elder where the exit is."
"There is no exit." She sneers. "You may have blundered through the labyrinth through some miracle of luck, but you're going to get eaten by a familiar before the barrier goes down, and I'm not going to burden myself with some half-dead old man."
"That hurts." You protest. "Joseph Joestar does not blunder."
The girl in red darts forward in response, hand reaching out to snatch your glasses off your face in a familiar motion, and you react on instinct.
Hermit Purple- you already know that it can touch her, which means that she's got a lot of fighting spirit, so she should also be able to-
"Kyoko!"
The girl aborts the attack, spear still held at the ready, but . . .
You don't see who it was that called out to her, but Kyoko glances off to the side, where there's not anything.
"Kyoko, what is that?"
"Just some old man."
Oh hell no you aren't just 'some old man', you're- you're- You're not going to just stand here and watch a teenager with a spear talk to some invisible being! You get enough of that at home! You're Joseph Joestar, and you know exactly how to get out of this place.
Choose one
[] Bribing the girl with stuff
[] Getting into her good books
[] Beating her up and making friends
[] Threatening the invisible person
[] write in
Choose one
[] Burn Heroic Willpower
[] Do not use Heroic Willpower
Mechanic: Heroic Willpower. You can ignore injury, fatigue, handicaps, and even age itself for a short while by using Heroic Willpower. Unfortunately, they don't come back after you use them, and you start with four (4). If there comes to be a juncture where you might want to use one, I'll prompt you, but you can always add "and use Heroic Willpower" to a vote to add the same enhancing effect to an action that doesn't need it.
006
TPK
Hello, friend.
[35] Use Hermit Purple to make a candy map showing the exit.
[44] Do not use Heroic Willpower.
"Could some old man do this?" You huff, which devolves into an actual coughing fit that continues on for almost a minute.
Kyoko looks at you with something like contempt on her face, then she rolls her eyes. "Yes."
"This," you say, drawing Hermit Purple back until just a few inches of the thorny vine protrude from your hand, "is my Stand. The culmination of my drive and willpower, and more than that- it's got a nasty trick."
The girl stares at you blankly.
With a burst of willpower, Hermit Purple drives down and strikes the wooden floor at your feet! Cracks spiderweb out in lines and sharp corners from your feet.
"Big deal." Kyoko grunts. "I'm leaving."
And she does, the unobservant little twit.
"That's a map of the labyrinth." The invisible presence says from in front of you. "Remarkable."
"The only problem is that it's limited by the suitability of nearby materials." You grunt out as you examine the map, adjusting your glasses to bring the finer cracks into focus. "And that I don't see an exit. I don't suppose you know where it is, uh- OH I'M SORRY! My name's Joseph Joestar. Pleased to meet you."
You hold out your hand expectantly. ". . . Wherever you are right now. Can you turn visible so I can get a good look at you?"
"My name is Kyubey, but you're too old to see me. I'm only visible to children, and usually only to girls. It's a very unusual circumstance I will admit!" The psychic voice says to you, conducted from the ambient air into your body with Hermit Purple.
"Well, whadya look like then?"
In response a chunk of the wall the size of a pen breaks off and floats over to the edge of your map, where it sketches out an image on the floor. It's a small catlike, ferret-esque thing with pointed ears and a flat face, and a second set of ear-ribbon things coming out of its first ears.
It looks uuuuglee.
"Huh."
"And as to your earlier question, there is no way to leave a labyrinth once you have been lured inside, however, the Witch's barrier will fall shortly, and then its labyrinth will collapse."
"Oh, good then. Any idea whether there are more of those . . . cookie-monster 'familiar' things around?"
Kyubey is silent for a moment, then Hermit Purple picks up its psychic 'speech' again. "I do not believe so. When a Witch calls its familiars to defend itself from attack, in almost all cases they either die before the Witch or the intruder perishes. As Kyoko defeated it, there should be no familiars remaining to eat you."
Oh, well that's good news. But now that your survival and escape are assured, you have questions.
"You're going to ask if I can explain things, of course." The thing says, which is just plain creepy.
