#george joestar III

[livfordoodles]

Johnny and Rina :,D

[we-love-morioh-cho]

Araki having Johnny name his son after his f*ther rather than Nicholas or Gyro was actually so foul..........

[whos-hotter-jjba]

Preliminary Match 12 - Hottest JoJo Character Bracket

[duhragonball]

JoJolion Ch.18-22

So, this scene with Yasuho idly touching her tongue to her own elbow has always bothered me. It has nothing to do with anything, and why is it even in this story?

The only explanation I can think of is that this embodies the ability of her Stand, Paisley Park. It guides Yasuho in the right direction, and finds ways to progress to a goal. This is a reflection of Yasuho's own talent for research and investigation. She gets interested in a mystery and just refuses to let it go until she can find out more.

So I guess she found out once that it's physically impossible for a human to lick their own elbow, and she put her mind to it and found a way to pull it off. But realistically, the only way that can work is if she's got hypermobility in her shoulders, or a really long tongue, or both of those things.

Anyway, this is the "Shakedown Road" arc.

Quick note: In chapter 18, Josuke contemplates Yoshikage Kira and decides that he must be a somewhat decent guy, since he apparently snuck into the Higashikata home and removed Kyo Nijimura's name from their copy of the family tree, so that they wouldn't suspect her when she infiltrated their home as a maid. This is probably why Kyo went after Josuke in the previous arc, because she found out he looked at the family tree, and worried that he was going to expose her identity.

Although, I find it odd that Kyo would have bothered infiltrating the Higashikata home at all, if Yoshikage could sneak in and out that easily. Although it seems like the two of them didn't compare notes much, even though they're on the same side.

As for the Higashikata Family, they're all having breakfast in their swimsuits, because they were planning to take a trip to Hawaii this week, but had to call it off because Hato never got her passport. This is because Hato didn't know Hawaii was part of the United States. At first I thought she didn't know anything about Hawaii, like maybe she thought it was a Japanese territory, like the British Virgin Islands or something. Or she thought Pearl Harbor was the end of World War II, and Japan got to keep Hawaii.

But no, I think it's more like... she just didn't know where Hawaii is? Like she just thought it's one of the islands in the Japanese archipelago, like Iwo Jima or Okinawa. Or maybe she just thought it was in Tokyo or something. Like, that's really dumb. Hawaii's a pretty famous place, and you'd think she'd know her own country a little better than this. "Oh, yeah, we're all taking a vacation to the Honolulu Prefecture."

Anyway, they all wore their bathing suits to at least simulate the experience of a poolside breakfast. This seems pretty sad. I mean, they have beach resorts in Japan, don't they? I mean, if I were one of the idle rich and my trip to the Bahamas fell through, I might fly out to Miami and try to get something similar.

Oh, and Joshuu isn't playing along because he never would have gotten on the plane in the first place. This is because he's an atheist, so that means he doesn't trust... planes? He also complains that the milk is a day over the expiration date, and he refuses to take chances, even over something so minor. I feel like that's not now atheism works? It's not like people only trust planes and milk because they believe that a higher power is the only thing keeping them safe.

But then again, Joshuu's an idiot. Like, I really don't get the point of this guy, aside from just putting an unlikeable, obnoxious person in the story for its own sake. Joshuu does get some consequences for his bad behavior, but most of the time he's just a complete shithead who makes an ass of himself and everyone sort of endures his presence. There's no joke, no lesson or moral. Joshuu never does anything or learns anything. He tries to act like he's a rival for Yasuho's affections, but literally no one else believes this.

Josuke wonders if he's a Stand user like Daiya, and his moronic act is part of his Stand Power. But no, he's just an idiot. And yet, the rest of the family also act like idiots, but they do have Stands and they're more dangerous. So I can see why Josuke stays on guard around him.

All right, so let's talk about Shakedown Road. In this arc, Josuke declares that he wants to go to school, and he wants his own cell phone. This is partly so he can have more freedom of movement to investigate his origins, but also he's thinking about his own future. Now that he knows he's a chimera of Yoshikage Kira and some other person, Josuke realizes that he has no past of his own, and no place where he belongs. So he needs to find a place for himself, and he figures he can discover his own talents and interests in school.

Norisuke tells Joshuu to take Josuke along to his own classes, and Joshuu decides to take a trip down "Shakedown Road". He warns Josuke that he's had money taken from him every time he's come to this place, but he insists that this time will be different. It's like he's counting on Josuke's presence to resolve the problem for him.

At first, it seems pretty unassuming. It's not like there's a bunch of muggers everywhere. Just Ginkgo trees and seemingly ordinary people. But then a woman complains to Joshuu that he stepped on her daughter's toy and demands he make restitution. Joshuu never came anywhere near the toy, but one of the stickers from it got onto his shoe, and his shoeprint is on the broken pieces, so the evidence is clear.

Joshuu explains that this was how it happened the last time he came here, but it wasn't the same woman back then. Josuke is intrigued and they use the camera on Joshuu's phone to record their movements along the road.

Then this old man accuses Josuke of breaking one of the aquariums in his shop. The collision fatally wounded an exotic turtle in the water tank. He says the turtle was decapitated, but its body was still moving around after the accident. We don't see the turtle, but this makes me sad, because there was a cool turtle in Parts 3, 4, and 5, but the Part 8 turtle has met with a tragic end. Rest in Power, Part 8 turtle. I'm sure you kicked ass.

Josuke wants to review the footage on Joshuu's phone, but Joshuu pretends he didn't hit the record button. In fact he caught the whole thing. Josuke was walking along, then he stepped on some gingko leaves, and was impossibly flung into the turtle tank at super speed. His elbow hit the tank, breaking it and killing the turtle, and then he got jerked right back where he was. And it happened so quickly that Josuke never even knew he had moved.

