Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 87

[madimpossibledreamer]

YO GIOGIO'S HERE I'VE GOT HYPE FOR DAYS PEOPLE
~DREAMER~

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Johan now has to deal with the consequences of putting a Joestar on a plane.
Word Count: 1107
Rating: Gen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.

 

           He’s been reduced to circling a few buildings, trailing that dumb lion, because he figures his best chance is to attempt to crash-land on the roof if necessary.  The whole structure is groaning now, louder and louder, which really doesn’t bode well for anyone ever.
           “Cyborg.  I’ve come up with a plan,” finally crackles over the radio, and he tries not to sigh too loudly in relief.  By the annoyance in the Captain’s voice she heard him anyway, but hey, at least he tried.  “I’m going to give you a parachute, then get rid of the plane.”
           He winces a little at the thought of that plan.  Of course, it’s a little late to be whining about crazy maneuvers by this point, but still, he does have some sense of self-preservation, thank you Fitz, even if it kicks in at the weirdest times.  It’s only been consistent when trying not to get in trouble with pretty women who could cheerfully murder him without much effort, and even then his lack of mouth-brain communication gets in the way more often than he’d like.  “Uhm.  What about Mr. Persistent Lion down there?  I’m not keen on being mauled.”
           “Don’t land within mauling range,” Beefheart suggests with a definitely Slayer-like air.  “I would suggest aiming for one of those rooftops you’re circling if you can manage it.”
           Well, it can probably climb buildings in the most destructive way possible by simply smashing its paw through the wall until it’s made itself a foothold, but at the very least it’ll buy him some time.  He consults the echoes in his head.  Apparently Joseph is a lunatic who’s never once tried to use a parachute even when it would make sense to do so (what, the plane seats worked fine, you worry too much Johannia he doesn’t even bother arguing the name thing) and Jorge…well, Jorge never had to, either.  But he’s at least had training, which is an overall improvement.  For instance, he knows how to put it on, and make sure it’s not going to just come off with the velocity as they rush downward with gravity.  Again.  So he’ll call that an improvement.
           “I’ll try my best, which is generally pretty good.”  It appears on his lap, and he realizes there’s a slight problem—he’ll have to take his hands off the control yoke to actually put on the parachute.  On the other hand, he doesn’t have that much choice, really.
           Unfortunately, the nose dips the second he takes his hands off.  He tries his best to achieve some sort of balance between speed and diligence, because like he told Fitz, he has absolutely no plans to die today.
           “Ready?” comes over the radio, and, well, he’s not, but if this plane continues to dive, especially with the kind of ripping sound—
           The entire plane shudders, the screaming of metal loud in his ears, and he starts to plummet.  “Now, now, now!” he yells, even though he’s pretty sure she’s got to know, and suddenly he’s in freefall all by himself.  He doesn’t have any time to waste if he has any plans to slow down his speed whatsoever.  Too quick and the parachute will just rip and be of no use to him anyway.  He pulls the chute.  It deploys, thank goodness, and despite the sudden strain and noticeable change to his velocity doesn’t tear.  At least, not immediately.  He tries to spread out his body to try to further the effect as much as he can without tearing the fragile fabric and cords and calculate a quick exit strategy.  If nothing else, Joseph’s a good one for thinking on his feet.
           He remembers something random from when he’d been training with Caesarino.  One of those times he was trying to train to hold the water in the glass.  He’d had what the Italian had graciously called ‘a unique failure’—he’d managed not only to expel the water from the glass but to crack the glass entirely, raining them both in glass shards.  He’d still been sending Hamon out from his palm, not the tips of his fingers.  And I’m right in front of a building with a lot of useful glass windows.  I can probably use Ripplefu to break it, and, well, if not, just my fist should do, even if that’d probably hurt worse.
           There’s not really time to consider his plan, think about the best way to do it or anything.  If he dangles here double-guessing himself like a sissy he’s just going to end up a smear down there on the pavement, either because he hits too hard or because a gargoyle takes a dislike to his face.  He reaches up and pulls ropes until he realizes how to steer himself and aims himself at the building.
           Jojo bounces off it lightly, on the tips of his toes, and breathes in deeply as he swings out.  He starts to exhale as he swings back toward a window two floors down, concentrating the crackling energy through the entirety of his feet and hoping that boots don’t do too much to dissipate energy.  Which—wait.  Both Jonathan and Zeppeli had managed to send Hamon through a wall and, well, a frog, so—
           Smash.
           He has enough presence of mind to roll, coming to a stop a couple feet from the window, kneeling and half-posing.  Johan’s breathing hard and covered in cuts, but he’s grinning from ear to ear.  That went well.
           And then he starts being dragged backward.  It takes him one panicked moment wondering whether that’s a gargoyle pulling his shoulder to realize no, it’s just the weight of the parachute.  Things are a little heavier than he would’ve expected.  It doesn’t feel like it’s enough to pull him far, but just in case he hastily pulls off everything he can and soon it’s falling back away from him.  Hopefully the Captain realizes he’s not attached to the parachute anymore, because he’s already freaked her out about his survival too much.
           And then Xander hears something behind him, like the flapping of wings, and turns very slowly to look, because he’s pretty sure that’s not a thing Von Stroheim really can do.
           He refuses to believe what he sees for all of five seconds, before he just has to voice his complaints to anyone who might be listening.
           “What sort of crazy cultist has a giant statue of Cthulhu in their yard?” he screams, because that’s just cheating.  Even if it’s actually that the User carries around the statue in their truck or something and pretends they’re an art dealer or something, that’s still cheating.