"While I can, I think that we would get better tangible results if I led you to Kyoko and let her explain the situation about Witches and Puella Magi such as herself. Alternately, Mitakihara is close by, and a friendlier Puella Magi like Mami might be a better choice. And then you can explain your Stand in return! It'd be a fair trade of information."
The world around you slows, then fades away in a moment, leaving you standing at the train terminal once again.
[] Travel to Mitakihara to meet with Mami
[] Go find Kyoko, make peace, and swap info.
[] You'd rather talk to Kyubey about this.
[] Actually, you just remembered why you're here.
[44] Do not use Heroic Willpower.
"Could some old man do this?" You huff, which devolves into an actual coughing fit that continues on for almost a minute.
Kyoko looks at you with something like contempt on her face, then she rolls her eyes. "Yes."
"This," you say, drawing Hermit Purple back until just a few inches of the thorny vine protrude from your hand, "is my Stand. The culmination of my drive and willpower, and more than that- it's got a nasty trick."
The girl stares at you blankly.
With a burst of willpower, Hermit Purple drives down and strikes the wooden floor at your feet! Cracks spiderweb out in lines and sharp corners from your feet.
"Big deal." Kyoko grunts. "I'm leaving."
And she does, the unobservant little twit.
"That's a map of the labyrinth." The invisible presence says from in front of you. "Remarkable."
"The only problem is that it's limited by the suitability of nearby materials." You grunt out as you examine the map, adjusting your glasses to bring the finer cracks into focus. "And that I don't see an exit. I don't suppose you know where it is, uh- OH I'M SORRY! My name's Joseph Joestar. Pleased to meet you."
You hold out your hand expectantly. ". . . Wherever you are right now. Can you turn visible so I can get a good look at you?"
"My name is Kyubey, but you're too old to see me. I'm only visible to children, and usually only to girls. It's a very unusual circumstance I will admit!" The psychic voice says to you, conducted from the ambient air into your body with Hermit Purple.
"Well, whadya look like then?"
In response a chunk of the wall the size of a pen breaks off and floats over to the edge of your map, where it sketches out an image on the floor. It's a small catlike, ferret-esque thing with pointed ears and a flat face, and a second set of ear-ribbon things coming out of its first ears.
It looks uuuuglee.
"Huh."
"And as to your earlier question, there is no way to leave a labyrinth once you have been lured inside, however, the Witch's barrier will fall shortly, and then its labyrinth will collapse."
"Oh, good then. Any idea whether there are more of those . . . cookie-monster 'familiar' things around?"
Kyubey is silent for a moment, then Hermit Purple picks up its psychic 'speech' again. "I do not believe so. When a Witch calls its familiars to defend itself from attack, in almost all cases they either die before the Witch or the intruder perishes. As Kyoko defeated it, there should be no familiars remaining to eat you."
Oh, well that's good news. But now that your survival and escape are assured, you have questions.
"You're going to ask if I can explain things, of course." The thing says, which is just plain creepy.
"While I can, I think that we would get better tangible results if I led you to Kyoko and let her explain the situation about Witches and Puella Magi such as herself. Alternately, Mitakihara is close by, and a friendlier Puella Magi like Mami might be a better choice. And then you can explain your Stand in return! It'd be a fair trade of information."
The world around you slows, then fades away in a moment, leaving you standing at the train terminal once again.
[] Travel to Mitakihara to meet with Mami
[] Go find Kyoko, make peace, and swap info.
[] You'd rather talk to Kyubey about this.
[] Actually, you just remembered why you're here.
007
TPK
Hello, friend.
[10] Go find Kyoko, make peace, and swap info.
[2] You'd rather talk to Kyubey about this.
[23] Actually, you just remembered why you're here.
[1] Travel to Mitakihara to meet with Mami
You snap your fingers. Of course, you're wearing gloves so you don't actually snap them, but that's not important. "That's right! I can't believe I forgot."
"Oh, where does she-"
You talk right over the psychic voice. "I need to catch the next train to visit my daughter."
And then you turn on your heel and start off towards the ticket office. After you purchase your ticket you pull out your trusty Walkman and a pair of noise-cancelling earbuds, which are like headphones except that they go inside your ear instead of outside them. It's not actually your old Walkman, or a Walkman at all anymore. It looks like one, but you don't have to carry around a bag of tapes any more, which is pretty damn neat if you do say so yourself.