So Joshuu figures out that the gingko leaves have something to do with all of this, but he plays dumb so as not to clue Josuke in on this. Josuke, for his part, believes that there's a Stand User at work here, but the old man seems oblivious to Soft and Wet, so he can't have a Stand of his own, or he'd be able to see other Stands.

This is kind of a weakness with Part 8. Stands had been a fixture in JoJo's Bizarre Adventure for over twenty years by the time JoJolion started, so it's probably fair that Araki assumed the readers could keep up with the rules. Indeed, this scene where neither Joshuu, the old man, the dog, nor the cell phone camera can perceive Soft and Wet pretty much spells out how this one rule works.

Still, Parts 3 through 7 each did a much better job laying all this out for new readers. Part 3 had to get it right, because that was where the Stand concept was first introduced, but in Parts 4 and 5 the main characters had their own Stands, then learned that there were others with the same kind of power. Also, Parts 4, 5, and 6 all featured characters who developed Stands during the story, so there was a learning curve for the audience. And Part 7 was a reboot, so the idea literally had to be reintroduced on account of this.

Part 8's problem is that Josuke has amnesia, but he appears to understand his Soft and Wet powers implicitly. Either he came out of the ground immediately knowing how to use his ability, or he sorted it out while he was in the hospital in Chapter 2. The problem is that he really doesn't have anyone else to explain it to, and the battles with other Stand Users are essentially ambushes with no time to process the details.

I sort of wonder how Part 9 handles this issue. My impression is that the main characters start the story already familiar with Stands, sort of like Bruno's team in Part 5. Maybe there's a viewpoint character they can explain it to, or maybe there's a wall of exposition somewhere. Well, that's a problem for another time.

I'm a little confused on this part, but some shady-looking characters notice Josuke and Joshuu and try to use them to complete a transaction on Shakedown Road. They coerce Josuke into delivering a package to a nearby woman, and receive her handbag in exchange, I think. Joshuu realizes that the people who understand Shakedown Road can use its mysterious properties to conduct this sort of illegal business. There are undercover cops nearby, but it doesn't matter. The crooks do some tricky stuff with the gingko leaves to make the swap without getting caught. Also Josuke gets yanked at super speed so that he accidentally hits one of the cops. So while they search him for the package, the crooks all walk away, their transaction seemingly complete.

While Josuke is tackled by the cops, he notices a bunch of little creatures under the gingko leaves, and that's the Stand he was looking for. This is Les Feuilles, and the Stand's user is the gingko trees themselves? I guess?

Anyway, Joshuu managed to grab the handbag, thinking it's full of money, and runs off in all the confusion.

But the crooks catch up to him pretty easily, using their experience with the gingko leaves to zip and fly towards him. Joshuu gives them the handbag but it's empty, so they're all set to fuck him up, but then Joshuu's own Stand activates. It has the power to disassemble people and objects. In this particular situation, it just gives these guys a scare, but once Joshuu escapes the effect wears off and they decide not to pursue him. I think Joshuu's Stand is more useful than this, but he absolutely sucks, so I'm pretty sure we never see it reach its full potential.

As it turns out, Josuke managed to foil the crooks from the start. He didn't know where the Stand was or exactly how it worked, but since none of the people involved were the user, that allowed him to use his own Stand to trick them without anyone realizing it. He used Soft and Wet's bubbles to switch the money with gingko leaves, or... something. I'm a little confused to be honest. The point is that the handbag was empty, the crooks didn't get their money, and Josuke can't get pinned with anything because having money on Shakedown Road just proves you're clever, not a thief. As for the woman who got the package, Josuke tells the cops to go chase her down, so it's fair to assume that she didn't get very far.

Josuke tries to call Yasuho on Joshuu's cell phone to meet up with her, but it doesn't work because Yasuho blocked Joshuu's number. She tracks the phone's location to Shakedown Road, which is close to the Joestar Jizo, and that gets her interested.

Jizo, also known as Kṣitigarbha, is a bodhisattva revered as the patron deity of dead children and aborted fetuses. He's also revered as a protector of travelers and firefighters. The Japanese are quite fond of Jizo, and so there are a lot of statues of Jizo in cemeteries and roadsides in Japan. The idea is that the statues serve as a memorial and a sign of Jizo comforting and watching over the dead.

In this case, the Joestar Jizo was built to honor the death of Johnny Joestar, an American who died in an accident in Morioh. I guess the death of a foreigner in a foreign land was particularly sad for the locals, so they set up the Jizo to express their condolences to Johnny and his family.

Of course, we know Johnny Joestar as the hero of Part 7, Steel Ball Run. Part 8 is set 120 years after Part 7, so Johnny's death is kind of a no-brainer, but how did he die, and what was he doing in Morioh?

This sequence here is one of my favorite scenes in JoJolion. There's a certain rite of passage in JJBA, where the hero of the next part will have some sort of connection to the previous Jojo. In Part 2, Joseph never met his grandfather, but he looked just like him, and he was surrounded by people who knew Jonathan and his legacy. In Part 3, Jotaro teamed up with Joseph to track down Dio. In Part 4, Jotaro finds Josuke and informs him of his Joestar heritage. In Part 5, Giorno Giovanna is ignorant of the other Jojos, but Koichi Hirose, who has met several of them, recognizes in Giorno the same noble qualities. In Part 6, Jolyne reconnects with her estranged father, Jotaro. Part 7 was a reboot, so Johnny couldn't meet any of the previous Jojo's, but that's okay.

