madimpossibledreamer: Jiraiya|Yosuke jumping and using a throwing star (Default)
[personal profile] madimpossibledreamer

Interestingly the benches thing would be a parallel to the stories about Tukákame, if he’d managed to get them to the ranch.  (They’re slightly different, but there’s definite parallels.)  Since that didn’t happen, though, it’s not too repetitive.
the song is weirdly appropriate and by that I mean yikes as we were discussing certain really really rich folks and their buying decisions.  that's too spooky for me, i'm out

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: They meet the Lords of Death.

Word Count: 1038
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS

 

        Darling yelps a little as the shape comes out of the fog.  Fortunately, Whisper gets the need for being quiet and wraps around her mouth, not too close to make her panic or feel like she’s choking, just enough to quiet down the sound even more than the fog.  It’s a good thing, though, because it’s just Mr. Brown, smiling at them.  Even at the Captain, who was restless and worried even if she’s trying to pretend that she’s not.
        He pats the Captain on the shoulder.  “It doesn’t get very narrow at all.  Definitely not like some caves.  You’ll both be able to get through, no problem.  I think it’s more mind-games.  Trying to get us to second-guess ourselves, maybe even turn back and choose another road at the crossroads.  Miss Violetta, what does our next stop look like?”
        He’s looking at her like she knows what she’s doing.  Like she’s important.  It helps boost her confidence, makes her feel like she’s doing some good.  But then, they’d done that the first time they worked together, too.  “The next part is the actual court of Xibalba, with the Lords.  It won’t be the end.  They might try to put us through further trials, and I don’t know how all of this was connected to the actual place we used to be, mostly because neither Whisper nor the black jaguar know.”
        “So…it looks like a usual monarchy-type setup?  Thrones, benches for visitors?” Mr. Brown asks, and, well.  That could be a guess, but it’s specific enough especially with that tone Darling guesses it isn’t.
        “It’s just ahead?” she guesses, and he nods.
        “I’m pretty sure.  Even heard someone call for me to enter, but I didn’t want to go on without you, so I hurried back.”  That’s probably a good thing, really, because she needs to warn them about the next part.
        “They’ll keep trying to trick you, so watch what you say and be ready for that, but also try not to tick them off.  Two things in specific to watch for—some of them will be mannequins instead of people, and they’re trying to trick you into addressing them.  I don’t think they’ll do anything but try to humiliate you with that, but watch for that anyway.  They’ll also try to get you to sit down on the benches. Those will actually cook your bum, so don’t sit.”  She flushes upon realizing what she said, but she doesn’t get scolded for her choice of words, so decides not to draw too much attention to it.  “Trials beyond that might include vampire bats, hail, darkness, non-friendly jaguars, razors, heat, and/or a ballgame with a bladed ball.”
        “Some of those would certainly be more troublesome than others,” the Captain begins, and then stops herself voluntarily.  “Of course, it would perhaps be best to refrain from discussing which, exactly, if we’re being listened to and watched.  They’d be likely to choose those if they knew, wouldn’t they?”
        “That does sound like something they’d do.  That’s probably why we’re being followed,” Darling realizes, agreeing.
        “I hate mindgames,” Mr. Brown states confidently, but he offers a hand to the Captain, who takes it, anyway.

        His description, and the memories relayed to her through Whisper, were apparently very accurate.  She had to squeeze a little, but only a little.  The Captain has more trouble, which makes her grumble and Mr. Brown laugh, but then, she’s got all sorts of things on her, like the binoculars and weapons and things, so she’s not exactly able to get into places like a thief.  She suspects some of the German words used are curses.  She tries not to remember them, though.  It might be funny for her, but Captain von Stroheim would take it personally and probably feel like she failed somehow, even though she doesn’t seem like the type to be a mom and would still be better than any of the adoptive parents Darling’s been placed with, which is a depressing thought.  It’s probably not the dead city, but she’s more than happy to blame the dead city for thinking things she’s better off not thinking.
        More to the point, though, she sees the various thrones and the benches before them.  She can’t tell the difference, and neither can Whisper, though he starts telling her about the various Lords that could be here, terrible demons of pestilence and earthquakes and strength and fire.
        They talk, but apparently they have some knowledge of ventriloquism because some of them pretend they’re mannequins and speak through mannequins that look exactly like them.
        “Will you not greet the Lords of Death, after we have offered you such hospitality?”  She glances at the speaker but doesn’t spend too much time staring.  She doesn’t want to make it too obvious that she’s trying to figure out if they’re real or not.  Of course, if it’s just a matter of embarrassment she won’t really care about that too much, but if it’s deadly or ‘embarrassment’ means getting hurt or something, that’s a bigger problem.
        “Our apologies, Lords,” Mr. Brown speaks up, nudging Darling slightly as he bows, and—oh!  She’d been missing the obvious.
        It’s not clear if the mannequins are just registering as ‘not alive at all’, or if the Lords of Death had been using some kind of magic to make them appear alive, but either way, apparently his Ripple training let him feel which were the correct Lords and which weren’t.  It’s possible he’s reading it wrong, but she’ll put her trust in him here, too, and follow his lead.  The Captain is already doing it without hesitation.
        “You must be here for a reason.  Come, sit and tell us what you would wish from us.  The Lords of Death are generous and magnanimous, after all.”  The voice is reasonable enough.  She might even obey if she didn’t know better.  She’s also fairly sure that they could be described as neither generous nor magnanimous, but authority figures like to exaggerate things like that.
        “We wouldn’t dare sit in the presence of such grand lords,” the Captain responds and kneels—clever—and they drop following her example.
        “You’re no fun.” A rough, boisterous laugh echoes through the darkness.

 

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