Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Darling tries to put her plan in action, but it's not all smooth sailing.
Word Count: 1205
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
Maybe it’s just because he’s intrigued by what she’d going to go, although he shouldn’t be. If her plan doesn’t work, it’s not of interest, and if it does work, it’d be bad for him, so why does she get the feeling that he actually wants to see what she does?
And then she skids a little as she speeds past another one of the gigantic axe blades buried, this time, in the stone, cracking ominously in a way that has her desperately hoping they’re not merely a single layer of stone away from another open room beneath them, only to come face-to-face with the Lord of Death.
Instantly, he proves himself more intelligent than some of the other Lords of Death they’ve fought, like Zipacna and Cabrakan, because he multitasks, stabbing the tip of the spear right at her stomach at the same time as he gloats. “What do they call it in English? Peek-a-boo? Well, here I am.” It’s be ludicrous if it wasn’t terrifying, the way he looms over her.
If not for Whisper’s upset screech, she’d be too frozen to move out of the way, but instead she throws herself forward, barely managing to avoid impaling herself as she dives under his legs to get behind him, slashing his leg as she does so. Whisper follows that up with a raptor’s swoop, barely brushing the enemy with his feathers. It’s enough, even if the feeling is still somehow muted.
“Now that’s more like it,” he roars in delight, turning to look at her as she runs, but she doesn’t stop to look behind her as she goes, straight to the other end of the room. She doesn’t hear him lumbering behind her, but she hadn’t heard or seen him move into place next to the buried axe blade, either. For a tall, heavy figure he moved silently enough when needed. And how had he managed to get so close, without the Captain or Mr. Brown yelling out a warning or providing covering fire?
She’s panting, more from the fear than the exertion. It can’t be—did he already manage to take out her friends without her even noticing? Or—no, she can’t think that, she won’t, she refuses. The world is already full of terrible things and pain, she knows that all too well, but it can’t do this. This is a step too far.
“That’s right, this way! I’m a Hamon Warrior. You want a good fight, I’ll give you one!” Mr. Brown calls out, taunting, and she sobs a little in relief. At least he’s alive.
“Darling!” a voice calls, clear concern breaking through the usual stoic tone. Von Stroheim. She’s okay, too. But Darling doesn’t have long to rejoice, because she suddenly feels a sharp pain in her foot and stumbles a little in her headlong dash.
It’s not the first time. Years of shoes falling apart and hanging out in abandoned buildings that always, always felt more welcoming than whatever house or flat they tried to place her with had her cutting her feet on more than one occasion, but it’s not usually this sharp, and the spurt of blood tells her she’s definitely bleeding more than on those occasions, too.
Whisper slams into her back, wrapping around tight as a boa constrictor looks on TV, and flaps his wings frantically, barely managing to slow down her momentum enough, with the addition of the wounded foot, that she stops likely in the single-digit centimeters away from a long blade that flicks out from the floor, swinging an arc that shows Darling her own startled, frightened face before completing its arc and slipping back into the crack between stone blocks. The tips of a few feathers drift to the floor as she stands in silent shock before realizing this is far from over, no matter how much this whole House is making her just want to climb up somewhere, a high nest, and curl up somewhere that feels safe. It’s not even close to safe, not yet, and it probably won’t be until after they get out of Xibalba, and even after that, there’s still a man who doesn’t care who gets hurt in his quest for ultimate power.
She turns around, wincing at her foot as she does, and sees Mr. Brown, shooting off arrow after arrow, and the Captain, shoulder to shoulder with her Stand as they squeeze off shot after shot. Mr. Brown occasionally yells, pausing his firing as he does so, but he’s slowing that down in favor of the arrows.
The Lord of Death appears to be avoiding most shots, though from the circular holes and trails of blood a few of the bullets found their mark. But they’re definitely more distracting than the taunts.
The twitching, too, would be somewhat funny if not for the situation, Buluc Chabtan being distracted from his hunt of her briefly seemingly against his will before he wrenches his head back, forcing himself to only target one enemy. The wound on his legs, maybe, plus Whisper’s power? It doesn’t last for long, maybe because he’s a deity, maybe because he’s simply that single-minded, but either way it just might be enough, particularly since he seems to be in a generally open area with no knocked down blades in the way, and he’s a pretty good target at the moment. Particularly if he can be distracted into not dodging out of the way for this one.
Unfortunately, her inability to give specific instruction also means that the results when it comes to a ‘maze’ are less than ideal, but as her teacher says, she’ll just have to ‘make do’. Or rather, Mr. Brown will have to, as she has only her knife and it’s not long or balanced enough for throwing.
“Shoot, Mr. Brown,” she yells, pointing dramatically past the Lord of Death at the axe blade, and hoping he gets it. Judging by his smirk and the way he instantly adjusts his aim toward one of the blades on the ground, she has good reason to hope.
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Darling tries to put her plan in action, but it's not all smooth sailing.