What I'm driving at here is that Josuke has a predecessor in Johnny, but the gulf of time between them is too vast. Josuke can't meet Johnny or anyone Johnny once knew. Josuke is all alone in Morioh, with no family of his own and no place to belong. He thinks that no one can possibly connect to him, then he sees the Joestar Jizo, wearing the same hat he has on, the same hat Johnny wore during his time in Japan.

The connection wouldn't mean anything to Josuke. He recognizes Johnny as the ancestor of Yoshikage Kira, but he doesn't see himself as part of that family. Nor would he understand that he and Johnny are part of the same college of shonen protagonists, along with Jonathan, Joseph, Jotaro, and the rest.

But we know, and in this brief moment, Josuke briefly connects with his fellow hero, and it's a beautiful thing. He's not alone, the universe tries to tell him, and he can't hear it, but maybe his heart knows, somehow.

The old man from earlier shows up and tells Josuke the legend of Johnny's death. He claims this is just a fantasy, and the library is full of other interpretations, but this is the only version we get, so it might as well be the true final fate of Johnny Joestar. So after the end of Part 7, Johnny met and fell in love with Rina Higashikata, the daughter of Norisuke Higashikata I. We saw all three of them together on the ocean liner. Norisuke was heading back to Japan with his prize money from the race, and Johnny was heading to Naples to bury Gyro Zeppeli. Eventually, Johnny and Rina married, and they lived happily for a time, until Rina came down with a strange illness. It kind of affected her mind like dementia, and Josuke wonders if it has anything to do with the condition Holly Kira has, but this is never explained. Physically, the disease does something weird to her skin, turning it rock hard and with these creases, like you'd see in origami.

The Jojo fan wiki refers to this as the "Rock Disease" and this is as close to an official name as we'll get. Johnny decided to move to Morioh so Rina could live out her remaining years in her homeland, but as her condition grew worse, he made a fateful decision.

The plot of Steel Ball Run revolved around the "Saint Corpse", the remains of a holy figure with supernatural properties. At the end of SBR, the Saint Corpse was locked away in a vault so no one would ever use it again, but Johnny knew where it was, and he chose to return to New York to steal it and use it one last time to cure his wife. The American authorities tried to stop him, but he managed to give them the slip and made it back to Morioh.

The problem is that the Saint Corpse doesn't actually perform miracles. Rather, it simply transfers fortune from one to another. Johnny's hope was that the Corpse would shift the Rock Disease from Rina to some other person, someone he didn't know. He was ashamed of doing this, but he loved Rina so much that he was willing to consign someone else to death. But the equivalent exchange backfired on him. Rina was cured, but the Rock Disease was transferred to their young son, George Joestar.

So Johnny mounted up with his son and the Saint Corpse and started riding away from their home. He didn't want his wife to see this, you understand. Realizing that he could never use the Saint Corpse to get rid of the Rock Disease, he used it one last time to transfer the disease from George to himself.

I'm a little confused about how this worked, exactly. In this scene, Johnny uses the Golden Spin to activate Tusk Act IV, which he uses to shoot a hole in his son's head, and then it bounces back onto him. I don't get it, but then again, I didn't understand Tusk Act IV in Part 7, either.

Johnny falls off his horse, and while George is cured, he shows signs of the Rock disease. Also, something about all this triggers the Les Fueilles Stand. I don't know if it was already active back then, or if Johnny's little stunt with the Saint Corpse somehow caused the gingko leaves to develop their own Stand. What I do know is that when his hand touches the leaves, they cause a giant boulder to suddenly fly in from somewhere else, and it lands right on Johnny's head, killing him.

Initially, the Morioh authorities treated this like a homicide, and even arrested Rina as a suspect, but later it was found to be an accident, and they let her go. The town built the Jizo in his memory, and I think that this whole incident might be what caused all these people to develop Stand powers in Morioh whenever they go near the fault lines. It might also explain why the land on the Higashikata estate can combine things like the lemon and tangerine from Kyo's demonstration.

At one time, I assumed that the Saint Corpse was still in Morioh, and its powers were behind everything, but that's not the case. In the old man's version of the story, the Americans finally tracked down Johnny after he died and they recovered the Saint Corpse.

Meanwhile Yasuho has independently researched the Johnny Joestar legend, and has come to the spot where he died. It's pretty close to the Higashikata mansion, as well as the spot where she found Josuke.

Yasuho also learned of another news item from the same day as Johnny's death in 1901. A small boy, no more than 2 years old, was discovered on the coast near the same area. No one ever found out who he was or where he came from, and apparently this never comes up again in JoJolion. I looked him up on the wiki to see if I might have missed something, but he's just listed as "Mysterious Boy" in the list of minor characters.

It's possible that the story of the Mysterious Boy was just a way to get Yasuho to poke around in this area, so that she would find a hole in the base of a certain pine tree where the boy was found 110 years ago. And once she gets close enough to it, someone grabs her and pulls her inside to set up the next arc. So the Mysterious Boy may never have been a plot point or a clue at all, just a curious mystery that would bait Yasuho into getting captured. Either that or the Mysterious Boy is the main villain of Part 9. Whatever.

[starry-blue-echoes]

George II and George III would have an interesting conversation concerning their families and the powers they've seen.

hdfbxgvdhbfvdbfbd y e a h -

the true team up we've been waiting for, George II and III doing what they can to live Normal Fucking Lives For God's Sake only to get screwed over by someone else

[nami-moittli]

Done with part 8 and currently catching up on part 9, so here’s the rest of them!

