I want to point out Glory Girl is a second generation parahuman and thus it was less traumatic compared to a first gen like Bakuda who's superiority complex got hit bad.
Rolling Stone (JoJo/Worm [AU])
- Thread starter TheStranger
- Start date
- Crossover
Does it have the same drawback/feature as D4C? That is to say, if the subject summoned by the Stand makes physical contact with their counterpart from the Stand User's dimension, will they both explode? This includes chucking a piece of the counterpart's corpse at the summoned version.
- Location
- Alabama
[The Doors]-(item/ability type) able to create a door on any surface to allow the user to pass though barriers.
After some character growth power up
[ 3 Doors Down]-(punch ghost) can "teleport" by connecting two or more doors that are not connected to travel distances.
After some character growth power up
[ 3 Doors Down]-(punch ghost) can "teleport" by connecting two or more doors that are not connected to travel distances.
- Location
- The Hub
Can [3 Doors Down] send its Punches through the Doors?
Hehehe. That reminds me of the line "Don't let the door hit you on the way out." In this case, it would be a warning as the door will literally punch them if they're not careful.
- Location
- Alabama
It can now. You open your pantry door to get a snack and then surprise bitch slap.
- Pronouns
- He
So it's a gaslight-type stand...
- Location
- United States
Here's a Stand I've been working on for a while (bear in mind I'm on a Kamen Rider kick, and it's a work in progress. Feel free to change anything.)
Stand Name: Over Quartzer
Type: Punching Ghost/Armor
Abilities: can swap between them, but each has a 5 minute cool down.
[Life Is SHOW TIME]: imbues attacks with elemental effects.
[W-B-X]: splits into two entities, Right (analyzes opponents) and Left (defends User).
[Be The One]:
[Round Zero-BLADE BRAVE]:
[Switch On!]:
[Climax Jump!]:
[NEXT LEVEL]: Grants the User near-light-speed movement for 10 real-world seconds while in armor mode.
[Justi-PHI's]:
this is all I got so far. The naming scheme is Heisei-era Kamen Rider opening theme songs.
Stand Name: Over Quartzer
Type: Punching Ghost/Armor
Abilities: can swap between them, but each has a 5 minute cool down.
[Life Is SHOW TIME]: imbues attacks with elemental effects.
[W-B-X]: splits into two entities, Right (analyzes opponents) and Left (defends User).
[Be The One]:
[Round Zero-BLADE BRAVE]:
[Switch On!]:
[Climax Jump!]:
[NEXT LEVEL]: Grants the User near-light-speed movement for 10 real-world seconds while in armor mode.
[Justi-PHI's]:
this is all I got so far. The naming scheme is Heisei-era Kamen Rider opening theme songs.
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Mmm never thought it, that way the only pieces of fiction i have theorized to use this was for a fic i was planing in which the main character used the Stand, to distract people so he could be leaved alone.
And in the other one to give some advantage to fight the main bad guy of another fic i was playing. Idk if i should give a drawback. but if you want to give thuis stand a drawback sure.
---------------------------
An idea for a Oc stand, i normally call it another thing but because i havent found a song that hits, this could work.
[FRIENDS]: Summon 6 ghost like stands, they look like 6 clouds following the user, each one of this stands have the ability to transform into a living person the user wants. This Stand can be used at max 6 times a day, 1 for each ghost. When one part is transformed, the stand will let you ask him, and answer personal questions about the poerson they are imitating.
They also will built a rapport with the person. This can be used to create a rapport with a person before meeting them, so they could see you in a positive way. Normally this happens by interacting with the copy, asyou were interacting with the normal person, if things go bad, with the copy it will not ruin the rapport build up with the copies.
This stand will help you build a rapport strong enough that this person could actually considered you a Friend of them, The only thing is that they will only considere you a FRIEND, and that is. Is a good Stand for infiltration, or just make friends, in a bit creepy way.
Each copy wil imitate al the physical propierties, and abilities (no stands), that the one they are imitating have.
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(this one was an extension of another ability i wanted to give them as a requiem)
[FRIENDS] Requiem:The stand User will be able the do the above thing, but with Fictional characters, Of course all the physical abilities included, the only drawback is that they will be bega to feel lostin the character and friendship they are having with that ficitional character. So attacking them couldbe easier, because the user will be distracted.
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People say 2nd gens have easier triggers, but do they really?
I was reading a fic recently, and it came up that once buds often go to close family members, this usually means the kids of capes are 2nd gens. That is, kids of heavily traumatized individuals who most of the time learn to work around their issues rather than dealing with them, which often leads to less than perfect family lives. What this means is, do 2nd gens really have easier triggers, or do they just have a lot more stress and grow up in situations that would lead to trigger events, and the parents don't want to acknowledge/publicize this fact?
For Glory Girl, it was something that had been building up for most of her life, her desire for acknowledgement and investment with from her parents. I mean, she literally has a "please pay attention to me, please" aura on 24/7. Like, when your dad has depression, your mom is paranoid and a lawyer, and both are also superheroes, you're gonna feel isolated, and when you look over and realise they aren't even paying close attention to you when you're trying your hardest at a sport and genuinely skilled?