You pried it open and wired in the doohickies from one of those iPod things with a better battery, and now it just goes on and on without needing to be plugged in.
As your train pulls out, you catch a glimpse of something small, white, and fast-moving on the platform, but by the time you get your glasses back on to look the train's pulled away from the station.
Your music soothes you without putting you to sleep. No vocals, but modern rock is a gamble that you don't feel like betting on at the moment.
That . . . witch, Kyubey had called it.
People that don't reveal themselves really piss you off. Kyubey isn't human, if it wasn't lying about what he- you'll call it he- looks like. There are stranger things than Stands out there, but you'll go with the simple explanation for now. Assuming that Kyubey is a long range Stand with the power to be invisible to anyone over a certain age would make finding its master the first step to getting answers out of it.
Oh yes, you haven't forgotten him, you muse as you get off the train and hail a cab, it's just that family comes first. You're not that old yet, but you really do need to see Holy- she's the reason you're even in Japan in the first place. Josuke is . . . off doing something in Korea, you're not sure what exactly. Jotaro left to go help his daughter out of a jam a while ago- you forget exactly when.
You don't keep track of those two, really. They're grown men now, and can take care of themselves, but Holy will always be your little girl.
You tip the cabbie generously. He got you here in good time, and your disdain of Japs has faded as much as you think it ever will. It's hard to stay mad a man for so long, especially after he dies in an accident.
So Holy, Josuke, Jotaro . . . is there anyone you're missing? As you knock on the door to the Kujo house in suburban Mitakihara, you can't help but feel that you've forgotten something.
"Oh no!" You cry. "I forgot to bring some of that fudge the walls were made of!"
And then the door opens, and a midget vampire wearing a Stone Mask leaps for your throat!
[] Scream! "OH! MY! GOD!"
[] Burn Heroic Willpower! "Overdrive!"
[] Grapple it with Hermit Purple!
[] Step back into the Sunlight.
[2] You'd rather talk to Kyubey about this.
[23] Actually, you just remembered why you're here.
[1] Travel to Mitakihara to meet with Mami
You snap your fingers. Of course, you're wearing gloves so you don't actually snap them, but that's not important. "That's right! I can't believe I forgot."
"Oh, where does she-"
You talk right over the psychic voice. "I need to catch the next train to visit my daughter."
And then you turn on your heel and start off towards the ticket office. After you purchase your ticket you pull out your trusty Walkman and a pair of noise-cancelling earbuds, which are like headphones except that they go inside your ear instead of outside them. It's not actually your old Walkman, or a Walkman at all anymore. It looks like one, but you don't have to carry around a bag of tapes any more, which is pretty damn neat if you do say so yourself.
You pried it open and wired in the doohickies from one of those iPod things with a better battery, and now it just goes on and on without needing to be plugged in.
As your train pulls out, you catch a glimpse of something small, white, and fast-moving on the platform, but by the time you get your glasses back on to look the train's pulled away from the station.
Your music soothes you without putting you to sleep. No vocals, but modern rock is a gamble that you don't feel like betting on at the moment.
That . . . witch, Kyubey had called it.
People that don't reveal themselves really piss you off. Kyubey isn't human, if it wasn't lying about what he- you'll call it he- looks like. There are stranger things than Stands out there, but you'll go with the simple explanation for now. Assuming that Kyubey is a long range Stand with the power to be invisible to anyone over a certain age would make finding its master the first step to getting answers out of it.
Oh yes, you haven't forgotten him, you muse as you get off the train and hail a cab, it's just that family comes first. You're not that old yet, but you really do need to see Holy- she's the reason you're even in Japan in the first place. Josuke is . . . off doing something in Korea, you're not sure what exactly. Jotaro left to go help his daughter out of a jam a while ago- you forget exactly when.
You don't keep track of those two, really. They're grown men now, and can take care of themselves, but Holy will always be your little girl.
You tip the cabbie generously. He got you here in good time, and your disdain of Japs has faded as much as you think it ever will. It's hard to stay mad a man for so long, especially after he dies in an accident.
