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madimpossibledreamer) wrote2021-01-22 05:45 pm
madimpossibledreamer) wrote2021-01-22 05:45 pm
Entry tags:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 185
*Note to the reader: 250,000 Imperial gallons = about 300,000 US gallons = about 1,100,000 liters
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Fitz tries to fight against the Stand's effects...
Word Count: 1144
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
The wave is irresistible. It reminds him of the time he’d gone with his Mum to the ocean, and she’d warned him about riptides. This time, though, there’s no swimming sideways, it’s definitely not water, and it does seem determined to drown him, drag him under and leave him in a watery grave. He hits a wall. Fortunately, the speed isn’t quite quick enough for the impact to have done him serious damage, but it is enough to force the air from his lungs. And then he inhales, and that’s a serious mistake, because the liquid burns his throat, and he starts coughing, which only makes the situation worse since he’s underwater, if such a thing can be said of something that isn’t water. It’s enough to identify the liquid, though.
It’s alcohol. Porter, by the taste of it, and an older variety too, which—now there’s an idea. He’d read about it, since an old gran had mentioned it and it’d invoked his curiosity. The London Beer Flood of 1814. One of the giant wooden vats had burst, leading to the aforementioned beer, about two hundred fifty thousand imperial gallons of it, flooding the brewery and streets. Walls had been knocked down, and eight people died. And—of course. The location of the tragedy. The brewery used to be located where the Dominion Theatre stands now—the very same theatre they are currently within. It makes the fire that had forced them out of their temporary headquarters in the apartment building that had suffered from an arson case in the past make sense as well.
He’s not certain how, and wants to say it’s impossible, but all sorts of ridiculous Stands exist. Why not one that can summon the spectres of tragedies of the past?
He tries to catch on to something, anything along the wall as the current carries him along. The question is, how does one fight a Stand like this? The flood wasn’t stopped. The survivors and company merely picked up the pieces in the aftermath. Unfortunate conclusions about inevitability and fate swirl around his mind, but he shakes that off. He refuses to lay down and die.
He fails to grasp anything, and the flood speeds up as it escapes the narrowed confines of the doorway. He summons LJ—Lotus Juice, that is—and hears it make a soft, distressed chirp as it attempts to keep up with him before the beer pulls him back under. He can probably affect the liquid, since it has water in it, but he’s not sure how that would help. Healing himself, yes. But he’s not that wounded, and he might need to save his strength for something else. In any case, he’s never actually tried to use a water blend, so the effects might be muted or even unpredictable.
His back hits something. It’s a little jarring against his spine, but the current’s stopped carrying him for a bit, and both he and Lotus Juice take the moment as the opportunity it is. Razor-sharp tentacles curl around his belt and haul with frantic strength, digging in and poking him a little. He feels the burn in his arms. His Stand isn’t meant for strength contests of this sort. Fortunately, it’s not acting on its own. He scrambles backwards, because once it pulls him up a step, he realizes that it’s stairs, and while he’s ended up halfway up them already, the currents end, so if he manages to make it onto the landing, he’ll be fine. When he does so and makes it to the landing, with his back against the wall, LJ drops the half-shredded ruins of his belt and nudges him gently with its shell.
“Yes, I’m happy I made it, too,” he mutters to his Stand affectionately, taking a moment—but only a moment—to breathe, throat burning a little from accidentally swallowing the alcohol. It’s impossible to tell, really, whether his head swimming is an effect of ingesting the beer or largely being oxygen deprived during that frantic rush underwater.
But now he needs a plan. He can’t simply swim back. Presumably, if the rules of the Stand work the way he thinks they do, the rush of beer will disappear, but he’s not sure he has that kind of time. Johan had taken that hit with the rock and had fallen. He can’t be certain, but he hadn’t seen Jojo make it to his feet before he’d been taken by the flood, himself. In any case, it had been difficult enough for him to escape the beer’s velocity, and he wasn’t dazed and wounded.
And he makes another connection, tasting the porter on his lips, smelling it on his drenched clothes. Xander had mentioned drunks on his father’s side, and with his sympathy for Darling…
Fitz swallows, trying not to let the disgust and rage overwhelm. Perhaps he’s too close to the matter. Making assumptions about Jojo’s father due to his relationship with his own. But this is hardly the time. They might be allied, or they might not even know anything about Sarde, but he’s not here right now. Alice is. So is Pixie. He should concentrate on one thing at a time.
So, Johan was wounded, possibly drowning, and in an unknown location. In addition, he might be under some psychological distress, depending on the type of drunks present in his father’s side of the family, and due to the wound or mental trauma might not be thinking rationally. Finding him promptly might save his life. It’s likely he couldn’t fight the current, so if Fitz follows that same current, he should find where Jojo washed up.
He swears he can see the skeptical, even judging look on Lotus Juice’s face, and his Stand doesn’t have much of an expression.
“You know it makes sense.” It’s also reckless and could easily end up in them both dying, but he’s not going to let himself think about failure. His life is every bit as important as Johan’s, so they both must make it through this. It’s the only real option. Besides, he can breathe in Lotus Juice’s ‘water’, so he might be able to breathe, now that he can plan and devise a way to prevent him from getting separated from his Stand. LJ can even serve as his ‘eyes’. Surprisingly, one of the water pistols remains tucked into one of his pockets. He secures it further, hoping it’ll be enough, and with a worried chirp, Lotus Juice grabs the front of his belt this time, cradling into his stomach carefully. Hopefully, he’ll be able to serve to shield his Stand from the water’s flow, because he’s under no illusions that the full force of the current would have severed a tentacle or two instantly.
