Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 36

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Buffy and her green-eyed rescuer face Slaypire hordes.
Word Count: 1,241
Rating: K
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.  READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

 

            “N-no,” she stammers, and is shocked to see what looks like a hint of a smile in those green eyes before he turns his attention past her.  “Yare yare daze.  They just don’t take a hint.”

            It’s see-through, just as Josephine’s was, but now Buffy doesn’t have the excuse of a knock on the head to think she’s imagining things.  That really is a green-painted Tarzan warrior that briefly reminds her of a few Mayan pictures and a bunch of other historical gibberish she hadn’t bothered to memorize, long ago.  It doesn’t look solid, but it’s solid enough that it manages to punch some of the Slaypires out of the air as they try to pounce an unsuspecting prey.

            The flying monster lets out a scream of rage, and is met with the same treatment, a sound like “Ora” …isn’t that the Spanish for ‘gold’? and a flying flurry of fists.  The bat-ray-thing quickly retreats, but the screech is ear-rending.  It’s joined by several creepy calls (that sound something like Wryy, but that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever).  The Slaypires are still approaching, though, in huge numbers, and the Slayer feels a pang.  How in the world did Simone manage to turn all of those Slayer Trainees without anyone noticing?

            Buffy learns that it’s a lot harder to hit and destroy a vampire’s brain than it is to hit the heart.  Maybe it’s just practice but—and this is a yucky thought—even with supernatural strength, it feels like the bone is thicker around the brain.  The ribs are easier to crack or avoid.  In any case, as much as she loves the stake and as much as it’s her friend, it’s not the correct tool for this.  And now she’s going to have to scrub out her brain with some industrial strength bleach and hours and hours of scouring, or she might sustain permanent emotional trauma.

            Who is she kidding, she’s had lingering emotional trauma ever since ‘vampire’ became the real threat that stalks the night, rather than just some mugger or something.  While she’s at it, though, maybe she should see if she can add a sword to her regular arsenal.  Maybe a magically extending one, so it’s easy to fit in her purse like Mr. Pointy.

She’s gotten pretty good at fight-multitasking, so she ducks on instinct, managing to miss both the swing of a…is that a strangely elongated, wiggly finger?  She doesn’t really want to think about it.  That, and the elated shout of the Tarzan as it punches the Slaypire hard enough it goes through the wall, barely missing her.  She can feel the air move as it goes by.

            It’d also be nice if the sword was pretty as well as practical.  Sure, her life probably will never be normal in relation to most people.  Most people didn’t spend their teen years to early adulthood fighting monsters, let alone, well, potentially past that.  She can at least get weapons that match her outfits.

            She does manage a lucky shot with a spin kick.  Her heels crunch a little, which she’s trying to repress, both because it’s icky and because it means she’s probably going to need a new pair—again.  The Slaypire dusts.  And Giles had told her that she had more important things to worry about than her shoe shopping.

            This new guy isn’t easy to read.  For most people, maybe, but Giles doesn’t like to show his emotions, either, unlike these boisterous Americans, and she’s gotten pretty good at reading unexpressive people.  She’s pretty sure he didn’t mean her to see the brief look full of pride in his eyes after that Slay before he turns to defend himself from a particularly determined Slaypire with a pipe that looks like it’s been wrenched directly off the wall.

            Usually, Buffy would tease for something like that, but she’s embarrassed even as she’s pleased.  Take that, Hank.  No one would want me as their daughter, my foot.  I might have two contenders, here.

            Okay, okay, maybe she’s getting a little ahead of herself.  But it’s the same look Giles gives her when he’s proud of her but doesn’t want to say anything in a stoic, British way.  Because he’s afraid she’ll get a swollen ego or whatever.  She’s pretty sure this guy isn’t English, but the same rule applies.

            He’s tall, and the way he’s built, he should be intimidating.  Some of the Slaypires, the ones that don’t look like they’re entirely brain-dead, anyway, take a look at the two of them and make a beeline for her.  It’d almost be insulting, if it didn’t often work to her advantage.

            Buffy’s usual method of dealing with intimidating is poking it until it gives up or attacks, but that won’t be necessary this time because she’s pretty sure she knows exactly what she’s dealing with.

            She’s still not sure whatever power Josephine had been talking about, but this guy has it too.  They’re both ridiculously tall (she allows herself a moment to pout before back-stepping and punching the stupid vampire in her stupid face) and are fairly muscled.  The eye colors are different, but the look in them when fighting?  That’s pretty similar.

            This guy’s probably another Joestar, just in the nick of time.  Which, hey, a horde like this?  She’s not complaining.  She can use all the help she can get.  Still, even with the two of them, they’re starting to get hemmed in, and even Mr. Stoic over there is breathing a little heavier.  There’s dust and monster bodies everywhere.  The weird flying thing is cackling madly, which is honestly slightly more intimidating than the eerie screeching, and the weird dog and frog monsters are closing in, too.  Simone had set her trap well.

            It’s then that they’re joined by more reinforcements.  Again, it almost—almost—looks like the Slaypires are flying back all on their own.  Except she can see—barely, seethrough, like it’s on another plane, but she can see it all the same—what look like jewels of green energy flying into their foes in a flurry.

            “Took you long enough,” her rescuer calls dryly, hands in pockets as if this is a casual stroll and not a fight for their lives.

            The voice that replies is smooth, almost sophisticated, and not at all apologetic.  “I may have known you for a long time, Jojo, but even I can’t read your mind.”

            All this gets in return is an unexpressive grunt.

            It doesn’t take long for them to fall in a rhythm, Buffy almost with her back to this ‘Jojo’ as she and he and his Tarzan make quick work of any of the Slaypires that dare approach.  Well, more Buffy hitting them back (so much for proper accessorization) and the Tarzan putting fists through the heads of the vampires and anything else that gets close, leading to a lot of dust and some piling up bodies in a circle around them.  Showers of the glittery transparent green jewels take out others further from them, and what looks like tendrils have formed a sort of protective web around them, preventing the seemingly neverending stream from getting too close.  The monster (really, it needs a name, but Buffy’s having trouble doing much more than breathe and utter the occasional quip when she finds the breath to do so) is a little too quiet, though, and it’s enough to make a Slayer paranoid.