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madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Giorno has a conversation with Death.
Word Count: 1384
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.
He doesn’t have Mista or another of the Passione to watch his back in the instance, but it can’t be helped, and in fact, is probably for the best. He probably could use the same technique to inoculate them against the deathly aura, but given their losses years ago, he’s been much more careful about what sorts of risks he allows his subordinates to take.
The dragon is another such. It is majestic, yes, even as the elephant had been, but there’s something sad to its allure. And yet, it is a Stand, surrounded by death, a garden full of molding, rotting, the dying, the dead. It has by its very presence turned a garden teeming with life into a cemetery where the dead rest. The feeling of wrongness adds to the impressive size and scales and intelligence. Even the sun seems to be dying, leaving the area dark and cold. If he walks away from the area, it is likely that sun and life alike would return, but he is determined to deal with this here and now.
There’s a touch of the ironic about the situation as well. One of the ridiculous conversations he’d had with the whole team so many years ago was one about their favorite fictional creatures (which might be Stands, who knew), started, of course, by Narancia, who enthusiastically declared the harpy (a flying creature with boobs, he explained enthusiastically, to which Bucciarati just smiled indulgently). Picking any living creature as a favorite was a difficult one, because life was fascinating in all of its forms and he didn’t think he could ever study it enough, though, of course, there was little enough time for that as such an important figure of the Passione. He’d finally declared his to be a dragon, full of dignity and grace and yet such menace. He could do worse than a dragon. He mustn’t let the admiration control him, however.
Many depictions just declared them ravening beasts, killing indiscriminately for food (which was, after all, elegant in its own way, in the simplicity of form). Older ones spoke of the gold-lust, but the intelligence. Dragons were fond of riddles, highly intelligent, but great care had to be taken when speaking with them. It was good that he’d had practice speaking with dangerous, powerful creatures (those former members of the Passione and other Mafia heads who were willing to deal with him, of course), but he shouldn’t let down his guard, not for a second. It appeared that this dragon, too, was possessed of intelligence. The words themselves could be those of a brute as well as a genius, but the fact that it could speak Italian despite the fact that it was not the Stand of an Italian Stand User (Passione would know) and knew to address him in the language that felt most like his native one is, indeed, a powerful indicator. He feels the urge to run, but if he’d given into that urge, he would never have achieved his goals, and refuses to do so.
“Ah. The Dhampir child. And yet you are full of such life coursing through your veins.” It has some idea of who and what he is, then. He refuses to be intimidated, however, to show this deadly creature weakness.
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the term,” he responds, apologetic and polite.
“The son of vampire and human. I wasn’t aware creatures such as you could possibly exist,” the deep voice resounds through the hush of the zone of death surrounding them. A raven flies too close and falls, stunned, the life draining from it.
“I would say the same,” Giorno agrees.
The rumble of a laugh echoes loudly, and Giorno feels a hint of pleased pride, though he doesn’t delude himself. He’s merely earned a reprieve.
The most overpowered, albeit the most difficult and time-consuming, action would be to create another creature like the elephant, but his strength is already weakened by the effects of the vaccine, and in any case it would not remain alive long enough to reflect an attack. He could attempt to give it life, the same way he had done to the previous statue, but it’s chancy, as it might not work, and he has the feeling that if it was possible, it wouldn’t work unless the dragon wished it to. If it’s anything like fictional dragons, it’s going to want to play, not merely accept the fate, even if that’s what it wants—which, while frustrating, is a point of view Giovanna can respect. If it comes to it, he can use the power gained at the Coliseum, but that’s a last resort. Beating it in battle might be one way to win, but injuries gained as the result of an unwanted detour in the middle of business would be annoying. He has no illusions that a conversation might be just as deadly, given that this is a dragon with which he is talking, but it’s an avenue worth exploring.