So Holy, Josuke, Jotaro . . . is there anyone you're missing? As you knock on the door to the Kujo house in suburban Mitakihara, you can't help but feel that you've forgotten something.
"Oh no!" You cry. "I forgot to bring some of that fudge the walls were made of!"
And then the door opens, and a midget vampire wearing a Stone Mask leaps for your throat!
[] Scream! "OH! MY! GOD!"
[] Burn Heroic Willpower! "Overdrive!"
[] Grapple it with Hermit Purple!
[] Step back into the Sunlight.
Last edited:
008
TPK
Hello, friend.
[24] Step back into the Sunlight.
[12] Scream! OH! MY! GOD!
[1] Burn Heroic Willpower! Overdrive!
Caught in an ambush, with the vampire so close there's no way for you to get your distance and fight it off with Hermit Purple! Screaming won't do anything but alert the neighbors and getting killed by a midget vampire is just too humiliating. Better for you to die and remain undiscovered than for your remaining family to find out from the evening news!
If you were twenty years younger, this would pose no problem at all. You could stop such a small and dirty vampire with one hand, but now? With your breath wheezing out in surprised terror and your hands shaking like leaves in a storm?
This isn't what you meant when you thought that you still yearned for adventure!
Oh, right. It's still daylight.
You take a step back off the stoop and bend over, letting the vampire fly over your head and into the evening sunlight. Its hands catch it, and the slight thing springs back at you, feet-first before your Stand lashes out and grabs it by the wrist.
There used to be a day when you could use Hermit Purple to conduct Hamon, Ripple energy, that would instantly slay vampires, but you're too old and your lungs too decrepit for that now. You used to be strong enough to use your Stand like a grappling hook gun, pulling yourself around cities and even wrapping it around yourself for use as armor.
Now it tugs, and anchored to the iron railing as it is, your Stand has plenty of leverage to spin the vampire head-over-heels and fling it back into the purifying light of the Sun!
. . . Where it doesn't burn to ashes.
"Father?"
Your daughter calls from the doorway behind you, and your heart soars. "Thank God I got here in time!" You wheeze, still short of breath from the shock of the evil vampire's attack. "This vampire must be wearing UV-Proof clothes- get cooking oil and a lighter while I hold it still!"
Your girl's gentle touch on your shoulder soothes your heart. "Father . . . That's Shizuka, remember?"
"What."
The vampire waves. "Hi dad."
Your heart rate plummets as relief overtakes you, then rockets right back up for an entirely different reason. "SHIZUKA TURNED INTO A VAMPIRE?! OH WHY, CRUEL WORLD? WHY DO THIS TO AN OLD MAN?"
"She's just playing a joke." Holy soothes. "See, if she were a vampire wouldn't her hands be burning up?"
That . . . makes sense.
"Heh." That's actually pretty funny. "Dressing up like a vampire to scare your old man? How'd you get across the Pacific anyway?"
Shizuka stands up as soon as you recall Hermit Purple, and brushes off her clothes. You adopted her when she was only a baby, lost and abandoned because her Stand, Atchung Baby, rendered her invisible whenever she got stressed or scared. She's a good kid.
. . . But you left her in New York.
"Well," She kicks the lawn. "You sure you wanna know?"
"Yes I'm sure."
"Really sure?"
"Really sure, yes."
Shizuka prefers to dress in flashy, fashionable clothes. Her most recent outfit is a green sailor suit-style school uniform with a tie that matches her orange goggles, decorated with pins and buttons scrounged out of your mansion's many rooms.
The goggles are actually on over the Stone Mask, and you should have recognized her earlier. Really, there's no excuse.
"I kinda sat next to you on the plane, invisibly."
You stare.
" . . . I knew somebody was drinking my cola."
Holy, on the other hand, has adopted the boring, staid clothing of a Japanese housewife. You raised her better, but what can you do? She's her own woman now, and you love her dearly. She pats your shoulder again, then goes back into the house. "I have dinner almost ready. Why don't you all come in, take off your shoes, and Shizuka? Put away the fake mask."