He takes a deep breath and dives back into the flood.
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Fitz tries to fight against the Stand's effects...
Word Count: 1144
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
The wave is irresistible. It reminds him of the time he’d gone with his Mum to the ocean, and she’d warned him about riptides. This time, though, there’s no swimming sideways, it’s definitely not water, and it does seem determined to drown him, drag him under and leave him in a watery grave. He hits a wall. Fortunately, the speed isn’t quite quick enough for the impact to have done him serious damage, but it is enough to force the air from his lungs. And then he inhales, and that’s a serious mistake, because the liquid burns his throat, and he starts coughing, which only makes the situation worse since he’s underwater, if such a thing can be said of something that isn’t water. It’s enough to identify the liquid, though.
It’s alcohol. Porter, by the taste of it, and an older variety too, which—now there’s an idea. He’d read about it, since an old gran had mentioned it and it’d invoked his curiosity. The London Beer Flood of 1814. One of the giant wooden vats had burst, leading to the aforementioned beer, about two hundred fifty thousand imperial gallons of it, flooding the brewery and streets. Walls had been knocked down, and eight people died. And—of course. The location of the tragedy. The brewery used to be located where the Dominion Theatre stands now—the very same theatre they are currently within. It makes the fire that had forced them out of their temporary headquarters in the apartment building that had suffered from an arson case in the past make sense as well.
He’s not certain how, and wants to say it’s impossible, but all sorts of ridiculous Stands exist. Why not one that can summon the spectres of tragedies of the past?
He tries to catch on to something, anything along the wall as the current carries him along. The question is, how does one fight a Stand like this? The flood wasn’t stopped. The survivors and company merely picked up the pieces in the aftermath. Unfortunate conclusions about inevitability and fate swirl around his mind, but he shakes that off. He refuses to lay down and die.
He fails to grasp anything, and the flood speeds up as it escapes the narrowed confines of the doorway. He summons LJ—Lotus Juice, that is—and hears it make a soft, distressed chirp as it attempts to keep up with him before the beer pulls him back under. He can probably affect the liquid, since it has water in it, but he’s not sure how that would help. Healing himself, yes. But he’s not that wounded, and he might need to save his strength for something else. In any case, he’s never actually tried to use a water blend, so the effects might be muted or even unpredictable.
His back hits something. It’s a little jarring against his spine, but the current’s stopped carrying him for a bit, and both he and Lotus Juice take the moment as the opportunity it is. Razor-sharp tentacles curl around his belt and haul with frantic strength, digging in and poking him a little. He feels the burn in his arms. His Stand isn’t meant for strength contests of this sort. Fortunately, it’s not acting on its own. He scrambles backwards, because once it pulls him up a step, he realizes that it’s stairs, and while he’s ended up halfway up them already, the currents end, so if he manages to make it onto the landing, he’ll be fine. When he does so and makes it to the landing, with his back against the wall, LJ drops the half-shredded ruins of his belt and nudges him gently with its shell.
“Yes, I’m happy I made it, too,” he mutters to his Stand affectionately, taking a moment—but only a moment—to breathe, throat burning a little from accidentally swallowing the alcohol. It’s impossible to tell, really, whether his head swimming is an effect of ingesting the beer or largely being oxygen deprived during that frantic rush underwater.
But now he needs a plan. He can’t simply swim back. Presumably, if the rules of the Stand work the way he thinks they do, the rush of beer will disappear, but he’s not sure he has that kind of time. Johan had taken that hit with the rock and had fallen. He can’t be certain, but he hadn’t seen Jojo make it to his feet before he’d been taken by the flood, himself. In any case, it had been difficult enough for him to escape the beer’s velocity, and he wasn’t dazed and wounded.
And he makes another connection, tasting the porter on his lips, smelling it on his drenched clothes. Xander had mentioned drunks on his father’s side, and with his sympathy for Darling…
Fitz swallows, trying not to let the disgust and rage overwhelm. Perhaps he’s too close to the matter. Making assumptions about Jojo’s father due to his relationship with his own. But this is hardly the time. They might be allied, or they might not even know anything about Sarde, but he’s not here right now. Alice is. So is Pixie. He should concentrate on one thing at a time.
So, Johan was wounded, possibly drowning, and in an unknown location. In addition, he might be under some psychological distress, depending on the type of drunks present in his father’s side of the family, and due to the wound or mental trauma might not be thinking rationally. Finding him promptly might save his life. It’s likely he couldn’t fight the current, so if Fitz follows that same current, he should find where Jojo washed up.
He swears he can see the skeptical, even judging look on Lotus Juice’s face, and his Stand doesn’t have much of an expression.
“You know it makes sense.” It’s also reckless and could easily end up in them both dying, but he’s not going to let himself think about failure. His life is every bit as important as Johan’s, so they both must make it through this. It’s the only real option. Besides, he can breathe in Lotus Juice’s ‘water’, so he might be able to breathe, now that he can plan and devise a way to prevent him from getting separated from his Stand. LJ can even serve as his ‘eyes’. Surprisingly, one of the water pistols remains tucked into one of his pockets. He secures it further, hoping it’ll be enough, and with a worried chirp, Lotus Juice grabs the front of his belt this time, cradling into his stomach carefully. Hopefully, he’ll be able to serve to shield his Stand from the water’s flow, because he’s under no illusions that the full force of the current would have severed a tentacle or two instantly.
He takes a deep breath and dives back into the flood.