Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 284

[madimpossibledreamer]

I could never have predicted, starting out writing this series, that one day I’d be writing a Mayan football segment. Of course, I think there was a brief baseball segment in Stone Ocean? Still unexpected. That’s Jojo’s for you.
But seriously. Go watch Shaolin Soccer. It is a masterpiece and better than anything I could hope to write for this arc.

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Let the game begin.
Word Count: 1059
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS

 

         Lord Kisin laughs, actually laughs, at the sight of Balam’s army filling up the stands. The rest of the Lords of Death look nonchalant, but then, even if they’re upset, they probably wouldn’t actually show it. And then he whistles, sharp and ear-piercing. How he’s managing to whistle like a human when he has an owl’s head is a little hard to determine. As if in answer to a preexisting signal, a bunch of dogs run out, some leaping up while others scrabble at the stones or look for easier ways up to the opposite set of audience stands. Balam’s jaguars didn’t intimidate at all—
         But then, maybe they weren’t meant to do that in the first place. If the jaguars hadn’t shown up, and the dogs had, that would’ve been just as intimidating, but the other way around. And it’s impossible to tell who’d made the move and who’d made the countermove and who was anticipating who unless she asks, which she’s not going to do.
         “It’s not a good match unless there’s an audience, anyway,” Zipacna insists, accepting the drink from Lord Akan and chugging it.
         It only makes Darling more nervous, but it does seem to fire up the Captain, who is almost certainly more useful, so maybe it’s a useful trade-off? She turns to them immediately and declares with absolute certainty, “Germany is not losing to Mexico.”
         “I’m from America. I think ‘football’ means a ball you throw around.” Darling isn’t particularly into sports, but even she shivers at this one. She’s almost certain Mr. Brown is teasing, and it might be helpful. If they get von Stroheim sufficiently furious, she might even be energetic enough to win this all on her own. Maybe. If they’re lucky.
         She raises her hand tentatively. “I’m from the UK?” she asks. It’s not like it even particularly matters—well, not to anyone else, in the end—but Captain Beefheart seems to find it really important, so she wants to make sure she understands.
         Fortunately, beyond the huff of frustration and the roll of the eyes, she doesn’t particularly seem mad at them. “You two don’t even watch sports, do you? Under certain criteria, athletes can compete for countries other than the one of their origin, and right now, you’re under a German captain, which means you are playing for Germany.” She whirls and points a finger at the black jaguar and the cat-lady, who...well. They’re not outright laughing, but they seem amused. “That goes for the two of you, as well.”
         “Understood,” Balam acknowledges, crouching down and getting ready to pounce.
         “For the glory of German!” Awilix cheers, stretching in the lazy, unenthusiastic way particularly bored or tired cats do. It doesn’t look like she’s particularly enthusiastic, although her tone at least sounds vaguely energetic.
         The Captain sighs and shakes her head. “I suppose it’ll do.”
         “You’re ready, I hope. It’s not particularly complex when it comes to rules.” Tohil looks vaguely bored.
         “Oh, enough of this.” One of Cabrakan’s eyes is swelling shut with what look like claw marks. He doesn’t appear too upset about it, though. In one quick move, he smacks the rubber ball toward the center with his tail—but it’s closer to the side where they’re standing. He’d probably argue that it was an accident, but is he trying to cheat already? Then again, from what they’d seen so far, both brothers were a little sloppy and not chessmasters or anything like that, so maybe she’s overthinking this. “Too much yapping, not enough action. Begin the game already.”
         The Captain huffs like it’s an affront to her sensibilities, but reacts instantly when all the Lords of Death (aside from Lord Kisin, who seems to be sitting back and watching the chaos with amusement) immediately start toward the ball, running and calling out Panzermensch. Balam’s on her heels, quiet but intensely focused on the game.
         Mr. Brown shrugs at Darling, grinning. “Let’s do our best!”
         That’s something she can get behind. Because if the criteria is ‘her being a good player’, the Captain’s going to be disappointed. Well. She already might be, anyway, but it’s not like she’d gotten to hand-pick her team, either.
         Von Stroheim’s voice is slightly tinny as it echoes out of Panzermensch, but at least it’s loud enough to ring across the battlefield. Er. Football field? What is this game called, anyway? She doesn’t even pause running as she calls out her Stand. “Robin, you’re the goalie. Darling, you back him up. Whisper should be useful there. Lady Awilix, you’re a midfielder. Try to stay around the middle and take part in defense or offense. Lord Balam, back her up.” Darling has to admit, passing to her own Stand would be significantly easier than most games she’s been forced to play in school, and she can guess why she’d been chosen to help out. If Whisper flew right in front of the goal at the right time, opening his wings wide, he could be a great help.
         Being ordered around is probably a new experience for Balam, but he listens without arguing, dropping back to stay around the middle. Awilix tosses off what might be intended as a lazy salute, following suit, if blocking the other side.
         “Giving away your plan? Guess that’s a choice.” Zipacna rumbles, deep and unimpressed, moving to intercept.
         “It’s better than not having one to begin with,” the Captain fires right back.
         And yeah, that’s actually a really good point, and one that gives Darling some actual hope that she might not be quite as much of a liability in this game as she’d thought. Because this might not be exactly football, or soccer to Mr. Brown, but it is a team sport. Buluc Chabtan’d had that big speech about how the others had pride, which held them back and probably interfered with their teamwork capabilities. They might be big and strong and the only reason they’d gotten through some of the Houses was, practically, by avoiding them entirely, but strength and speed might not be everything. Even if the Lords of Death have their own plans, if they’re not willing to communicate them to the others and actually take orders from someone else or accept another’s plan without a fight, that’ll put them at a disadvantage. They might actually have a chance at this.