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madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Johan tries the Joestar Secret Technique.
Word Count: 1039
Rating: Gen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.
Yare yare daze, echoes in his head, and yeah, okay, maybe that joke was a step too far, but he’s freaked out and so he’s not working with his best material, all right?
He only gets to slow his fall twice using Pretender to grab the slight ledge on every couple floors, wincing at the strain on his already painful arms, before he hears the loud crashing indicating the Cthulhu statue had flown into the waiting elevator at high speed. It’s making that loud unearthly screeching sound again, only this time, it’s echoing and growing in sound as it reverberates through the elevator shaft. He can’t help but add his own scream to the mix as he tries his best to block out the sound with his own hands and feels something warm and wet drip past his palms. Crap. Blood, probably. This thing is a menace, but then, what did I expect from fighting a Cthulhu statue?
He glances up to see a golden flash fade—so the hamon did do something, even if it probably just ticked it off rather than did serious damage—No, wait, maybe energy’s more effective when it’s in between worlds, as the only thing that can reach it—physical stuff isn’t going to do anything when it’s there—and has a second, stretched out to a million moments as his sendo mastery appears to slow down time, to react. He and Pretender reach out with their feet and hands blindly, wincing at the shock of the landing upon their already aching joints, and flatten themselves against the elevator doors as the elevator, statue and all, falls past at incredible speeds. One edge catches Pretender’s shoulder, tearing a chunk out of the non-armored flesh, and he screams again, struggling to catch his own ragged breath. He can’t dull the pain if he can’t catch his breath, but he can’t catch his breath if he can’t dull the pain…!
Fitz will be furious, he thinks vaguely. I don’t think I’ll die if I can just at least make it to Von Stroheim. She has a plan. But that doesn’t help much when I’m wasting time here because I can barely move…
He reaches out a shaky hand to try to pry the doors open with Pretender’s help, only for his shoulder to shriek in agony at the doubled pain. He doesn’t even have to look to know that the cold soaking his shoulder is most likely also—
He hopes Robin’s been taught the healing hamon, because he’s not comfortable with Fitz taking on the wounds he’s sustained, even if it’s easy enough to heal him with hamon afterward. Maybe it’ll teach you to be more careful in the future, Jojo. He starts. That voice sounded so real, so lifelike—is he starting to hallucinate?
No. He refuses. Pain is an old friend, deeply ingrained into even his childhood. It won’t be pain that brings him down, especially as pain is all in the head. He can think away the pain, if he tries, or at least make it manageable, enough that his breathing can do the rest. He just has to have something to hang on to—two somethings, if he thinks about it.
One—the statue’s being really quiet. He’s not sure how he knows it’s not just wishful thinking, but he does—he did manage to injure it, somehow. Still, it’s not as if he could do much with his breathing to hurt it, now. Whatever hamon he has would only be an accessory to whatever Von Stroheim’s planning.
Two—that thing ruined his clothes. His new clothes. He really likes the leather jacket, and stuff like blood really ruins leather, and he’s not sure if he can even talk Fitz into another shopping trip given what happened on the last one. That’s really rude.
He breathes in. It’s shaky, but he’s not trying to get a ripple pattern going, just enough to give him strength to open the doors. He grits his teeth even as he exhales as he and Pretender pry open the doors, and they run as best they can to the stairway.
Fortunately, Cthulhu’s not waiting there with an ambush.
Unfortunately, he can’t afford to slow down his speed much, since speed is of the essence. Just enough that the impact won’t kill.
It hurts each and every time he slows it down, and the impact as Pretender hits the ground, knees bending to absorb some of the impact, jars itself all the way up his spine, but at least he’s still alive.
He limps to the building entrance, and—
Woah. Johan wishes he’d been paying attention the last time Captain Beefheart had used her Stand, because that just looks cool. She’s stolen a car, and now an armored cyborg behind her—that reminds me of the Old Von Stroheim, the part of his brain that is Joseph muses, and he can’t disagree—slowly fades into a green outline. At the same time, a green, futuristic outline—like Iron Man or Tron or something, cool!—builds itself around the car. She’s going to turn it into a tank. Good choice.
“Well, what are you doing, Jojoooo? Get in and stop standing there!” she yells at him. Ordinarily, he’d object to being yelled at, but since it’s good advice, he just gets inside as fast as he possibly can.
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Johan tries the Joestar Secret Technique.
Word Count: 1039
Rating: Gen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.