The father that would’ve survived if he was just a little more of an asshole, the WWI vet (dead), the damsel in distress best mom ever, the father that I’d accept the redemption of if he was he had just a little more screen time, the No one named George has any good things happen to them, the damsel in distress best mom ever, but if she went cRaZY, the What if the hand fetish serial killer guy wasn’t a hand fetish serial killer and was instead a boat doctor, “my mom could beat your mom in a fight” -Drug Dealer, and the transfem allegory

Every family has, the guy who got the bloodline cursed for 7 generations, the silly, the guy trying to hard to be cool, the bastard child, the Wait, how did you get here? the daddy issues, the There’s more of you?!? (x3) the you’re not even human, the Okay, you’re DEFINITELY not supposed to be here (x2), the horse girl, the amnesiac and the drug dealer

[mightbemod]

I made this because I've seen multiple fanarts of Jonathan with all the later jojos as kids, and they usually make Johnny a kid too! But Johnny is also an old man with his many descendants and now must feel the burden of fatherhood

Children featured from left to right: Kei Nijimura, Dragona Joestar, Jodio Joestar, Yoshikage Kira, George Joestar III, Joseph Joestar

Bonus:

[if-they-were-jojo]

Made an AU where the Joestars are a family so decided to make a family tree, went a bit over board,

so here is how it started I added in a couple people at the top for connections sake, (note that the first Jorge is only called that to avoid a fourth George being on this forsaken tree.)

Jotaro's side looks pretty normal, I kept Kakyoin has Jota's Godfather, though they have no biological relation here, also Anasui and Jolyne are only dating, but I wanted to put most people on the tree. Name changes for this branch are giving adult Holly her self chosen japanese name, and making up a name for Jolyne's Mom. I think it would be funny if her maiden name is Cujoh so Joylne is doing the name thing to say she likes her Mom more. (also Araki stated he meant for his name to be Tenmei and his editor misread the kanji so yeah.)

To make Johnny here I made George be living a double life, the idea is the would find out after George dies in the new version of phantom blood, everyone manages to come together as one family in the end even if Johnny feels weird about him and Jonathan sharing a name.

(note Straizo is also here, and is a vampire but I am not taking an image just for him.) Erina's Father is only named in the musical, and her mother not at all but I think it fits. Also Speedwagon was like for real a father figure to both George II and Joseph so yeah Godfather Speedwagon.

Deigo is on here, the Johns accept him as another brother in the shit dads squad (Jonathan, Johnny and Dio). Diego earns the screenshot.

The Pucci side of Dio's polycule I decided to make Foo a sentient stand who Pucci split off of their user, and whom Weather adopted, Weather is a teacher at Green Dolphin school in Florida, I also made Green Baby more of a person so his name is Gabby. Dio was a bisexual disaster in his youth after turning into a vampire so when he found out about Giorno he went on a bit of baby hunting quest with Vanilla.

speaking of Giorno, his foster families have both been added to the chart,

Dio is quite friendly to Bruno and Leone, though he hates Diavolo with a passion.

Doppio and Diavolo still share a body here by the way.

Now for Joseph, not to much to say here other than that Suzy and Tomoko after overcoming the initial feeling of betrayal have now settled into a happy if sometimes strained polyamory, also Wammu is his ex-fiance but the two are now on good terms. Oh also Speedwagon part 2 is now separate from Speedwagon part 1

I added Strohiem as Santana's foster parent for the funny.

I made Tomoko siblings with Norisuke Iv and Rina from parts 7 and 8, to better tie the families together, which means that Josuke and George III are cousins through their mothers and second cousins via their fathers.

Also Josuke and Josuke are legally cousins via adoption which is neat.( I named Mitsuba's unamed baby Loacaca has a placeholder not for real) honestly nothing major changed over here.

some diversions, I made Yasuho Koichi's older sister and named Mansaku's stand but nothing major.( Tree-wise)

The other Kujos are unremarkable, the Kiras though? they relate back to the orginal Joestar family through Holly, plus I added Yoshikage part 4 to the mix of Kira siblings, though he is renamed Kosaku, since otherwise he shares a name with a sibling. In the AU he is currently in jail while his loving wife delivers him food and company. He likes the routine of the prison system, and Hayato fucking hates him for winning Shinobu over. Also Jodio and Dragona are here.

[slowd1ving]

PENDULUM ✦ . 　⁺ iii.

UNDERGROUND (MAREUX)

"But you're barely holding on, In a world of false reflection. Keep looking for yourself, Never got enough attention." wc: 6.3k

JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE MASTERLIST

PENDULUM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

PREVIOUS PART ・゜NEXT PART

 Goodbyes are more trouble than they’re worth . 

This was a philosophy Johnny Joestar had painfully etched into the very fibres of his miserable existence. Goodbyes were deceitful: brimming with a false security that preluded a death sentence. Calamity and courtesy – all wrapped up in a neat little package of two syllables. 

At midnight, the outskirts of Kentucky were quiet, with nary a cicada to break the peace. Too quiet. The deafening roar of silence meant that Johnny only had his thoughts as background noise: poison thorns striking his mind over and over (an incessant loop of malicious laughter running through a theatre audience was the only other comparison he could make). 

It was at that moment that the covers in his bed felt like vices restraining his body; the familiar panic wracking his brain catalysed an overdrive in his neurons. Reflexively, he grappled for the wheelchair with a blind fervour – even in the complete pitch of his room, each night contained such a routine that it had become muscle memory for his arms at this point. 

He’d probably never fully get accustomed to the polished timber lining the floors, but the wheels navigated the well-known route to the kitchen without any skids. His elderly caretaker had never remembered to order carpets, but now that she wasn’t here anymore, he never remembered to get round to it either. 

It didn’t matter in the long run. Nothing did. 

He hadn’t said a word as she bid him farewell. Old age was taking its toll, and she had gone to stay with her remaining son. A perfunctory, tight-lipped nod, and she was on her way without a backward glance. He hadn’t bothered writing to his father to ask for a replacement; George Joestar wouldn’t reply. 