“You amuse me, little dhampir.” Smoothly, it slips into Japanese, a move that makes a shiver run up Giorno’s spine, though he makes sure not to move an inch from his relaxed pose before the mighty creature. “You’ve earned some truth—appreciate it well, because it’s rare in this world.” The Stand sighs heavily. And then, just as easily, it goes back to Italian, for ease of conversation, Giorno suspects. “My User is doomed to die. I’ve felt the death hanging about her like a shadow.”
This feels oddly like a business chat in a coffee shop, all friendly words with guns and knives at the ready. “Perhaps we could help her,” Giorno offers, for he’s not above trying to gain a valuable ally. “It would be a pity for such a majestic creature such as you to stop existing.”
The dragon rumbles a laugh again. “There is no turning back the tide, though I have sensed that we will continue to exist after her death—within reason, of course. Two of the four have already been defeated, in a way that destroys the very idea of their existence. You may have noticed the statues that have awoken due to hearing our call.” It managed to amuse itself, this time. “The Four Horseman of London Calling. I am Death.”
It’s one thing to get the idea, another to hear the words said out loud. The atmosphere is oppressive. “You said that despite my heritage, you could feel the life within me. I feel the same from you. I could nurture that spark of life.”
“We must both earn that outcome, I’m afraid.” The dragon sounds almost apologetic, but it was an outcome Giorno had already predicted and prepared for. “I long for true life or true death, and have been unable to find either. I am a parasite, constantly draining the life around me, and yet no matter how much life I drink, I remain dead. If you do use your power on me, I wish to be certain it will not fade.”
Fair enough, Giovanna acknowledges silently, and in the same breath Gold Experience charges with a loud “MUDA!”
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Giorno has a conversation with Death.
Word Count: 1384
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.
There are very few things that can truly shake Don Giovanna’s composure. He’s good about keeping cool under pressure. The fight against the User of White Album had truly pushed his limits and brought to his attention that for all of his confidence in his dream and his power, he was, after all, only fifteen at the time. Weakness was useless, holding him back, and could never be shown, must not be tolerated if he could help it. He had truly panicked, but Mista had been a true friend during the fight, and he’d appreciated the trust and dedication (but then, Mista truly had accepted and welcomed him in a way the others had not, hadn’t he?). He’s had time to grow and mature since then. The final fight against the former Boss had been one such occasion, and he’s very glad he had the way to fully unlock his potential. It would be for the best that he not have to use it on this occasion; he’s not sure what continued use would do to a User, even one with such control over life as he.
He doesn’t have Mista or another of the Passione to watch his back in the instance, but it can’t be helped, and in fact, is probably for the best. He probably could use the same technique to inoculate them against the deathly aura, but given their losses years ago, he’s been much more careful about what sorts of risks he allows his subordinates to take.
The dragon is another such. It is majestic, yes, even as the elephant had been, but there’s something sad to its allure. And yet, it is a Stand, surrounded by death, a garden full of molding, rotting, the dying, the dead. It has by its very presence turned a garden teeming with life into a cemetery where the dead rest. The feeling of wrongness adds to the impressive size and scales and intelligence. Even the sun seems to be dying, leaving the area dark and cold. If he walks away from the area, it is likely that sun and life alike would return, but he is determined to deal with this here and now.
There’s a touch of the ironic about the situation as well. One of the ridiculous conversations he’d had with the whole team so many years ago was one about their favorite fictional creatures (which might be Stands, who knew), started, of course, by Narancia, who enthusiastically declared the harpy (a flying creature with boobs, he explained enthusiastically, to which Bucciarati just smiled indulgently). Picking any living creature as a favorite was a difficult one, because life was fascinating in all of its forms and he didn’t think he could ever study it enough, though, of course, there was little enough time for that as such an important figure of the Passione. He’d finally declared his to be a dragon, full of dignity and grace and yet such menace. He could do worse than a dragon. He mustn’t let the admiration control him, however.