For more examples, Theo Anders? Enough said there. Amy? Her sister, literally the one person she knew loved her and cared about her, was hurt and (maybe, I can't remember for sure) dying in front of her. Sure, there are some easier triggers, like the boy who budded off of Taylor to get bird control, but even he was an orphan (iirc) living in a post-Leviathan, and later post-S9 Brockton Bay.
Tl;dr
Do 2nd gens really have easier triggers, or is it the fact they are often the kids of 1st gens, aka heavily traumatized and broken people who likely struggle to be good parents, plus being chosen by buds giving them the chance to trigger in the first place, that results in what appears on the surface "easier" triggers?
HELL YEAH! A true Jojo cross! Not just one character getting a stand, but an actual fused world! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
SkyRig
Wake the f#ck up, samurai.
- Location
- Someplace in California
- Pronouns
- He
At this, I feel the need to intervene. Here's the thing about Stands. There is no such thing as a "weak" Stand. There are only weak Stand-users, low development potential be damned. I could name more than a few "weak" stands that nearly did the heroes in on more than one occasion. They don't all have to be fucking Star Platinum or Crazy Diamond levels of power.
Not gonna lie, I kinda prefer this cover better IMO. Still good choice of music.
Btw, the next arc will be named after a Thousand Foot Krutch song and will take place both when Taylor obtained her Stand and after the Paint It Black Arc.
Brightstone
Feral Goblin
... So, Amy does brains in this one? Otherwise, she would not, in fact, regrow a missing chunk of brain.
Imp stole an L from Medhall.
At.
Rappelled.
Add x2.
I think appendages would work better here.
Has.
Vigilant.
Hold the fuck up! What happened to Amy's no brains rule!
Medically for both.
Left.
Goddammit, Imp...
Assets.
Add.
Unsaid: "Everyone's a cape, and the work we do might not be technically legal."
Expecting.
Add.
Significant.
Add.
You'll.
I see where this was going.
The victim: Taylor Hebert.
The weapon: A Stand Arrow.
Remove for both.
Needed.
About.
Cause it would cause chaos if they actually fought in their superpowered alter egos, so all they can do is debate.
To.
I thought Oni Lee's protégé was called Yurei.
Add.
Add.
Imp! Put the W back in wrap!
Add.
It's.
Blacks.
It's.
Can.
Add.
Emily.
Your next line is, "A Stand User!"
Translator's Note: Kurai means "Eat this!"
Very nice. I've been something of a Jojo fan for years now, so this story has my attention.
Emily Piggot, when you learn that Stands are involved, you will say, "Oh my God."
Also, it seems that this Dario actually cared about his family, unlike his canon counterpart, who was just as bad as Dio himself.
TheStranger
Of course you realize, this means war.
- Location
- Take a Guess!
- Pronouns
- Who
First of all, thank you so much for pointing all these out. Actually, looking at this now, we made fewer mistakes than we were expecting. Still a lot, but not as much as we thought.
Also, we were wondering how long it would take for people to notice Amy healing somebody's brain. Seriously, given her character and problems, that should be the mother of all warning flags.
- Location
- The Hub
A fairly generic Stand Idea I've had is [Masochism Tango].
For starters it flips the standard Injury Feedback gimmick of Stands on it's head (Injuries dealt to the user are transferred to the Stand, not the other way around.), it's second ability is a "Damage Battery" that fills up as it takes hits for its user with it being able to tap this battery to boost its ability to inflict damage to absurd levels (stuff like splashing someone by flicking them)
For starters it flips the standard Injury Feedback gimmick of Stands on it's head (Injuries dealt to the user are transferred to the Stand, not the other way around.), it's second ability is a "Damage Battery" that fills up as it takes hits for its user with it being able to tap this battery to boost its ability to inflict damage to absurd levels (stuff like splashing someone by flicking them)
- Location
- Colorado
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Frick DOPPIO is on the Undersiders... This is interesting but uh... I'm hoping his headmate doesn't go too far here because uhhhh... The kind of shit he can get up to wit-
{WHUM}
-so yeah sorry for the wall of text but just hoping Taylor and this seemingly more Antihero than Villain Undersiders don't have to deal with that stuff getting too messy... Watched!
... Hm... I swear I spent more time on this post...
{WHUM}
-so yeah sorry for the wall of text but just hoping Taylor and this seemingly more Antihero than Villain Undersiders don't have to deal with that stuff getting too messy... Watched!
... Hm... I swear I spent more time on this post...
- Pronouns
- He
Diavolo doesn't exist here, so no split personality for Doppio. It's just our little baby who can go from "now everyone, I'm sure we can talk" to the literal embodiment of the navy seals.
In other words, he might end up donuting Coil.
And depending on how much he can use King Crimson's power, he could be the natural counter to Snakey's power. Can't be seen by non-Stand Users + ability to manipulate 10 seconds of time = difficult to model.
TheStranger
Of course you realize, this means war.
- Location
- Take a Guess!
- Pronouns
- Who
Fixed! And convinced Imp to put everything back.