Rosie was just a last courtesy to his estranged son: a cursory attempt to make sure his last living son wouldn’t die off immediately after being shipped off to Kentucky. Not in a genuinely, familial-concerned way, but an ‘I’m already getting shit for disowning you so don’t die off like your brother and make me look worse’ way. 

No, George Joestar would never write back. 

It was something he’d accepted after he was disowned; reality was already bleak enough without Nicholas, so what was one more blow from a father who never liked his younger son anyway? If he thought about it too long at sixteen, he’d drown in his own tears. But now, three years later, the raw wound had stopped stinging as much – Johnny was more hollow than he had been in his past. 

Sure, if he dwelled on it long enough, the hurt festered: turning into a septic, writhing mass filled with the unrelenting, putrid sensation of maggots crawling through his brain. It wouldn’t let go – not until he was choking and heaving with cold sweat and the tell-tale taste of bile escaping his throat. 

But that was when he thought about it, and he was determined not to; not when his usual routines of Waking Up Amidst Bouts Of Nightmares and Staying In The Kitchen Until They Passed was going so blissfully well. 

Light flooded into the small space as he lit the oil lamp lying in the middle of the kitchen table: a balm to his disquieted mind. Top it up , he noted mentally, before rummaging around in one of the bottom cabinets for a glass. If he was in particularly bad shape, he’d just shakily take greedy swigs from his water decanter back in his room – but that wasn’t tonight. 

If he remembered correctly, there was- there , in all its glory, was the small bottle Rosie had mercifully left. Warm light shone through the coppery liquid and made it look like fucking ambrosia . It was half-full – just enough . He’d stave off the darkness clawing at him for another night. 

His hands trembled slightly as he poured the drink into the tumbler; glass clinked against glass, and some of the liquid droplets spattered onto his thighs. Mournfully, he looked at the amber staining his threadbare pants, but it wasn’t like he could feel the cold seeping into his skin. If he had any sensation in his legs, he might’ve changed out of those pants – though, as it stood, he didn’t feel the discomfort. So, he simply turned away. Not like I’m going out anytime soon , he thought bitterly. 

Against his chattering teeth, the rim bit into mouth uncomfortably. Doesn’t matter . And it wouldn’t matter, not when he was chasing the alcohol to light his worries ablaze. 

With blond strands of hair stuck to his face with cold sweat, he drank. There – in the light of the moon and lamp meshing together, in the tiny kitchen he barely cooked in, in the rickety apartment he called home – he took an avaricious swig of whiskey that left him reeling from the burn. His previously clammy skin already began its steady journey to warmth (though it might also have been a placebo effect from sitting by the lamp). 

Small, steady sips. Even in the empty apartment, he schooled his face into a neutral expression. It wasn’t like he’d never decanted a glass from his father’s extensive bourbon collection, or sipped on a glass of wine at dinner back in England – but that was years ago. He barely remembered the taste of those ridiculously expensive liquors; all that remained was the stark feeling of contrast between those glasses and this cheap, almost gritty alcohol. 

His face contorted into a grimace at the memory. No, this was infinitely better : without his father breathing down his neck with terrifying pressure, in a place he could actually call his home. Kentucky was familiar. Safe . The dusty breeze that blew when he had the chance to sit on his porch was nothing like the harsh wind that stung his face in England. 

By now, his head was tipped back and his eyes were tightly shut – heat was taking its leisurely voyage through his bloodstream. Nothing more than a pleasant buzz; he’d have to make the journey to the store to buy more bottles with the monthly allowance from a distant uncle, if he truly wanted to feel life slip out of his fingertips. A fitting end for the prodigal son.  

The prodigal son . 

Johnny’s eyes opened by a fraction. Any neutrality – any comfort – he’d just felt in the liquid washing over him dissipated in a fragile plume of smoke. It all came crashing down: even the tiny, fragile bird of a dream – to forget – withered in its delicate cage. 

He drained the rest of his glass in silence. 

Nobody to say goodbye to in an empty home . 

. 　⁺ ✦

(“ Raskolnikov had a terrible dream .”)

Life was starting to shape itself into something pleasantly ordinary until this morning. This morning, when the cornflower-blue skies and clean breeze had lured Johnny out onto his porch with a flask of tea and a dog-eared paperback to flee from a particularly bad nightmare. Before he got shot in the spine, the outdoors had been a bountiful playground to escape to from the claws of his father.  

Nowadays, the outdoors tended to be a figment of his imagination. Though not today. Rather, the rolling, verdant fields of his mind’s landscape were replaced with the yellowed fields of the Kentucky backwaters stretching out before his eyes. And that was enough.

After the clutter of his jockey life – the sleeping around, the constant swarms of reporters, and the incessant comparison to Diego – the peace and quiet was somewhat relaxing. No, it isn’t . Any optimism he might’ve felt was promptly ground into dust by the very fact that it came at too high a cost . 

He didn’t think the feeling of bitterness would ever relinquish its hold from his heart. How could it? In less than a second, the bullet found his spine and robbed him of everything he had known. 

(“ He’ll suffer when he realises the error of his ways. That’s his punishment .”)

Was this the judgement sent down from God? Was this lonesome the punishment for causing his brother’s death? Just as Cain before him, was this the retribution for his crime? 

It was with spiteful resignation – nothing more, nothing less – that he wallowed in loneliness. All his friends had left him behind after he’d ceased to remain Joe Kid. Not once had they written, and he certainly wouldn’t try to reach out. They had made their choices; he wouldn’t grovel at their feet for scraps of pity. He’d quietly live out his days in the place where he was born and had his major break as a jockey. 

