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madimpossibledreamerActually, Dio, it was because of something completely different, but you wouldn’t know that.
No one tell Hol Horse Dio’s back
He’d just have a panic attack
(it is…a pain to be carrying other people’s PTSD too)
Usual disclaimer about posting before beta's looked at it.
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Dio is, unfortunately, a clever vampire.
Word Count: 1239
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
Unfortunately, the yell of righteous fury cuts out all too quickly. Dio can’t physically see the cause, but he knows what it means all the same. He hadn’t completely managed to crush his other attacker to little pieces as thoroughly as he’d intended. How very…unfortunate.
“Too bad he’ll just regrow that arm. Little too quick for a big clumsy vampire like you, huh?” It’s easy to read the false bravado in those words. Dio had had a lot of practice as a child, before he’d perfected his false charisma, his fake mask of friendship.
Many people, Dio’s noted, tend to make the same mistakes when it comes to trying to understand each other. Particularly when they’re trying to understand if they’ve been insulted. They try to understand each and every word, get tripped up if there are words they don’t know. The only thing one really needs to know is the tone. Joestar’s definitely mocking, and he’s not as clever as he believes himself to be, either, because he’s given something away. Before, Dio had merely believed that his invisible attackers possibly weren’t human. Now, though, now that Joestar is implying it, he all but has proof. What’s more, he’s fairly certain, given the disgust in the tone as Joestar says the word ‘vampire’, that they’re not vampires, either, and they’re certainly more talkative than the average zombie, which can only mean they’re something new. Something, even, that can still channel Hamon like a human, despite the fact that this Joestar had to have discarded something of Jojo’s lauded humanity to obtain that kind of power.
“You might believe yourself quick for a human, and you might be invisible to my eyes, but you’re now bleeding, as is your associate.” He might not drink blood, like the trite stories in the penny dreadfuls, aside from theatricalities designed to intimidate. But he certainly has better senses than he did as a human, and where there’s a heart beating there’s a lifeform to drain of its vitality. He was right about the other one, too—it might be leaking some kind of vital fluid, but it doesn’t smell like blood. “Tell me, how do you plan to escape me this time?”
He savors the silent, frozen atmosphere for a few seconds before Joestar offers an answer hesitantly just as Dio comes to the same conclusion. “Hamon?”
Ah, but there’s something else there, something he’d overlooked. “Yes, but you’re mortal, and wounded. Quite badly, judging by the amount of blood. Tsk, you should have known better, punching ice that thick.” The condescending disapproval is all a show, but if life is a play, as Shakespeare had suggested, then there’s only room for one star of the show. By the sound of a fist clenching, it’s working exactly as intended. “And hamon requires good health, does it not? Jonathan’s lackeys made a fuss about his breathing. If I wait, your vaunted Ripple will fail. I have all the time in the world.”
The gasp means he’s onto something there. He hadn’t been meant to hear that, either—only a fool gives away his vulnerabilities in an encounter—but this body was capable of so very many things his human self wouldn’t have managed. Along those lines, he needn’t be told that the statement was a slight gamble on Dio’s part, since he had evidence his attackers weren’t fully human, at the very minimum. Probably at least partly human, given the use of Hamon. How fascinating, that the world is bigger than he’d imagined. Of course, it could prove to be deadly, but there are also opportunities, if he but tries. “Or—no. You had some sort of pathetic threat. What was it again? Something about a rabbit?”
“Do you want to hear about the humiliating defeats by the Joestar family, including becoming dust on the wind? The fact that you’re just an echo of the past, brought here by a rabbit who will discard you the instant you cease to be useful to her?” By the sound of it, while this Joestar wants to gloat, he also doesn’t want to give Dio any more hints than he’s already inadvertently given (if he’s even aware of his mistakes).
He’s probably, he supposes, supposed to feel some sort of anxiety that he might not be the ‘real’ Dio. A crisis of identity, or something. “If he died, then he’s useless to me other than as a stepping stone to my future victory. I don’t think you’d care to tell me where he went wrong. You’re terrified I’ll learn from his defeat. You’re shaking where you stand—or is that the blood loss?”
“I just can’t wait to kick your ass,” Joestar snarls, doing absolutely nothing to prove Dio wrong.