Actually, Doppio's powers are parahuman rooted rather than a Stand. As a reminder, Epitaph was a power associated with King Crimson. That said, his powers would be capable of countering Coil's.
Paint It Black 1.i (Interlude)
TheStranger
Of course you realize, this means war.
- Location
- Take a Guess!
- Pronouns
- Who
Atop a hill, overlooking Brockton Bay, situated far away from the modernized towers of tombstones, there laid an old mansion. Once owned by a powerful cape, a new owner took up residence and repurposed it for his own needs. It was carefully restored to its former glory; broken wood replaced and refurbished, artwork and recreations of famous pieces decorated the halls, shattered walls repaired and covered in fresh coats of plaster, and broken windows repaired with improved, sturdier glass panels.
The owner casually sat in an office chair, looking out his window and up at the moon. It was full, dangling in the night sky and so far out of reach. Several decades ago, humanity once managed to reach it and planted a symbol of their presence. Even now, the old shuttle and flag still sat there as a declaration to the rest of space. One day, humanity would reach for the stars.
Then Ziz came along and fucked up all their plans. 2002 was perhaps the worst year of NASA's life, given how the Endbringer brought all attempts to reach the final frontier to a screeching halt, however minor said attempts were. Probes, unmanned space stations, repair crews at satellite stations; they were all dealt with by the Simurgh.
The U.S. was not the only country affected by Ziz's presence, of course. The Endbringer's actions affected everyone involved in the space race, and as a result, space exploration grinded to a halt.
The owner wondered why Ziz was so hellbent on preventing humanity from leaving Earth. Did it want to facilitate the complete extinction of the human race? Did it want to pose as some sort of challenge to overcome? Or was its interference yet another one of the so-called memetic "plots" it cooked up?
He huffed, finding such meaningless things none of his concern. The affairs of the Endbringers were not his, not even when they came to his front doorstep as they had with others.
The telephone ranged, chiming and shrieking until he finally lifted the receiver from its cradle. "I assume you're calling in regards to signore Cutugno, miss Tattletale. Tell me, was he every bit the incessant fool I thought he was?"
"All that and more, boss," Lisa cheerfully replied, making the man smile. "Unfortunately, he didn't know jack about whomever it was that came to him about Sting. Any contact they had was via dummy e-mails, burner phones and telegrams."
"What of the supply of the drug? I trust that was handled."
"All of it was gathered up and burned. It made for one hell of a bonfire. Thanks again for pointing Spitfire to us, by the way. She's been a real treat."
The man chuckled as he reclined into his chair. "You only say that because you already had your eye on her. I simply offered my contribution, a nudge in the right direction." It was pure coincidence that Lisa set her eyes on the same cape he had, though whereas he saw a potential officer, Lisa found a like-minded individual. Having her with the Undersiders was beneficial in a way, as it allowed him to see what she was capable of. "On the subject of new recruits, Taylor Hebert… I did expect to hear you recruited a Stand-user."
"She's a bit of a recent addition," Lisa answered, albeit somewhat nervously. "We had her take a backseat role up until now. You did want one of us to be in the spotlight so the PRT could get on Cutugno's ass."
"I did, and you performed your actions with flying colors. A job well done, Miss Tattletale. As promised, I will forward ten million to your bank account. I trust you will distribute your funds equally among your group?"
"I'm not a cheap-skating hoarder," the thinker huffed. "Just let us know if you have any gigs you want done, yeah? So long as they don't put us on the PRT's shit list, of course. We've gotten this far being vigilantes, so the last thing we want is to get labeled as villains and get hounded by every fucking hero in the city, much less the Speedwagon Foundation."
A smile creeped up his face. It never ceased to amaze him how whenever the PRT fought against the gangs they struggled, but when new players entered the board, insignificant villains and independents with no backing or connections, they could come down on them like a house of bricks. Even then they floundered, if Uber and Leet were of any indication.
The Foundation was another story altogether. When a potentially dangerous Stand-user showed up on their radar, there was no warning. They would hunt them down with extreme prejudice in order to determine if they were a threat. If they were, it was either a custom-tailored jail cell in the Dog House or a position within their ranks. At the very least, a contract and partnership was offered if they proved willing enough. Of the few Stand-users whose identities were known to the owner, he could name a handful who could kill him with frightening ease.
A shudder ran down his spine, praying he would never have the "pleasure" of meeting Purple Haze.
"Rest assured, any job I feel is suited to your talents, you will be the first to know. Now, if you excuse me, I have a fool that needs to be dealt with."
"Right, no prob. See you later~"
The call disconnected. The owner set the transceiver back in its cradle and fixed his gaze to the enraged face in front of him. Lucio Cutugno was on his knees, held down by numerous hands. Surrounding him were men and women in black business suits, black sacks of cloth hiding their faces and hands covered with gloves. One of the men standing Lucio held a gun up against his head. The only reason the Italian mobster was not spouting profanities and curses was because of the gag in his mouth. Any sense of dignity he had was gone during his brief stay with the Undersiders, beaten black and blue to hell and back. His suit was in tatters, his right cheek swollen and purple, and his left eyebrow was swollen to the point it hid his eye from view.