And that had to be enough . 

For three years, he’d committed to his penance. A frugal life – he wouldn’t be caught wanting when the day of judgement came. He shut himself away; it was surprisingly easy to slip into solitude. The harder part was getting out of it. Any confidence he possessed as JoJo, the genius jockey, was gone. All that remained was a timid husk of a man, of a boy who’d been marked out by Fate far too early in life. 

He’d lost his voice. 

Not literally, though the instrument was shy and rarely taken out. Somewhere along the line, he’d become an observer : swept away by the passive tide of cynicism and detached from the workings of man. Sure, he occasionally read the newspapers and wrote a remark in the margins with a hastily sharpened pencil for his tomorrow self to find, but those occasions were few and far between. 

He was slowly losing himself. 

That, above all else, was what had affected him the most. For years, he had fought for his place at the top: until his fingernails tore from his skin and bled with how hard he grappled. That was his to bear proudly. Years of torn muscles, years of rigorous training for the top, years of reins cutting into skin until all that remained was stony calluses – all for him to forget his own tenacity. 

It was something to think about; something to store away in the distant galaxies of his neurons until the miserable clutches of night. He paused the train of thought to adjust the knitted cap slung over his brow, before tugging open the paperback nestled in his lap. 

(“ Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing .”)

When the creaking of the wooden patio next-door sounded out, it was only then that Johnny realised that the sentences and words before him were swimming in the deep pools of his eyes: meaningless and indecipherable. He’d been skimming over the same passage over and over. Looking but not seeing . A strangled sigh emerged from him before he snapped the novel shut. 

It was the elderly woman, emerging from her matching one-storey apartment with her daughter. He’d only exchanged a few words with both of them in the few years he had spent here, but if he recalled, Rosie had been friends with the pair. It didn’t matter . He busied himself with looking at the woodpecker hammering away at the hickory in his small yard. 

“Good mornin’ to you, Johnny-boy!”

The enthusiastic warble of the old lady calling across broke him out of neutrality. Johnny-boy . He didn’t think he’d ever heard of that particular moniker for him, but it was significantly better than Joe Kid - much better than listening to an audible reminder of his crumbling laurels, in any case. 

“Good mornin’,” he responded with a politely curt nod. Despite his coldness, she never stopped the greetings when she saw him; she even sent her daughter over with food occasionally. It was surreal, and completely unfamiliar territory for him. Even small talk like her sharing tidbits of the current news felt alien . 

It felt like there was someone looking out for him: a breath away from eternal condemnation.

“My granddaughter was just talking my ear off about it a few months ago,” she continued in that rolling Southern drawl. Maybe her cadence was the reason he’d never outright ignored her; this mirror of his own lilting accent, which his father tried to beat out of him, was proof he was out of George Joestar’s reach. 

“Apparently, it’s all the rage with the young’uns now that the details are being finalised,” she lowered her voice conspirationally, then drew in a long puff from her pipe. Smoke billowed out of her nose as she sunk into the rocking chair in satisfaction. It was obvious she was trying to draw her point out for as long as possible to entice him to excitement; it was a tactic Rosie had employed to interest him in something . Anything , so long as he finally went out for a bit. 

“Get to it, Ma, before you get any older,” her daughter teased, before looking back at Johnny with good-nature and- there it was . That glint of pity in her eye. Venomous fury stirred up; it clouded the clear waters of impassiveness until it was murky. Don’t look at me as if I’m some martyr to look at with sympathy , he wanted to snap, but he bit his tongue. 

Johnny met her gaze with an icy expression instead. Say it , the stony set of his brows challenged. I dare you .   

She looked down at the weathered timber beneath her feet, with only silence carrying in the breeze between them.

“The Steel Ball Run is going to start in just a few weeks – isn’t it exciting?” his elderly neighbour interrupted: oblivious to the growing tension. His heart dropped. Did she know who he had been? Had Rosie told her? No, she wouldn’t , he tried to reason with himself. 

“Yeah, I heard,” he mustered up. More than heard . Two years ago, the newspaper declaring the race being scheduled had been stuffed into his mouth to keep him from waking the other patients in the ward he was in. With tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and the intense pain stabbing through his back, it wasn’t like he’d forget the name. Even now, his vision clouded with watery streaks, and he blinked furiously to dispel the tears threatening to burst out of him. 

“Buncha prissy jockeys and brass hats are going to San Diego for the beginnin’ of it,” she prattled on. There was a vapidness in her tone that reassured Johnny to no end – just another impersonal sharing of news . It didn’t matter in the long run. It doesn't matter at all . 

A few weeks, and he’d still be home: rot consuming his living body until he was just a breathing corpse – just a decomposing, useless pile of flesh and blood. He was no longer Joe Kid. That was another life; JoJo was dead and buried back in the racing tracks in England. He was Johnny now: an unlucky kid who got unto him what he did unto his brother.  

He tuned his neighbour’s babble out. Today reminded him of the day he’d won the Kentucky Derby: the incandescent glory racing through his veins, sweat pouring down his body, and the echo of his father’s words etched forever in his mind. 

God had taken the wrong son . 

At sixteen, he had lofty hopes of finally making his father acknowledge him by following in his footsteps. He’d win the Preakness Stakes and Belmont Stakes – cementing his name beside his father’s in the Grand Slam. Johnny Joestar’s name would finally carry as much weight as George Joestar’s. Some secret, tiny part of him still sought greedily after his approval; the rest wanted to carve out a legacy that didn’t get overshadowed by his father’s. His own Triple Crown victory, something to raise his status to George’s. A tribute to Nicholas. 

That never happened. 