Dio smirks, opening his arms wide, dropping the bloody block of ice to increase the false impression of vulnerability. “Oh? Show me your bravery, Joestar. Do you think you’re fast enough to escape the laser eyes? Exert yourself harder, with your wound. Bleed more. Let me hear your heart beat, and you’ll be as good as visible.”
It seems he had, in fact, underestimated the animal-creature with Joestar. Joestar, like Jonathan, could be drawn in by words, though presumably even he had his breaking points. The creature, though, was like that accursed Speedwagon, focused entirely on eliminating him, because he had somehow planted another of those ghost lotuses without the blond vampire noticing, and apparently a well-aimed jet of water is enough to set off the thing. It’s not enough to completely destroy his arm, but it does blow the limb off, massively damaging it in the process.
As he’d noticed previously, there’s still minimal damage to the tunnel itself, but from the sudden increase in the sweet stench of blood, it’s clear that it does affect sentient beings, and Joestar is no exception.
“Are you all right, Jojo?” Not a voice he recognizes, more posh than that fool Speedwagon, and yet, for all this time, he hadn’t allowed himself to be drawn into the conversation.
“Yes—but be careful, he can reattach limbs—,” Joestar begins, which gives Dio an idea even as his blood vessels reach out to begin the process of reattachment and regeneration.
Not one, he’s sure, the Joestar will enjoy, but the vampire certainly enjoys that thought. “You’re not here because of that power, are you? What would happen if I took a part of your body to anchor me in this time?”
It’s a very good question, and one, apparently, the Joestar hadn’t bothered to consider. “Uh. If it’s all the same to you, I’m not keen on finding out?”
Dio grins, sharp and menacing, and the Joestar continues being frozen for one second before he decides discretion is the better part of valor. He runs, scooping up his animal-creature companion.
In the end, he doesn’t even have to take Joestar’s, if he can’t catch him before the rabbit ‘gets bored’. It’d just be much more poetic if he does—and with the blood loss and steadily increasing loud movement, he can’t play hide and seek forever.
No one tell Hol Horse Dio’s back
He’d just have a panic attack
(it is…a pain to be carrying other people’s PTSD too)
Usual disclaimer about posting before beta's looked at it.
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Dio is, unfortunately, a clever vampire.
Word Count: 1239
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
Dio is very personally familiar with that particular scream of moral outrage. So he was right. This Joestar might play at being aloof, some kind of scoundrel, but it was no more than an act. Of course, no matter how far removed, Jonathan would have ensured his overactive sense of morality remained intact.
Unfortunately, the yell of righteous fury cuts out all too quickly. Dio can’t physically see the cause, but he knows what it means all the same. He hadn’t completely managed to crush his other attacker to little pieces as thoroughly as he’d intended. How very…unfortunate.
“Too bad he’ll just regrow that arm. Little too quick for a big clumsy vampire like you, huh?” It’s easy to read the false bravado in those words. Dio had had a lot of practice as a child, before he’d perfected his false charisma, his fake mask of friendship.
Many people, Dio’s noted, tend to make the same mistakes when it comes to trying to understand each other. Particularly when they’re trying to understand if they’ve been insulted. They try to understand each and every word, get tripped up if there are words they don’t know. The only thing one really needs to know is the tone. Joestar’s definitely mocking, and he’s not as clever as he believes himself to be, either, because he’s given something away. Before, Dio had merely believed that his invisible attackers possibly weren’t human. Now, though, now that Joestar is implying it, he all but has proof. What’s more, he’s fairly certain, given the disgust in the tone as Joestar says the word ‘vampire’, that they’re not vampires, either, and they’re certainly more talkative than the average zombie, which can only mean they’re something new. Something, even, that can still channel Hamon like a human, despite the fact that this Joestar had to have discarded something of Jojo’s lauded humanity to obtain that kind of power.
“You might believe yourself quick for a human, and you might be invisible to my eyes, but you’re now bleeding, as is your associate.” He might not drink blood, like the trite stories in the penny dreadfuls, aside from theatricalities designed to intimidate. But he certainly has better senses than he did as a human, and where there’s a heart beating there’s a lifeform to drain of its vitality. He was right about the other one, too—it might be leaking some kind of vital fluid, but it doesn’t smell like blood. “Tell me, how do you plan to escape me this time?”