"I must admit, Mister Cutugno, you performed your part in this spectacular play admirably. My only criticism was your total lack of caution with the drug I gave to you." The owner stood up from his chair, maneuvering around his desk until he was directly in front of the mobster. "It would have been a matter of time before the PRT or the gangs discovered its existence, but had you been more careful in its distribution, it would have taken them at least a month or two." The man sighed and shook his head. "It is not a total loss, I suppose. You did gather some useful data for me about its potential. To be honest, I did not have much hope for it, besides its ability to cripple parahumans."
The owner tilted his head. "Now, the question remains… What shall I do with you? Perhaps you have some suggestions for me, Mister Cutugno?" He motioned for one of the people holding him down to remove the gag.
No sooner was the gag removed had Lucio descended into frothing spouts of promises of pain in his native tongue. The owner paid little attention to his words, finding them empty and full of hot air. His ranting grew so bad one of the female officers grabbed him by the roots of his hair, yanked his head back hard enough to make him cry out in pain, then harshly slam his face down to the ground.
"That was not necessary, but thank you, Cinque," the owner said. The agent beamed happily while keeping a firm grip on Lucio. "As things stand for you now, Mister Cutugno, you have three choices. The first and second are rather obvious for you. You can either take your chances trying to eek a living here in Brockton Bay while the PRT hunts you down, or face the wrath of the Caponi Famiglia for your failures." Lucio growled in anger at the mention of the family, struggling against his bonds so as to punch the man in the face. "The last option is one you may disagree with."
"Fuck you, stronzo! I ain't working for you!" Lucio spat. "I'd sooner give my soul to the diavolo than betray the famiglia!"
The owner stared at Lucio in surprise for a moment. He half-expected the man to claim the Caponi's would call for his death, yet by the look of it, he was resigned and fully willing to own up for his failure to bring them glory and results for his attempts to help them rise back into power. He knew he was going to die, but he would do so with what little honor he had.
A moment passed before the owner felt his smile morph into a grin. "Outstanding… Such a fine will you possess. Let us see if it will carry you toward the future that awaits us." He motioned for the woman in the qipao to come forward. She did so while presenting a gold-tipped arrow for him, which he accepted. "Allow me to amend my previous statement, signore. Before you lie two paths. The path to glory…"
The agents pulled Lucio back up, though before Lucio could spit out more curses at the owner, he gasped in pain as the arrow impaled itself on his stomach.
"…and the path to death. If your will is strong, then glory shall await you. You will be reborn with power beyond imagination. If your will falters, then you die. It's rather simple compared to when I gave you the formula for Sting, is it not?"
He ignored Lucio's howls of pain and suffering, walking past him. The agents holding Lucio down vanished, turning to smoke. The woman in the qipao followed after him. As the owner prepared to leave, he flashed a toothy smile at the writhing Italian.
"If you still draw breath when next we meet, I shall welcome you. However, know this…"
His eyes turned crimson, white fangs laid bare for all to see.
"No matter what power you are blessed with, you shall never reach my heights."
The woman shut the door behind them, even as Lucio's screams turned into a crescendo of agony.
"Kurai!"
"Stop," a stern voice said. "Rewind by 2.5 seconds. Replay and go frame by frame."
The footage rewound and played in slow motion. The Stand moved so slowly, but each strike was clearly visible and delivered its blows with frightening accuracy and a surprising amount of weight.
The balding man who spoke earlier studied the Stand intently. He lost count of how many times he watched the footage, replaying in various speeds so as to catch little details anyone else might have missed. Every time he watched the battle unfold, he could not help but wonder how long the Stand-user had been in action.
"So, what's the verdict?"
The man grunted. "Amateurish, but at the very least they have a good understanding of their Stand's capabilities," he said. "It requires shadows to assume a corporeal form. In terms of function, it's similar to an autonomous Stand and the damage doesn't return to the user, though this is possibly because the Stand itself is a living shadow."
"So if it's exposed to light, it should be vulnerable?" the man next to him asked.
"Possibly. We'll need more information. Honestly, I'm surprised the information is so detailed. Remind me again, who gave us this?"
"Armsmaster of the Brockton Bay Protectorate, current acting leader of the Wards. He and Dragon helped compile all the data they have on 'Dark'."
He rolled his eyes. "Please tell me that is not what they're calling her."
"It's a temporary designation and is subject to change." The man looked back at the footage, specifically at the moment when the Stand sent Cold World flying. "Cold World was by no means a slouch. We had trouble with him before. How is it that a rookie was able to defeat him all by herself?"
The balding man grunted. "That's the thing when it comes to battles like this, greenhorn." He dug into his pocket, taking out a metal container and opening it. Inside were several thick cigars. He took one of them and returned the container to his pocket before lighting the cigar with a match. "Even a Stand that should be weak can overpower a superior foe. When it comes down to it, you need only three things. Luck, experience, and knowledge. Nine times out of time, it's someone who understands how their Stand works and uses their powers to the fullest that wins. It's a lot like how them fights in that manga with pirates go. Er, what was it called again?"