Diego Brando had claimed first in the Preakness Stakes. He could almost picture his father’s reaction – “ He’s beat you once again, you snivelling dog . If Nicholas were here, he’d prove his worth as a jockey and take first .”. Pursed lips, that faint curl of disgust in the muscles surrounding his mouth: “ The only reason you won at Preakness was because Diego hadn’t competed .”. Muscle for muscle, he could see every furrow in his father’s brow, even now – even in the safety of his home across the globe. 

Before he could even think about regaining his scraps of dignity in the Belmont Stakes, he’d said one too many words to a nobody – his arrogance had cost him all connection to his legs and any hope of fleeing his father’s shadow. In one second, his dreams crumbled around him; his very future had crashed and burned because of his conceitedness. 

And he’d never once won against Diego. Not once had he proven himself worthy of being George Joestar’s son. Not once had he proven himself worthy of being Nicholas Joestar’s brother. Not once had he remained a star; instead, his legacy had crashed to earth like a fleeting meteorite. Dirt and metal disguised as the shining lights in the sky . 

There was nothing he could do about it. 

Physicians all across America had peered at the scar stationed at his spine, and done numerous examinations on his legs; the results were identical. He’d never ride again. The clinical detachment with which they broke the news was significantly more bearable than the pity letters he got afterwards from fans clinging on to trophies past. 

It was his punishment for saying goodbye. 

If he just drowned Danny, would it all be different? If he hadn’t begged Nicholas for help, if he never let his pet mouse go into the woods with Nicholas, if he hadn’t whispered that final, naive goodbye (the one that hoped both parties would remain alive, but separate), would Nicholas still be alive?

A mouse over his brother. 

When Nicholas’ horse stumbled on the racetrack near the woods and his brother had been crushed to death, Johnny’s ears rang. He would have slipped into unconsciousness had it not been for the words of the witnesses crying out in shock. Diego Brando, the stablehands, and his brother’s friend all said the same thing: a white mouse had startled the skittish Thoroughbred.

A white mouse. Danny . 

All because he said that hopeful goodbye. All because he was too cowardly, too sentimental to get rid of a pet that would die within a year anyway. All because of Johnny . 

His father was right. God had taken the wrong son . 

. 　⁺ ✦

(“ All who met him were loathsome to him – he loathed their faces, their movements, their gestures. If anyone addressed him, he felt that he might have spat at him or bitten him. ”)

In the cool air of dawn, the Kentucky train station felt more like a ghost town than a place of journey – hauntingly empty, with only the ticket operator to fill in the soulless area. Even the wind didn’t stir the silence; it was with trepidation that Johnny moved forward to the kiosk. And it was immediate – wheel crunched against gravel and the sanctity was broken. He felt more like Cain than ever. 

Something had snapped within him yesterday. As much as he tried to stop himself, there was a tug pulling him to San Diego. I’ll be able to get my wheels changed and axles oiled , he attempted to rationalise.

Deep down, he knew that it had everything to do with the Steel Ball Run, and nothing to do with wheelchair maintenance. He’d get closure. He’d watch the start of the greatest horse race in all of history; he’d face it after running away from his problems for so long and drowning himself in rage. Finally, after three years, his life would begin anew and he would be reborn. No longer did Joe Kid exist – in his place was someone whose mind had been ground to a bloody, fleshy pulp by Fate. 

Will and want had taken over the reins of his body for once. 

Last night, he’d packed ascetically: another pair of star-spangled pants, a few sparse shirts, a book, and toiletries. Maybe there was a stony loaf of bread tucked in there somewhere, but he really didn’t want to check. It was all packed tightly in a tube-shaped overnight bag; the comforting weight was clutched to his chest in something that almost resembled a hug. 

He hadn’t said goodbye to his neighbours, but that was only to be expected. Well, he might’ve pinned a note to their mailbox explaining that he’d be gone for a few days, but surely that didn’t count. Surely it wouldn’t condemn them to their deaths as well?

“Ticket to San Diego,” he rattled off, almost subconsciously with how much he had thought out this interaction before. 

“First class or not?” the ticketmaster eyed his wheelchair pointedly, and Johnny desperately suppressed a glare. 

“Non-first class is fine,” he replied curtly. As he handed off his four dollars, he felt the ticketmaster stare more closely at him. No, no . God forbid. 

“Ya know, you’re starting to look a bit familiar,” he slid the paper under the window thoughtfully. Johnny snatched it hastily, feeling his heart start the tremulous journey to rapidity. 

“I get that a lot,” he uttered nonchalantly. Was it too late to draw his hood over his face? I hate you . Carefully, he manoeuvred his hands to his wheels after making sure his ticket was safe in his pocket. 

“No, sonny, it’s nagging at my mind,” the ticket master tilted his head to the side. Johnny turned away.

“I don’t look like anyone ,” he spat out viciously. Amongst the crunch of gravel and the newly arriving people, he could faintly hear the man call out, but it didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t , but the trembling of his arms suggested otherwise. 

He was safe behind the brick wall a few metres away. As casually as possible, he pulled the blue wool of his cap further down his face and tucked the loose strands of hair dangling in front of his eyes away. The train would arrive in a mere ten minutes anyway. He’d sequester himself in the privacy of a booth, and that would be that. 

And with some careful board manoeuvring as a makeshift ramp, he was on the metal monster. It wasn’t like he’d never been on a train, but the last time he had was when he first arrived three years ago – his eyes were too puffy with tears to really take in the landscape.  But this rocking – this fast-paced rattle of metal against metal – felt like the canter of his horse. 

It was captivating. 

For the first time in years, a tiny smile had wriggled its way onto his face. 