Many depictions just declared them ravening beasts, killing indiscriminately for food (which was, after all, elegant in its own way, in the simplicity of form). Older ones spoke of the gold-lust, but the intelligence. Dragons were fond of riddles, highly intelligent, but great care had to be taken when speaking with them. It was good that he’d had practice speaking with dangerous, powerful creatures (those former members of the Passione and other Mafia heads who were willing to deal with him, of course), but he shouldn’t let down his guard, not for a second. It appeared that this dragon, too, was possessed of intelligence. The words themselves could be those of a brute as well as a genius, but the fact that it could speak Italian despite the fact that it was not the Stand of an Italian Stand User (Passione would know) and knew to address him in the language that felt most like his native one is, indeed, a powerful indicator. He feels the urge to run, but if he’d given into that urge, he would never have achieved his goals, and refuses to do so.
“Ah. The Dhampir child. And yet you are full of such life coursing through your veins.” It has some idea of who and what he is, then. He refuses to be intimidated, however, to show this deadly creature weakness.
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the term,” he responds, apologetic and polite.
“The son of vampire and human. I wasn’t aware creatures such as you could possibly exist,” the deep voice resounds through the hush of the zone of death surrounding them. A raven flies too close and falls, stunned, the life draining from it.
“I would say the same,” Giorno agrees.
The rumble of a laugh echoes loudly, and Giorno feels a hint of pleased pride, though he doesn’t delude himself. He’s merely earned a reprieve.
The most overpowered, albeit the most difficult and time-consuming, action would be to create another creature like the elephant, but his strength is already weakened by the effects of the vaccine, and in any case it would not remain alive long enough to reflect an attack. He could attempt to give it life, the same way he had done to the previous statue, but it’s chancy, as it might not work, and he has the feeling that if it was possible, it wouldn’t work unless the dragon wished it to. If it’s anything like fictional dragons, it’s going to want to play, not merely accept the fate, even if that’s what it wants—which, while frustrating, is a point of view Giovanna can respect. If it comes to it, he can use the power gained at the Coliseum, but that’s a last resort. Beating it in battle might be one way to win, but injuries gained as the result of an unwanted detour in the middle of business would be annoying. He has no illusions that a conversation might be just as deadly, given that this is a dragon with which he is talking, but it’s an avenue worth exploring.
“You amuse me, little dhampir.” Smoothly, it slips into Japanese, a move that makes a shiver run up Giorno’s spine, though he makes sure not to move an inch from his relaxed pose before the mighty creature. “You’ve earned some truth—appreciate it well, because it’s rare in this world.” The Stand sighs heavily. And then, just as easily, it goes back to Italian, for ease of conversation, Giorno suspects. “My User is doomed to die. I’ve felt the death hanging about her like a shadow.”
This feels oddly like a business chat in a coffee shop, all friendly words with guns and knives at the ready. “Perhaps we could help her,” Giorno offers, for he’s not above trying to gain a valuable ally. “It would be a pity for such a majestic creature such as you to stop existing.”
The dragon rumbles a laugh again. “There is no turning back the tide, though I have sensed that we will continue to exist after her death—within reason, of course. Two of the four have already been defeated, in a way that destroys the very idea of their existence. You may have noticed the statues that have awoken due to hearing our call.” It managed to amuse itself, this time. “The Four Horseman of London Calling. I am Death.”
It’s one thing to get the idea, another to hear the words said out loud. The atmosphere is oppressive. “You said that despite my heritage, you could feel the life within me. I feel the same from you. I could nurture that spark of life.”
“We must both earn that outcome, I’m afraid.” The dragon sounds almost apologetic, but it was an outcome Giorno had already predicted and prepared for. “I long for true life or true death, and have been unable to find either. I am a parasite, constantly draining the life around me, and yet no matter how much life I drink, I remain dead. If you do use your power on me, I wish to be certain it will not fade.”
Fair enough, Giovanna acknowledges silently, and in the same breath Gold Experience charges with a loud “MUDA!”