For some reason, his companion looked surprised. "You…read manga, sir?"
"Got a problem with that?"
"N-no, I just wasn't expecting it. You're always so serious, so I thought…"
"Even an old man like me needs a hobby and all," the balding man huffed. He exhaled a large plume of smoke before glancing at the newbie next to him. He had been with the Speedwagon Foundation for two months, but he quickly proved his chops during the incident in Atlanta. "Anyways, I want you to memorize all this."
The newbie blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you've been picked to head off to Brockton Bay. See what this newbie's all about."
His eyes widened and stared at the balding man in shock. "A-are you sure, sir? I mean, I'm still…"
"Orders from the top, kid. Both the honcho and the President nominated you. 'course, you won't be going it alone. A senior member will be accompanying you. You know Avdol, right?"
"He was my proctor, yes."
The balding man smiled wryly. "Great, then that simplifies things." He patted the newbie on the shoulder and made his way out the room. "Better get started, kid. There might be a pop quiz!" He exited the room before the kid could respond. As the door slid shut behind him, the man wondered why the boss and the President wanted him to join the investigation. Was it to be his first field mission and they wanted to test the waters? Or was it a test of his loyalty?
Either way, he was sure nothing bad would happen. As bad as the city's reputation was, parahumans had a natural disadvantage to Stand-users given how different their powers were. It was hard to battle something you couldn't see, and depending on the Stand and its user, the fight was usually over before it began. That did not mean Stand-users were invincible, of course. At the end of the day, they were still human. All it took was being run over by a car or a well-placed bullet.
"Now that I think about it…" the man looked up in thought. "Wasn't Brockton Bay where he was posted?"
He idly wondered if there might be a connection between the new Stand-user and him, but dismissed the thought. It was a possibility, but unlikely. The balding man rounded the corner and paused when he saw a man wearing a black vest and white-button up shirt with a red tie and black gloves leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest.
"Back from your mission already, Caprio?" the balding man asked in surprise. "I thought you'd still be stuck in Egypt."
The silver-haired man scoffed. "It was hardly any trouble. The only problem we had was finding where the mask was. All the vampires are dead and the mask is destroyed. Unfortunately, word is already out on the net. Several media outlets are saying the serial murders were caused by a blood-sucking monsters."
The balding man shrugged. "Nothing you can do about that. We only learned about that when it was too late. At best, all we could do was damage control."
"Is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"A new Stand-user showed up in Brockton Bay and took down Cold World. Is it true?"
He raised an eyebrow. Why would Caprio be asking him about that? Did this case interest him? No, couldn't be. He knew the bastard since he first joined, and he was very picky about his assignments. "Yeah. Seems like their Stand is based on shadows. Why are you… H-hey, where are you going?!"
"To talk to the Director," Caprio answered as he walked away. "I want to meet this person."
"H-hang on a second here, friend. The mission's already been decided. Avdol and Fugo are going to Brockton Bay and help the Protectorate there investigate the Stand-user and that weird-ass drug. You can't just force your way on the team!"
The silver-haired man looked over his shoulder, amber eyes narrowed into a heated glare. The balding man returned it with defiance. The two stared each other down, neither refusing to back down.
"Don't tell me… Caprio, is this because of Saraceno?"
A sense of menace (ゴゴゴゴ) filled the air. In a burst of impulsion, Caprio's Stand appeared behind him in a furious flare. A humanoid figure, lean and athletic and little more than a black void filled with stars. Multi-colored rings encircled its forearms, wrists, calves, and ankles. The only physical feature it had was the blue-and-silver mask over the top half of its face, resembling a wavy flame with narrow orange eyes.
The air shimmered, warping almost as if in response to the Stand's emergence. Caprio's eyes became as cold as the winter tundras. As quickly as the Stand appeared, it receded back into Caprio and he walked away.
Senator Phillips looked at the foot-shaped dents in the floor and the spiderweb-cracks surrounding the dents, then at Caprio's retreating back.
He sighed. "This is going to be a problem, isn't it?"
SkyRig: This interlude was written by yours truly. Which honestly should have been written sooner, but what can you do?
TheStranger: Let's just chalk it up to technical difficulties and leave it at that. Anyways, the Stand Gravity was made by Daemon of Wrath/Evolto, though it will be a while before you get to see Caprio and his Stand in action. And before you ask, the "Fugo" mentioned here is Pannacotta Fugo from Part 5. No guesses as to who Avdol is either.
SkyRig: Senator Phillips is also based off the same character who got killed off near the end of Part 3. If it wasn't clear, we are including JoJo characters from various parts, which also the whole alternate universe stuff from Parts 7 and 8. As for who the "JoJo" of Rolling Stone is…
TheStranger: Sky…
SkyRig: Okay, okay, I won't spoil it.
TheStranger: Regarding progress, 2.1 is already finished and 2.2 is underway. As I've stated numerous times up to this point, we will be completing each arc then release each chapter week by week. Which won't be for a while, though, as my focus lies in another of my fanfics.
SkyRig: That's it for now folks! Before we end things off, take a guess as to who the Stand in the first half of the interlude is!
