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madimpossibledreamerI really have to apologize to Beta-senpai about all these late chapters.
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Dio stalks the wounded Stands.
Word Count: 1192
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
It quickly becomes obvious that Dio wasn’t just boasting, before. He’s actually following the pair at a fairly steady rate. Uncomfortable, intrusive thoughts comparing himself to a dog—Jonathan’s beloved Danny, for example—appear before he forcefully removes them. He’s not some tame mutt, he’s something better than human. Still, he knows what it’s like, now, hot on the scent, following prey. No need to rely on his eyes, even, to follow the blood trail. By smell alone he can just keep moving, without stopping once. He could easily keep up and catch the man on the run, but he holds back, wary of tricks. This Joestar has proven he’s not above traps or dirty fighting. He has none of that gentleman’s sense of honor Jonathan had.
The pace at which Joestar is moving is actually vaguely impressive. He’s no stranger to fighting, then, nor to being actually wounded during battle. Not like Jonathan, who had been so surprised, the first time Dio had beat him in the ring. It hadn’t been just bravado, then, that had led to his bragging words—and, worse, he was the calculating sort.
Of course, that meant they had more than a few things in common, as he’d already pointed out. But just as that made Dio more predictable to Joestar, that also meant the reverse. When the vampire thinks about how he’d try to stop himself, Joestar’s advantage lessens. Of course, he doesn’t know how Joestar’s power works, and the man has at least heard family tales about the vampire and his powers, but even if the human has a slight advantage in that regard, it appears he’s still wary, uncertain of victory. Fearful, even. Dio grins, fangs glinting in the light.
They’re both circling each other, careful of what the other can do. Both wary of taking the first shot and making themselves vulnerable as they do so. But if he has to exercise caution, let him turn his prey’s emotion to terror.
“Wrrrryyyyy…” He lets out the hiss, long and low, and feels satisfaction as it echoes eerily through the tunnels. If he concentrates, he can even feel the heartbeat pick up through the ground. All these neat little perks he hadn’t had time to experiment with. His smirk grows further. “You do realize running away is useless, Joestar?”
Joestar is quick enough with a reply, even as his step falters for but a split second. “On the contrary, it’s a family tradition!” He’s figured out it’s no use trying to disguise his position by staying quiet, it seems. Without the senses of a vampire, Dio wouldn’t have been able to notice the difference in his stride, though to be fair without the senses of a vampire he very possibly wouldn’t have been able to hear it in the first place, and probably would have died centuries ago.
Admirable. He probably knows his heart rate picking up is obvious to them both, and yet his voice is perfectly chipper and steady. Interesting. He might not realize he’s giving so much away.
For instance, that he’s perfectly familiar with fighting, as it were, outside his own weight class. Part of his bravery is solely due to familiarity. Secondly, that the combination of hedging his eyes and brash confidence is due to this combination. Like Dio, he’s used to doing whatever he has to do to achieve the victory he requires because he has to. He can’t play the gentleman like Jonathan had.
Also, as Dio had begun to suspect, Joestar was not Jonathan’s son, not even his adopted son. Jonathan would have been more patient with his son than Jorge, even one that didn’t share his blood, but his son would likely have ended up some sort of gentleman, even if a tarnished one. Perhaps Jojo would view retreating as a viable option and not cowardly, but he certainly wouldn’t view it as any sort of tradition.
He would have to dampen any feelings of disappointment that his feud with Jonathan might never reach a satisfactory ending.
He cocks his head slightly as the footsteps cease. “And yet, you’ve given up on it so easily. Hiding won’t save you any more than running away.”
“We’ll see, Dio. Bring it on.” Again, that confidence can only mean Joestar has something up his sleeve.
Dio approaches, slow and deliberate, footsteps echoing, again, with the menace of his approach. Perhaps it’s likewise obvious to Joestar that he’s taking care, but as with many things, it’s how it’s framed. Even if Joestar knows the truth, he still might be susceptible to intimidation.
At least that approach allows him to notice and knock back the grenade before it explodes.
He’d heard of them, of course. The appearance is certainly different than the drawings he’d seen, but they’d been used in the American Civil War. Then again, one would expect all technology to have modernized since then. He’s only fully sure when the explosion knocks him off his feet, blowing him back into the wall. What would it have done to the human and his friend?
He doesn’t hear the heartbeats in the same corner anymore. A glance says there’s no bodies, at least none that are visible. The cracking, rumbling sound says that unlike the lotus mines, this explosion has actually done some damage to their surroundings. He reaches down to grab a broken boulder and chuck it one-handed in the direction he’d heard them, but it doesn’t hit anything invisible, either. They’d vanished into thin air, which was clearly impossible. Even if Joestar and his friend had some sort of technique that made them invisible, that doesn’t mean that they’re not flesh and blood—they were; the blood is proof of that. And if they’d had the power to teleport or whatever it was all along, surely they would have chosen to do so before now. Even if it was a matter of trying to keep their cards close to their chest and not tip their hand, Joestar and the creature could have escaped the wounds they’d previously received that way.
Calm. If teleportation is impossible, then they must still be somewhere nearby. And—yes, the blood trail is continuous. How he hadn’t perceived the movement is a different question, but it’s possible he was too distracted by trying to shield himself from the explosion. As he moves, he feels a distinct crack and looks down to see bone poking through the skin. That’s annoying. He pops it back in, gritting his fangs as he does so, and sees some blood floating down, following it with his eyes. Ah, some fish. Not preferred, but it’s something. He hobbles over to the dying animals, holding a hand against his thigh to prevent the bone from poking out again, and sticks his fingers right into the fish. As expected, it doesn’t do all that much, but it is enough to heal him enough to follow the trail of blood once more. At least if he has the sense Dio believes, he won’t try the same trick again, since it was dangerous enough to be so close to the explosion himself.