"That sounds lovely." You smile, and then give your favorite pain in the ass the stink-eye as she clomps up to you.
"It's not a fake, though. I took it from your office safe." Shizuka protests, and the world goes still.
You open your mouth and scream. "TAKE THAT THING OFF RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOOOOOOOOOOW!"
After ripping the ancient evil artifact off of your daughter's head and giving her the dressing down of the century (week, if you're honest), you put it on your bedside table in the guest room your adult daughter prepared for you and get ready for dinner.
Shizuka glares at you throughout, and you throw a pea into her mouth when Holy looks the other way, not even interrupting telling the story of what happened to you today while you do so.
She glares, but what the hell she's thirteen and you raised her. If she can't take it she shouldn't be giving it out.
Actually, you're pretty sure that she just doesn't like being wrong, which is perfectly understandable.
Wearing a Stone Mask.
Ugh.
That could have . . . You don't want to think about what could have happened if she'd bitten her lip when you tripped her, or hit the ground face first.
Totally over the line.
. . . Still funny, though.
Heh. Midget vampire.
After dinner you fall asleep before anyone else.
Change Characters?
[] Become Shizuka Joestar for the night
[] Stay Old Man Joseph for now
[12] Scream! OH! MY! GOD!
[1] Burn Heroic Willpower! Overdrive!
Caught in an ambush, with the vampire so close there's no way for you to get your distance and fight it off with Hermit Purple! Screaming won't do anything but alert the neighbors and getting killed by a midget vampire is just too humiliating. Better for you to die and remain undiscovered than for your remaining family to find out from the evening news!
If you were twenty years younger, this would pose no problem at all. You could stop such a small and dirty vampire with one hand, but now? With your breath wheezing out in surprised terror and your hands shaking like leaves in a storm?
This isn't what you meant when you thought that you still yearned for adventure!
Oh, right. It's still daylight.
You take a step back off the stoop and bend over, letting the vampire fly over your head and into the evening sunlight. Its hands catch it, and the slight thing springs back at you, feet-first before your Stand lashes out and grabs it by the wrist.
There used to be a day when you could use Hermit Purple to conduct Hamon, Ripple energy, that would instantly slay vampires, but you're too old and your lungs too decrepit for that now. You used to be strong enough to use your Stand like a grappling hook gun, pulling yourself around cities and even wrapping it around yourself for use as armor.
Now it tugs, and anchored to the iron railing as it is, your Stand has plenty of leverage to spin the vampire head-over-heels and fling it back into the purifying light of the Sun!
. . . Where it doesn't burn to ashes.
"Father?"
Your daughter calls from the doorway behind you, and your heart soars. "Thank God I got here in time!" You wheeze, still short of breath from the shock of the evil vampire's attack. "This vampire must be wearing UV-Proof clothes- get cooking oil and a lighter while I hold it still!"
Your girl's gentle touch on your shoulder soothes your heart. "Father . . . That's Shizuka, remember?"
"What."
The vampire waves. "Hi dad."
Your heart rate plummets as relief overtakes you, then rockets right back up for an entirely different reason. "SHIZUKA TURNED INTO A VAMPIRE?! OH WHY, CRUEL WORLD? WHY DO THIS TO AN OLD MAN?"
"She's just playing a joke." Holy soothes. "See, if she were a vampire wouldn't her hands be burning up?"
That . . . makes sense.
"Heh." That's actually pretty funny. "Dressing up like a vampire to scare your old man? How'd you get across the Pacific anyway?"
Shizuka stands up as soon as you recall Hermit Purple, and brushes off her clothes. You adopted her when she was only a baby, lost and abandoned because her Stand, Atchung Baby, rendered her invisible whenever she got stressed or scared. She's a good kid.
. . . But you left her in New York.
"Well," She kicks the lawn. "You sure you wanna know?"
"Yes I'm sure."
"Really sure?"
"Really sure, yes."
Shizuka prefers to dress in flashy, fashionable clothes. Her most recent outfit is a green sailor suit-style school uniform with a tie that matches her orange goggles, decorated with pins and buttons scrounged out of your mansion's many rooms.
The goggles are actually on over the Stone Mask, and you should have recognized her earlier. Really, there's no excuse.