The owner casually sat in an office chair, looking out his window and up at the moon. It was full, dangling in the night sky and so far out of reach. Several decades ago, humanity once managed to reach it and planted a symbol of their presence. Even now, the old shuttle and flag still sat there as a declaration to the rest of space. One day, humanity would reach for the stars.
Then Ziz came along and fucked up all their plans. 2002 was perhaps the worst year of NASA's life, given how the Endbringer brought all attempts to reach the final frontier to a screeching halt, however minor said attempts were. Probes, unmanned space stations, repair crews at satellite stations; they were all dealt with by the Simurgh.
The U.S. was not the only country affected by Ziz's presence, of course. The Endbringer's actions affected everyone involved in the space race, and as a result, space exploration grinded to a halt.
The owner wondered why Ziz was so hellbent on preventing humanity from leaving Earth. Did it want to facilitate the complete extinction of the human race? Did it want to pose as some sort of challenge to overcome? Or was its interference yet another one of the so-called memetic "plots" it cooked up?
He huffed, finding such meaningless things none of his concern. The affairs of the Endbringers were not his, not even when they came to his front doorstep as they had with others.
The telephone ranged, chiming and shrieking until he finally lifted the receiver from its cradle. "I assume you're calling in regards to signore Cutugno, miss Tattletale. Tell me, was he every bit the incessant fool I thought he was?"
"All that and more, boss," Lisa cheerfully replied, making the man smile. "Unfortunately, he didn't know jack about whomever it was that came to him about Sting. Any contact they had was via dummy e-mails, burner phones and telegrams."
"What of the supply of the drug? I trust that was handled."
"All of it was gathered up and burned. It made for one hell of a bonfire. Thanks again for pointing Spitfire to us, by the way. She's been a real treat."
The man chuckled as he reclined into his chair. "You only say that because you already had your eye on her. I simply offered my contribution, a nudge in the right direction." It was pure coincidence that Lisa set her eyes on the same cape he had, though whereas he saw a potential officer, Lisa found a like-minded individual. Having her with the Undersiders was beneficial in a way, as it allowed him to see what she was capable of. "On the subject of new recruits, Taylor Hebert… I did expect to hear you recruited a Stand-user."
"She's a bit of a recent addition," Lisa answered, albeit somewhat nervously. "We had her take a backseat role up until now. You did want one of us to be in the spotlight so the PRT could get on Cutugno's ass."
"I did, and you performed your actions with flying colors. A job well done, Miss Tattletale. As promised, I will forward ten million to your bank account. I trust you will distribute your funds equally among your group?"
"I'm not a cheap-skating hoarder," the thinker huffed. "Just let us know if you have any gigs you want done, yeah? So long as they don't put us on the PRT's shit list, of course. We've gotten this far being vigilantes, so the last thing we want is to get labeled as villains and get hounded by every fucking hero in the city, much less the Speedwagon Foundation."
A smile creeped up his face. It never ceased to amaze him how whenever the PRT fought against the gangs they struggled, but when new players entered the board, insignificant villains and independents with no backing or connections, they could come down on them like a house of bricks. Even then they floundered, if Uber and Leet were of any indication.
The Foundation was another story altogether. When a potentially dangerous Stand-user showed up on their radar, there was no warning. They would hunt them down with extreme prejudice in order to determine if they were a threat. If they were, it was either a custom-tailored jail cell in the Dog House or a position within their ranks. At the very least, a contract and partnership was offered if they proved willing enough. Of the few Stand-users whose identities were known to the owner, he could name a handful who could kill him with frightening ease.
A shudder ran down his spine, praying he would never have the "pleasure" of meeting Purple Haze.
"Rest assured, any job I feel is suited to your talents, you will be the first to know. Now, if you excuse me, I have a fool that needs to be dealt with."
"Right, no prob. See you later~"
The call disconnected. The owner set the transceiver back in its cradle and fixed his gaze to the enraged face in front of him. Lucio Cutugno was on his knees, held down by numerous hands. Surrounding him were men and women in black business suits, black sacks of cloth hiding their faces and hands covered with gloves. One of the men standing Lucio held a gun up against his head. The only reason the Italian mobster was not spouting profanities and curses was because of the gag in his mouth. Any sense of dignity he had was gone during his brief stay with the Undersiders, beaten black and blue to hell and back. His suit was in tatters, his right cheek swollen and purple, and his left eyebrow was swollen to the point it hid his eye from view.
"I must admit, Mister Cutugno, you performed your part in this spectacular play admirably. My only criticism was your total lack of caution with the drug I gave to you." The owner stood up from his chair, maneuvering around his desk until he was directly in front of the mobster. "It would have been a matter of time before the PRT or the gangs discovered its existence, but had you been more careful in its distribution, it would have taken them at least a month or two." The man sighed and shook his head. "It is not a total loss, I suppose. You did gather some useful data for me about its potential. To be honest, I did not have much hope for it, besides its ability to cripple parahumans."
The owner tilted his head. "Now, the question remains… What shall I do with you? Perhaps you have some suggestions for me, Mister Cutugno?" He motioned for one of the people holding him down to remove the gag.