Word Count: 1205
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
The Captain and Mr. Brown seem to understand intuitively that Darling can’t exactly explain her plan with the enemy listening in. They’re proceeding from her very vague request and erring on the side of knocking down or over any of the blades they can while dodging the ones they can’t, like the ones moving too quickly. Meanwhile, the Lord of Death is just…intrigued. He’s wholly unconcerned by the danger. And sure, that might be just ego, proving to be his downfall just like with all the denizens of Xibalba before him, but something about this feels completely different. Maybe part of it is the fact that, well. He’s not a schemer, not a planner like several of the other enemies they’ve faced, but he’s not unintelligent. It’s clear he’s watching and learning their strengths and weaknesses, but he’s hardly just watching. Darling had been confident she could run circles around Buluc Chabtan, but her confidence is waning, because rather than stay frustrated, he’s gotten calm, and that’s unnerving. It means he’s not upset by the way things are going, which also means maybe they’re not as safe as she’d assumed.
Maybe it’s just because he’s intrigued by what she’d going to go, although he shouldn’t be. If her plan doesn’t work, it’s not of interest, and if it does work, it’d be bad for him, so why does she get the feeling that he actually wants to see what she does?
And then she skids a little as she speeds past another one of the gigantic axe blades buried, this time, in the stone, cracking ominously in a way that has her desperately hoping they’re not merely a single layer of stone away from another open room beneath them, only to come face-to-face with the Lord of Death.
Instantly, he proves himself more intelligent than some of the other Lords of Death they’ve fought, like Zipacna and Cabrakan, because he multitasks, stabbing the tip of the spear right at her stomach at the same time as he gloats. “What do they call it in English? Peek-a-boo? Well, here I am.” It’s be ludicrous if it wasn’t terrifying, the way he looms over her.
If not for Whisper’s upset screech, she’d be too frozen to move out of the way, but instead she throws herself forward, barely managing to avoid impaling herself as she dives under his legs to get behind him, slashing his leg as she does so. Whisper follows that up with a raptor’s swoop, barely brushing the enemy with his feathers. It’s enough, even if the feeling is still somehow muted.
“Now that’s more like it,” he roars in delight, turning to look at her as she runs, but she doesn’t stop to look behind her as she goes, straight to the other end of the room. She doesn’t hear him lumbering behind her, but she hadn’t heard or seen him move into place next to the buried axe blade, either. For a tall, heavy figure he moved silently enough when needed. And how had he managed to get so close, without the Captain or Mr. Brown yelling out a warning or providing covering fire?
She’s panting, more from the fear than the exertion. It can’t be—did he already manage to take out her friends without her even noticing? Or—no, she can’t think that, she won’t, she refuses. The world is already full of terrible things and pain, she knows that all too well, but it can’t do this. This is a step too far.
“That’s right, this way! I’m a Hamon Warrior. You want a good fight, I’ll give you one!” Mr. Brown calls out, taunting, and she sobs a little in relief. At least he’s alive.
“Darling!” a voice calls, clear concern breaking through the usual stoic tone. Von Stroheim. She’s okay, too. But Darling doesn’t have long to rejoice, because she suddenly feels a sharp pain in her foot and stumbles a little in her headlong dash.
It’s not the first time. Years of shoes falling apart and hanging out in abandoned buildings that always, always felt more welcoming than whatever house or flat they tried to place her with had her cutting her feet on more than one occasion, but it’s not usually this sharp, and the spurt of blood tells her she’s definitely bleeding more than on those occasions, too.
Whisper slams into her back, wrapping around tight as a boa constrictor looks on TV, and flaps his wings frantically, barely managing to slow down her momentum enough, with the addition of the wounded foot, that she stops likely in the single-digit centimeters away from a long blade that flicks out from the floor, swinging an arc that shows Darling her own startled, frightened face before completing its arc and slipping back into the crack between stone blocks. The tips of a few feathers drift to the floor as she stands in silent shock before realizing this is far from over, no matter how much this whole House is making her just want to climb up somewhere, a high nest, and curl up somewhere that feels safe. It’s not even close to safe, not yet, and it probably won’t be until after they get out of Xibalba, and even after that, there’s still a man who doesn’t care who gets hurt in his quest for ultimate power.
She turns around, wincing at her foot as she does, and sees Mr. Brown, shooting off arrow after arrow, and the Captain, shoulder to shoulder with her Stand as they squeeze off shot after shot. Mr. Brown occasionally yells, pausing his firing as he does so, but he’s slowing that down in favor of the arrows.
The Lord of Death appears to be avoiding most shots, though from the circular holes and trails of blood a few of the bullets found their mark. But they’re definitely more distracting than the taunts.
The twitching, too, would be somewhat funny if not for the situation, Buluc Chabtan being distracted from his hunt of her briefly seemingly against his will before he wrenches his head back, forcing himself to only target one enemy. The wound on his legs, maybe, plus Whisper’s power? It doesn’t last for long, maybe because he’s a deity, maybe because he’s simply that single-minded, but either way it just might be enough, particularly since he seems to be in a generally open area with no knocked down blades in the way, and he’s a pretty good target at the moment. Particularly if he can be distracted into not dodging out of the way for this one.
Unfortunately, her inability to give specific instruction also means that the results when it comes to a ‘maze’ are less than ideal, but as her teacher says, she’ll just have to ‘make do’. Or rather, Mr. Brown will have to, as she has only her knife and it’s not long or balanced enough for throwing.
“Shoot, Mr. Brown,” she yells, pointing dramatically past the Lord of Death at the axe blade, and hoping he gets it. Judging by his smirk and the way he instantly adjusts his aim toward one of the blades on the ground, she has good reason to hope.