"I kinda sat next to you on the plane, invisibly."
You stare.
" . . . I knew somebody was drinking my cola."
Holy, on the other hand, has adopted the boring, staid clothing of a Japanese housewife. You raised her better, but what can you do? She's her own woman now, and you love her dearly. She pats your shoulder again, then goes back into the house. "I have dinner almost ready. Why don't you all come in, take off your shoes, and Shizuka? Put away the fake mask."
"That sounds lovely." You smile, and then give your favorite pain in the ass the stink-eye as she clomps up to you.
"It's not a fake, though. I took it from your office safe." Shizuka protests, and the world goes still.
You open your mouth and scream. "TAKE THAT THING OFF RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOOOOOOOOOOW!"
After ripping the ancient evil artifact off of your daughter's head and giving her the dressing down of the century (week, if you're honest), you put it on your bedside table in the guest room your adult daughter prepared for you and get ready for dinner.
Shizuka glares at you throughout, and you throw a pea into her mouth when Holy looks the other way, not even interrupting telling the story of what happened to you today while you do so.
She glares, but what the hell she's thirteen and you raised her. If she can't take it she shouldn't be giving it out.
Actually, you're pretty sure that she just doesn't like being wrong, which is perfectly understandable.
Wearing a Stone Mask.
Ugh.
That could have . . . You don't want to think about what could have happened if she'd bitten her lip when you tripped her, or hit the ground face first.
Totally over the line.
. . . Still funny, though.
Heh. Midget vampire.
After dinner you fall asleep before anyone else.
Change Characters?
[] Become Shizuka Joestar for the night
[] Stay Old Man Joseph for now
009
TPK
Hello, friend.
[9] Stay Old Man Joseph for now
[23] Become Shizuka Joestar for the night.
Of course you don't actually go to sleep when aunt Holy says to.
You're only like, three years younger than uncle Jotaro was when he roamed the world fighting enemy Stand users with a band of battle-forged brothers, culminating in a running battle that utterly trashed parts of Cairo, and dad thinks you're going to go to sleep?
Yeah, right.
So maybe stealing that mask, sneaking onto the plane with him, and following him to Japan to visit your auntie was a bad idea (technically your sister, but Holy's got actual grey hair, and there's no way your anybody's sister when they're that old).
Putting the mask on was definitely one, but in all fairness you scared the shit out of the old man, so you think it was worth it.
As soon as the hall light goes out you throw off the sheet and get dressed in what you think of as your work clothes. The green sailor uniform is perfect for Japan, because you know that everybody wears cool clothes here, and a quick check of your bling ensures that it's all either appropriately symbolic or vaguely-shaped enough that you can claim symbolism retroactively. That's another thing you learned from dad. Pops. The old man. JoJo.
. . . You and aunt Holy are the only people on your family tree whose names don't abbreviate to JoJo, which pisses you off. You got your Stand when you were a baby, but a cool nickname? Noooooooo.
Achtung Baby's manifestation is limited to changing how your left pupil is shaped.
That's your Joestar family birthmark, the star-shaped pupil of your left eye, and nobody's going to tell you different.
The guest room you were given to sleep in is up on the second floor of the Kujo house, but you're next door to pops' room so you can't go out the hallway. The man's going senile, but he's still crazy sharp.
Instead you shove a pillow up to the crack under the door, open the window, and drop fifteen feet to the soft garden soil below. You land and transition into a perfect roll instead of absorbing the impact, coming up running and missing a rose bush by inches before sprinting full-tilt into the Mitakihara night.
The date is March 16th for a few more hours yet, and you can't afford to let any of them go to waste. You'll find adventure in this strange, foreign city!
When midnight rolls around, and it officially becomes March 17th, you realize both that you have failed to find adventure and that you are horribly lost.
Oh goddammit.
You're in some sort of . . . You think . . .
. . . There are a lot of really tall buildings with lights in them, which doesn't mean a lot. Also you can't read kanji, which is a bit of a problem. Your spoken Japanese is really good though, because last year Joseph kept talking at you in different languages until you mastered them in retaliation for that time when you stole his credit card and followed uncle Jotaro around for a week.