No sooner was the gag removed had Lucio descended into frothing spouts of promises of pain in his native tongue. The owner paid little attention to his words, finding them empty and full of hot air. His ranting grew so bad one of the female officers grabbed him by the roots of his hair, yanked his head back hard enough to make him cry out in pain, then harshly slam his face down to the ground.
"That was not necessary, but thank you, Cinque," the owner said. The agent beamed happily while keeping a firm grip on Lucio. "As things stand for you now, Mister Cutugno, you have three choices. The first and second are rather obvious for you. You can either take your chances trying to eek a living here in Brockton Bay while the PRT hunts you down, or face the wrath of the Caponi Famiglia for your failures." Lucio growled in anger at the mention of the family, struggling against his bonds so as to punch the man in the face. "The last option is one you may disagree with."
"Fuck you, stronzo! I ain't working for you!" Lucio spat. "I'd sooner give my soul to the diavolo than betray the famiglia!"
The owner stared at Lucio in surprise for a moment. He half-expected the man to claim the Caponi's would call for his death, yet by the look of it, he was resigned and fully willing to own up for his failure to bring them glory and results for his attempts to help them rise back into power. He knew he was going to die, but he would do so with what little honor he had.
A moment passed before the owner felt his smile morph into a grin. "Outstanding… Such a fine will you possess. Let us see if it will carry you toward the future that awaits us." He motioned for the woman in the qipao to come forward. She did so while presenting a gold-tipped arrow for him, which he accepted. "Allow me to amend my previous statement, signore. Before you lie two paths. The path to glory…"
The agents pulled Lucio back up, though before Lucio could spit out more curses at the owner, he gasped in pain as the arrow impaled itself on his stomach.
"…and the path to death. If your will is strong, then glory shall await you. You will be reborn with power beyond imagination. If your will falters, then you die. It's rather simple compared to when I gave you the formula for Sting, is it not?"
He ignored Lucio's howls of pain and suffering, walking past him. The agents holding Lucio down vanished, turning to smoke. The woman in the qipao followed after him. As the owner prepared to leave, he flashed a toothy smile at the writhing Italian.
"If you still draw breath when next we meet, I shall welcome you. However, know this…"
His eyes turned crimson, white fangs laid bare for all to see.
"No matter what power you are blessed with, you shall never reach my heights."
The woman shut the door behind them, even as Lucio's screams turned into a crescendo of agony.
"Kurai!"
"Stop," a stern voice said. "Rewind by 2.5 seconds. Replay and go frame by frame."
The footage rewound and played in slow motion. The Stand moved so slowly, but each strike was clearly visible and delivered its blows with frightening accuracy and a surprising amount of weight.
The balding man who spoke earlier studied the Stand intently. He lost count of how many times he watched the footage, replaying in various speeds so as to catch little details anyone else might have missed. Every time he watched the battle unfold, he could not help but wonder how long the Stand-user had been in action.
"So, what's the verdict?"
The man grunted. "Amateurish, but at the very least they have a good understanding of their Stand's capabilities," he said. "It requires shadows to assume a corporeal form. In terms of function, it's similar to an autonomous Stand and the damage doesn't return to the user, though this is possibly because the Stand itself is a living shadow."
"So if it's exposed to light, it should be vulnerable?" the man next to him asked.
"Possibly. We'll need more information. Honestly, I'm surprised the information is so detailed. Remind me again, who gave us this?"
"Armsmaster of the Brockton Bay Protectorate, current acting leader of the Wards. He and Dragon helped compile all the data they have on 'Dark'."
He rolled his eyes. "Please tell me that is not what they're calling her."
"It's a temporary designation and is subject to change." The man looked back at the footage, specifically at the moment when the Stand sent Cold World flying. "Cold World was by no means a slouch. We had trouble with him before. How is it that a rookie was able to defeat him all by herself?"
The balding man grunted. "That's the thing when it comes to battles like this, greenhorn." He dug into his pocket, taking out a metal container and opening it. Inside were several thick cigars. He took one of them and returned the container to his pocket before lighting the cigar with a match. "Even a Stand that should be weak can overpower a superior foe. When it comes down to it, you need only three things. Luck, experience, and knowledge. Nine times out of time, it's someone who understands how their Stand works and uses their powers to the fullest that wins. It's a lot like how them fights in that manga with pirates go. Er, what was it called again?"
For some reason, his companion looked surprised. "You…read manga, sir?"
"Got a problem with that?"
"N-no, I just wasn't expecting it. You're always so serious, so I thought…"
"Even an old man like me needs a hobby and all," the balding man huffed. He exhaled a large plume of smoke before glancing at the newbie next to him. He had been with the Speedwagon Foundation for two months, but he quickly proved his chops during the incident in Atlanta. "Anyways, I want you to memorize all this."
The newbie blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you've been picked to head off to Brockton Bay. See what this newbie's all about."
His eyes widened and stared at the balding man in shock. "A-are you sure, sir? I mean, I'm still…"
"Orders from the top, kid. Both the honcho and the President nominated you. 'course, you won't be going it alone. A senior member will be accompanying you. You know Avdol, right?"