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Dio stalks the wounded Stands.
Word Count: 1192
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
It quickly becomes obvious that Dio wasn’t just boasting, before. He’s actually following the pair at a fairly steady rate. Uncomfortable, intrusive thoughts comparing himself to a dog—Jonathan’s beloved Danny, for example—appear before he forcefully removes them. He’s not some tame mutt, he’s something better than human. Still, he knows what it’s like, now, hot on the scent, following prey. No need to rely on his eyes, even, to follow the blood trail. By smell alone he can just keep moving, without stopping once. He could easily keep up and catch the man on the run, but he holds back, wary of tricks. This Joestar has proven he’s not above traps or dirty fighting. He has none of that gentleman’s sense of honor Jonathan had.
The pace at which Joestar is moving is actually vaguely impressive. He’s no stranger to fighting, then, nor to being actually wounded during battle. Not like Jonathan, who had been so surprised, the first time Dio had beat him in the ring. It hadn’t been just bravado, then, that had led to his bragging words—and, worse, he was the calculating sort.
Of course, that meant they had more than a few things in common, as he’d already pointed out. But just as that made Dio more predictable to Joestar, that also meant the reverse. When the vampire thinks about how he’d try to stop himself, Joestar’s advantage lessens. Of course, he doesn’t know how Joestar’s power works, and the man has at least heard family tales about the vampire and his powers, but even if the human has a slight advantage in that regard, it appears he’s still wary, uncertain of victory. Fearful, even. Dio grins, fangs glinting in the light.
They’re both circling each other, careful of what the other can do. Both wary of taking the first shot and making themselves vulnerable as they do so. But if he has to exercise caution, let him turn his prey’s emotion to terror.
“Wrrrryyyyy…” He lets out the hiss, long and low, and feels satisfaction as it echoes eerily through the tunnels. If he concentrates, he can even feel the heartbeat pick up through the ground. All these neat little perks he hadn’t had time to experiment with. His smirk grows further. “You do realize running away is useless, Joestar?”
Joestar is quick enough with a reply, even as his step falters for but a split second. “On the contrary, it’s a family tradition!” He’s figured out it’s no use trying to disguise his position by staying quiet, it seems. Without the senses of a vampire, Dio wouldn’t have been able to notice the difference in his stride, though to be fair without the senses of a vampire he very possibly wouldn’t have been able to hear it in the first place, and probably would have died centuries ago.
Admirable. He probably knows his heart rate picking up is obvious to them both, and yet his voice is perfectly chipper and steady. Interesting. He might not realize he’s giving so much away.
For instance, that he’s perfectly familiar with fighting, as it were, outside his own weight class. Part of his bravery is solely due to familiarity. Secondly, that the combination of hedging his eyes and brash confidence is due to this combination. Like Dio, he’s used to doing whatever he has to do to achieve the victory he requires because he has to. He can’t play the gentleman like Jonathan had.
Also, as Dio had begun to suspect, Joestar was not Jonathan’s son, not even his adopted son. Jonathan would have been more patient with his son than Jorge, even one that didn’t share his blood, but his son would likely have ended up some sort of gentleman, even if a tarnished one. Perhaps Jojo would view retreating as a viable option and not cowardly, but he certainly wouldn’t view it as any sort of tradition.
He would have to dampen any feelings of disappointment that his feud with Jonathan might never reach a satisfactory ending.
He cocks his head slightly as the footsteps cease. “And yet, you’ve given up on it so easily. Hiding won’t save you any more than running away.”
“We’ll see, Dio. Bring it on.” Again, that confidence can only mean Joestar has something up his sleeve.
Dio approaches, slow and deliberate, footsteps echoing, again, with the menace of his approach. Perhaps it’s likewise obvious to Joestar that he’s taking care, but as with many things, it’s how it’s framed. Even if Joestar knows the truth, he still might be susceptible to intimidation.
At least that approach allows him to notice and knock back the grenade before it explodes.
He’d heard of them, of course. The appearance is certainly different than the drawings he’d seen, but they’d been used in the American Civil War. Then again, one would expect all technology to have modernized since then. He’s only fully sure when the explosion knocks him off his feet, blowing him back into the wall. What would it have done to the human and his friend?
He doesn’t hear the heartbeats in the same corner anymore. A glance says there’s no bodies, at least none that are visible. The cracking, rumbling sound says that unlike the lotus mines, this explosion has actually done some damage to their surroundings. He reaches down to grab a broken boulder and chuck it one-handed in the direction he’d heard them, but it doesn’t hit anything invisible, either. They’d vanished into thin air, which was clearly impossible. Even if Joestar and his friend had some sort of technique that made them invisible, that doesn’t mean that they’re not flesh and blood—they were; the blood is proof of that. And if they’d had the power to teleport or whatever it was all along, surely they would have chosen to do so before now. Even if it was a matter of trying to keep their cards close to their chest and not tip their hand, Joestar and the creature could have escaped the wounds they’d previously received that way.
Calm. If teleportation is impossible, then they must still be somewhere nearby. And—yes, the blood trail is continuous. How he hadn’t perceived the movement is a different question, but it’s possible he was too distracted by trying to shield himself from the explosion. As he moves, he feels a distinct crack and looks down to see bone poking through the skin. That’s annoying. He pops it back in, gritting his fangs as he does so, and sees some blood floating down, following it with his eyes. Ah, some fish. Not preferred, but it’s something. He hobbles over to the dying animals, holding a hand against his thigh to prevent the bone from poking out again, and sticks his fingers right into the fish. As expected, it doesn’t do all that much, but it is enough to heal him enough to follow the trail of blood once more. At least if he has the sense Dio believes, he won’t try the same trick again, since it was dangerous enough to be so close to the explosion himself.