Johan’s doing his best not to panic. It’s not that he’s claustrophobic, persay, but he’s seen far too many horror movies and played far too many horror games, and falling down an elevator shaft is not the way he wants to go. Falling with the plane was a lot less scary, because he felt more in control. Plus, he wasn’t injured. For whatever reason, that seems to have an effect on his morale. Still, if he wants to make the rendezvous with Von Stroheim, it’s the quickest and honestly safest way. He could follow the same strategy of slowing his fall in the stairwell, but he couldn’t have set up that neat hamon trap with his ripplefu, and Cthulhu would have caught up to him and done…whatever horrible thing Cthulhu does to his victims. Sentenced to death by hentai, maybe?
Yare yare daze, echoes in his head, and yeah, okay, maybe that joke was a step too far, but he’s freaked out and so he’s not working with his best material, all right?
He only gets to slow his fall twice using Pretender to grab the slight ledge on every couple floors, wincing at the strain on his already painful arms, before he hears the loud crashing indicating the Cthulhu statue had flown into the waiting elevator at high speed. It’s making that loud unearthly screeching sound again, only this time, it’s echoing and growing in sound as it reverberates through the elevator shaft. He can’t help but add his own scream to the mix as he tries his best to block out the sound with his own hands and feels something warm and wet drip past his palms. Crap. Blood, probably. This thing is a menace, but then, what did I expect from fighting a Cthulhu statue?
He glances up to see a golden flash fade—so the hamon did do something, even if it probably just ticked it off rather than did serious damage—No, wait, maybe energy’s more effective when it’s in between worlds, as the only thing that can reach it—physical stuff isn’t going to do anything when it’s there—and has a second, stretched out to a million moments as his sendo mastery appears to slow down time, to react. He and Pretender reach out with their feet and hands blindly, wincing at the shock of the landing upon their already aching joints, and flatten themselves against the elevator doors as the elevator, statue and all, falls past at incredible speeds. One edge catches Pretender’s shoulder, tearing a chunk out of the non-armored flesh, and he screams again, struggling to catch his own ragged breath. He can’t dull the pain if he can’t catch his breath, but he can’t catch his breath if he can’t dull the pain…!
Fitz will be furious, he thinks vaguely. I don’t think I’ll die if I can just at least make it to Von Stroheim. She has a plan. But that doesn’t help much when I’m wasting time here because I can barely move…
He reaches out a shaky hand to try to pry the doors open with Pretender’s help, only for his shoulder to shriek in agony at the doubled pain. He doesn’t even have to look to know that the cold soaking his shoulder is most likely also—
He hopes Robin’s been taught the healing hamon, because he’s not comfortable with Fitz taking on the wounds he’s sustained, even if it’s easy enough to heal him with hamon afterward. Maybe it’ll teach you to be more careful in the future, Jojo. He starts. That voice sounded so real, so lifelike—is he starting to hallucinate?
No. He refuses. Pain is an old friend, deeply ingrained into even his childhood. It won’t be pain that brings him down, especially as pain is all in the head. He can think away the pain, if he tries, or at least make it manageable, enough that his breathing can do the rest. He just has to have something to hang on to—two somethings, if he thinks about it.
One—the statue’s being really quiet. He’s not sure how he knows it’s not just wishful thinking, but he does—he did manage to injure it, somehow. Still, it’s not as if he could do much with his breathing to hurt it, now. Whatever hamon he has would only be an accessory to whatever Von Stroheim’s planning.
Two—that thing ruined his clothes. His new clothes. He really likes the leather jacket, and stuff like blood really ruins leather, and he’s not sure if he can even talk Fitz into another shopping trip given what happened on the last one. That’s really rude.
He breathes in. It’s shaky, but he’s not trying to get a ripple pattern going, just enough to give him strength to open the doors. He grits his teeth even as he exhales as he and Pretender pry open the doors, and they run as best they can to the stairway.
Fortunately, Cthulhu’s not waiting there with an ambush.
Unfortunately, he can’t afford to slow down his speed much, since speed is of the essence. Just enough that the impact won’t kill.
It hurts each and every time he slows it down, and the impact as Pretender hits the ground, knees bending to absorb some of the impact, jars itself all the way up his spine, but at least he’s still alive.
He limps to the building entrance, and—
Woah. Johan wishes he’d been paying attention the last time Captain Beefheart had used her Stand, because that just looks cool. She’s stolen a car, and now an armored cyborg behind her—that reminds me of the Old Von Stroheim, the part of his brain that is Joseph muses, and he can’t disagree—slowly fades into a green outline. At the same time, a green, futuristic outline—like Iron Man or Tron or something, cool!—builds itself around the car. She’s going to turn it into a tank. Good choice.
“Well, what are you doing, Jojoooo? Get in and stop standing there!” she yells at him. Ordinarily, he’d object to being yelled at, but since it’s good advice, he just gets inside as fast as he possibly can.