"He was my proctor, yes."
The balding man smiled wryly. "Great, then that simplifies things." He patted the newbie on the shoulder and made his way out the room. "Better get started, kid. There might be a pop quiz!" He exited the room before the kid could respond. As the door slid shut behind him, the man wondered why the boss and the President wanted him to join the investigation. Was it to be his first field mission and they wanted to test the waters? Or was it a test of his loyalty?
Either way, he was sure nothing bad would happen. As bad as the city's reputation was, parahumans had a natural disadvantage to Stand-users given how different their powers were. It was hard to battle something you couldn't see, and depending on the Stand and its user, the fight was usually over before it began. That did not mean Stand-users were invincible, of course. At the end of the day, they were still human. All it took was being run over by a car or a well-placed bullet.
"Now that I think about it…" the man looked up in thought. "Wasn't Brockton Bay where he was posted?"
He idly wondered if there might be a connection between the new Stand-user and him, but dismissed the thought. It was a possibility, but unlikely. The balding man rounded the corner and paused when he saw a man wearing a black vest and white-button up shirt with a red tie and black gloves leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest.
"Back from your mission already, Caprio?" the balding man asked in surprise. "I thought you'd still be stuck in Egypt."
The silver-haired man scoffed. "It was hardly any trouble. The only problem we had was finding where the mask was. All the vampires are dead and the mask is destroyed. Unfortunately, word is already out on the net. Several media outlets are saying the serial murders were caused by a blood-sucking monsters."
The balding man shrugged. "Nothing you can do about that. We only learned about that when it was too late. At best, all we could do was damage control."
"Is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"A new Stand-user showed up in Brockton Bay and took down Cold World. Is it true?"
He raised an eyebrow. Why would Caprio be asking him about that? Did this case interest him? No, couldn't be. He knew the bastard since he first joined, and he was very picky about his assignments. "Yeah. Seems like their Stand is based on shadows. Why are you… H-hey, where are you going?!"
"To talk to the Director," Caprio answered as he walked away. "I want to meet this person."
"H-hang on a second here, friend. The mission's already been decided. Avdol and Fugo are going to Brockton Bay and help the Protectorate there investigate the Stand-user and that weird-ass drug. You can't just force your way on the team!"
The silver-haired man looked over his shoulder, amber eyes narrowed into a heated glare. The balding man returned it with defiance. The two stared each other down, neither refusing to back down.
"Don't tell me… Caprio, is this because of Saraceno?"
A sense of menace (ゴゴゴゴ) filled the air. In a burst of impulsion, Caprio's Stand appeared behind him in a furious flare. A humanoid figure, lean and athletic and little more than a black void filled with stars. Multi-colored rings encircled its forearms, wrists, calves, and ankles. The only physical feature it had was the blue-and-silver mask over the top half of its face, resembling a wavy flame with narrow orange eyes.
The air shimmered, warping almost as if in response to the Stand's emergence. Caprio's eyes became as cold as the winter tundras. As quickly as the Stand appeared, it receded back into Caprio and he walked away.
Senator Phillips looked at the foot-shaped dents in the floor and the spiderweb-cracks surrounding the dents, then at Caprio's retreating back.
He sighed. "This is going to be a problem, isn't it?"
SkyRig: This interlude was written by yours truly. Which honestly should have been written sooner, but what can you do?
TheStranger: Let's just chalk it up to technical difficulties and leave it at that. Anyways, the Stand Gravity was made by Daemon of Wrath/Evolto, though it will be a while before you get to see Caprio and his Stand in action. And before you ask, the "Fugo" mentioned here is Pannacotta Fugo from Part 5. No guesses as to who Avdol is either.
SkyRig: Senator Phillips is also based off the same character who got killed off near the end of Part 3. If it wasn't clear, we are including JoJo characters from various parts, which also the whole alternate universe stuff from Parts 7 and 8. As for who the "JoJo" of Rolling Stone is…
TheStranger: Sky…
SkyRig: Okay, okay, I won't spoil it.
TheStranger: Regarding progress, 2.1 is already finished and 2.2 is underway. As I've stated numerous times up to this point, we will be completing each arc then release each chapter week by week. Which won't be for a while, though, as my focus lies in another of my fanfics.
SkyRig: That's it for now folks! Before we end things off, take a guess as to who the Stand in the first half of the interlude is!
I do appreciate a good theatre maester; this is a man who fully accepts the concequences of selecting the players in his drama to be dedicated to their character roles, even if he himself should become their object of ire by some misfortune.
- Pronouns
- Masculine
Whelp...
...That... isn't Coil, is it?
Is Dio funding the Undersiders? Or some other vampire? Oh dear oh dear.
...That... isn't Coil, is it?
Is Dio funding the Undersiders? Or some other vampire? Oh dear oh dear.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Oh shit, is that DIO himself?! That old bat is still in play... i guess parahumanity would set loose a good few butterflies in Egypt and such. Ngl i kinda thought the bald guy was gonna be an aging Joseph, but i'm glad to be wrong. Good to see thie goin still!!