He savors the silent, frozen atmosphere for a few seconds before Joestar offers an answer hesitantly just as Dio comes to the same conclusion. “Hamon?”
Ah, but there’s something else there, something he’d overlooked. “Yes, but you’re mortal, and wounded. Quite badly, judging by the amount of blood. Tsk, you should have known better, punching ice that thick.” The condescending disapproval is all a show, but if life is a play, as Shakespeare had suggested, then there’s only room for one star of the show. By the sound of a fist clenching, it’s working exactly as intended. “And hamon requires good health, does it not? Jonathan’s lackeys made a fuss about his breathing. If I wait, your vaunted Ripple will fail. I have all the time in the world.”
The gasp means he’s onto something there. He hadn’t been meant to hear that, either—only a fool gives away his vulnerabilities in an encounter—but this body was capable of so very many things his human self wouldn’t have managed. Along those lines, he needn’t be told that the statement was a slight gamble on Dio’s part, since he had evidence his attackers weren’t fully human, at the very minimum. Probably at least partly human, given the use of Hamon. How fascinating, that the world is bigger than he’d imagined. Of course, it could prove to be deadly, but there are also opportunities, if he but tries. “Or—no. You had some sort of pathetic threat. What was it again? Something about a rabbit?”
“Do you want to hear about the humiliating defeats by the Joestar family, including becoming dust on the wind? The fact that you’re just an echo of the past, brought here by a rabbit who will discard you the instant you cease to be useful to her?” By the sound of it, while this Joestar wants to gloat, he also doesn’t want to give Dio any more hints than he’s already inadvertently given (if he’s even aware of his mistakes).
He’s probably, he supposes, supposed to feel some sort of anxiety that he might not be the ‘real’ Dio. A crisis of identity, or something. “If he died, then he’s useless to me other than as a stepping stone to my future victory. I don’t think you’d care to tell me where he went wrong. You’re terrified I’ll learn from his defeat. You’re shaking where you stand—or is that the blood loss?”
“I just can’t wait to kick your ass,” Joestar snarls, doing absolutely nothing to prove Dio wrong.
Dio smirks, opening his arms wide, dropping the bloody block of ice to increase the false impression of vulnerability. “Oh? Show me your bravery, Joestar. Do you think you’re fast enough to escape the laser eyes? Exert yourself harder, with your wound. Bleed more. Let me hear your heart beat, and you’ll be as good as visible.”
It seems he had, in fact, underestimated the animal-creature with Joestar. Joestar, like Jonathan, could be drawn in by words, though presumably even he had his breaking points. The creature, though, was like that accursed Speedwagon, focused entirely on eliminating him, because he had somehow planted another of those ghost lotuses without the blond vampire noticing, and apparently a well-aimed jet of water is enough to set off the thing. It’s not enough to completely destroy his arm, but it does blow the limb off, massively damaging it in the process.
As he’d noticed previously, there’s still minimal damage to the tunnel itself, but from the sudden increase in the sweet stench of blood, it’s clear that it does affect sentient beings, and Joestar is no exception.
“Are you all right, Jojo?” Not a voice he recognizes, more posh than that fool Speedwagon, and yet, for all this time, he hadn’t allowed himself to be drawn into the conversation.
“Yes—but be careful, he can reattach limbs—,” Joestar begins, which gives Dio an idea even as his blood vessels reach out to begin the process of reattachment and regeneration.
Not one, he’s sure, the Joestar will enjoy, but the vampire certainly enjoys that thought. “You’re not here because of that power, are you? What would happen if I took a part of your body to anchor me in this time?”
It’s a very good question, and one, apparently, the Joestar hadn’t bothered to consider. “Uh. If it’s all the same to you, I’m not keen on finding out?”
Dio grins, sharp and menacing, and the Joestar continues being frozen for one second before he decides discretion is the better part of valor. He runs, scooping up his animal-creature companion.
In the end, he doesn’t even have to take Joestar’s, if he can’t catch him before the rabbit ‘gets bored’. It’d just be much more poetic if he does—and with the blood loss and steadily increasing loud movement, he can’t play hide and seek forever.