You've got a phone, one of the new Speedwagon Foundation phones that runs off of satellites, can recharge with with solar power, and doesn't even break when you run it over. You could call Joseph. He'll bitch and moan about what a little brat you are, but you did get lost.
And Japan is supposed to be the land of your birth, jeeze.
Or.
Or you could follow that man stumbling into the dark alley. If you go invisible with Achtung Baby you'll be perfectly safe, and as you watch a tattoo fades into existence on his neck, a little ornate, square thing.
And now there's a girl about your age in the entrance to the alley, with long black hair and a bitching purple and white dress. You didn't exactly see her show up, which means something's afoot with her.
[] Call your old man and get picked up like a chump.
[] Keep wandering. You'll find your way back eventually, right?
[] Use your Stand to turn invisible and go into the alley.
[] Greet the mysterious girl. Demand to know what's going on here.
[23] Become Shizuka Joestar for the night.
Of course you don't actually go to sleep when aunt Holy says to.
You're only like, three years younger than uncle Jotaro was when he roamed the world fighting enemy Stand users with a band of battle-forged brothers, culminating in a running battle that utterly trashed parts of Cairo, and dad thinks you're going to go to sleep?
Yeah, right.
So maybe stealing that mask, sneaking onto the plane with him, and following him to Japan to visit your auntie was a bad idea (technically your sister, but Holy's got actual grey hair, and there's no way your anybody's sister when they're that old).
Putting the mask on was definitely one, but in all fairness you scared the shit out of the old man, so you think it was worth it.
As soon as the hall light goes out you throw off the sheet and get dressed in what you think of as your work clothes. The green sailor uniform is perfect for Japan, because you know that everybody wears cool clothes here, and a quick check of your bling ensures that it's all either appropriately symbolic or vaguely-shaped enough that you can claim symbolism retroactively. That's another thing you learned from dad. Pops. The old man. JoJo.
. . . You and aunt Holy are the only people on your family tree whose names don't abbreviate to JoJo, which pisses you off. You got your Stand when you were a baby, but a cool nickname? Noooooooo.
Achtung Baby's manifestation is limited to changing how your left pupil is shaped.
That's your Joestar family birthmark, the star-shaped pupil of your left eye, and nobody's going to tell you different.
The guest room you were given to sleep in is up on the second floor of the Kujo house, but you're next door to pops' room so you can't go out the hallway. The man's going senile, but he's still crazy sharp.
Instead you shove a pillow up to the crack under the door, open the window, and drop fifteen feet to the soft garden soil below. You land and transition into a perfect roll instead of absorbing the impact, coming up running and missing a rose bush by inches before sprinting full-tilt into the Mitakihara night.
The date is March 16th for a few more hours yet, and you can't afford to let any of them go to waste. You'll find adventure in this strange, foreign city!
When midnight rolls around, and it officially becomes March 17th, you realize both that you have failed to find adventure and that you are horribly lost.
Oh goddammit.
You're in some sort of . . . You think . . .
. . . There are a lot of really tall buildings with lights in them, which doesn't mean a lot. Also you can't read kanji, which is a bit of a problem. Your spoken Japanese is really good though, because last year Joseph kept talking at you in different languages until you mastered them in retaliation for that time when you stole his credit card and followed uncle Jotaro around for a week.
You've got a phone, one of the new Speedwagon Foundation phones that runs off of satellites, can recharge with with solar power, and doesn't even break when you run it over. You could call Joseph. He'll bitch and moan about what a little brat you are, but you did get lost.
And Japan is supposed to be the land of your birth, jeeze.
Or.
Or you could follow that man stumbling into the dark alley. If you go invisible with Achtung Baby you'll be perfectly safe, and as you watch a tattoo fades into existence on his neck, a little ornate, square thing.
And now there's a girl about your age in the entrance to the alley, with long black hair and a bitching purple and white dress. You didn't exactly see her show up, which means something's afoot with her.
[] Call your old man and get picked up like a chump.
[] Keep wandering. You'll find your way back eventually, right?
[] Use your Stand to turn invisible and go into the alley.
[] Greet the mysterious girl. Demand to know what's going on here.