Life itself was racing past him: villages, fields, forests – all flying past in a hazy blur through the window. It was relaxing , and he could feel the taste of freedom on his tongue. This was what he had desperately missed in his mournful imaginings of the outdoors: the fast-paced movement of a galloping steed beneath him, countryside and crowd blending into one.

Against his will, those eager, greedy eyes began to shut. He tried, he really did – yet, the soothing motion of the train propelling him caused his eyelids to flutter to a hesitant close. He tipped his head against the window; to his fevered cheeks, the cool glass was a pleasant respite. 

For once, his sleep was dreamless. 

It was with the juddering halt of the beast that he woke up. Groggily, he registered how dry his mouth was, and how refreshed he felt. With the sun on his face, he felt more alive than ever – like some pathetic little plant that just got its daily fix of nutrients. He stretched and unfurled his arms as if he was a goddamn sunflower basking in the light rays.  

It was late afternoon. If he was eyeing the angle of the sun over the station correctly, he still had over twenty hours left of travel. Over 700 miles traversed in the blink of his dreamless eyes – these locomotives were truly something . Each passenger booth was equipped with a bed and plush green seats: wrapped up in the privacy of a secluded room. By the vast window, there was a cord to alert a steward of any needs or queries.

In his reflection, he could see his hat had fallen off onto his lap; blond curls framed his face delicately in a deceitful halo. He was suddenly reminded of the flash of the camera – capturing this exact image. I made headlines . At sixteen, he regularly found his face embossed on the front of the papers – “ Genius jockey wins Kentucky at the tender age of sixteen” . An ode to his success. A ballad sung of failure . 

He tore his eyes away. 

Would he truly be prepared to let go when he arrived at San Diego? When the glory of the starting contestants hit him at full force, would he be able to detach himself into a mere spectator? How bad would it hurt ?

The crawling feeling of trepidation started. He wasn’t ready, and he’d likely never be ready. But it had to be done; for three years, he’d drowned in his own grief. Life had been severed in two jagged sides, and he had stood at the cusp – unwilling to move on, unwilling to adapt, unwilling to live . It was time to make peace and truly enter the state of penance. 

It felt like sacrilege. 

He buried his head in his hands: a staunch refusal to enjoy the changing view as the train pulled away from the station again. I’m sorry, Nicholas . He could never atone for his sins. It felt wrong to try to accept Fate as it dealt him a terrible hand – it was like rejecting justice itself. He had no one to blame but himself for the loneliness. It felt wrong to try to find happiness. 

“I’m sorry, Nicholas, I’m sorry , I’m sorry,” he whispered against the warm flesh of his fingers. Nobody responded, save the screams of wheel against track. The lump in his throat grew and grew, until he was choking and suffocating on the acidic taste. 

Cain kill Abel, Cain suffer . 

He breathed harshly. Nails dug into the meat of his cheeks and he could feel the dull pain blossoming into a delicate rouge. No , he couldn’t possibly move on and be at peace – but it was too late. His own want had taken over him, and he was powerless against it. A passive observer – someone who allowed his fate to be dictated to him. 

A useless, wretched human. 

Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but any appetite disappeared as quickly as it came. He felt as lethargic as if he were Atlas shouldering the burden of the sky; though, unlike Atlas, he was painfully human. 

A few minutes passed before it occurred. Quiet murmuring right outside the door, before it was flung open with a gusto that forced Johnny’s head to shoot up from the tomb of his hands. 

There, standing in the doorway and looking around appraisingly, was a young woman of roughly twenty years. Grasped in gloved hands were a large bag and a notebook, neither of which looked to be in particularly good condition. She was clad in a grey suit jacket and a conservative style of skirt, while her hair was neatly tucked into her woven hat. But it was her face that struck Johnny the most: long and thin, like the hares he saw occasionally. 

“I thought this cabin was unoccupied, sorry about that,” she apologised snippily, but it was her voice that caused Johnny to start. The nasally inflections in her vowels practically dragged Johnny by his hair back to the outskirts of West London, and his face twisted into a brief grimace. 

“It’s fine,” he forced out. Just leave , he wanted to add, but he bit his tongue before it could slip out. 

“I’m Judith Elton, with the London Evening Standard,” she continued her prattling, and Johnny felt the profound spike of horror in his very soul. His very body seemed to be collapsing inwards. A reporter . “Are you going to San Diego for the Steel Ball Run too?”

“No,” he lied tersely. He was looking everywhere but her eyes at this point: a fervid prayer to get her to go away . She paused at that, and Johnny saw her gaze move to his folded wheelchair tucked under his seat, then to his face. His heart sank. 

(“ A new overwhelming sensation was gaining more and more mastery over him every moment; this was an immeasurable, almost physical, repulsion for everything surrounding him, an obstinate, malignant feeling of hatred .”)

“Could you be Johnny Joestar, the ex-jockey?” she marvelled, flipping open her notebook. In her eyes was the wild look of glee of reporters who had just found their big break. Johnny felt nothing but disgust at that pivotal moment.

“Unfortunately, no,” he denied evenly. It was getting harder and harder to quash the resentment that welled up within him. 

“You look more gaunt and ragged, that’s for sure,” she surveyed him critically. Shut up , shut up , he wanted to yell. But once again, his voice betrayed him. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried again. There was nowhere to escape to, nowhere to hide from the rising ebb and flow of panic threatening to consume him whole. “Please leave.”

“I’d recognise those haunting azure eyes anywhere,” she rambled obliviously, waving her pencil around in punctuation. “I can’t leave this story when you’re so clearly going to San Diego for the beginning of the race. Reminiscing about your glory days?” 

If she hadn’t looked at him while she said it, he might’ve continued to attempt to pacify her. It had been so long since he was anything but passive. But that glint in her eye – she didn’t even see him as a person , but a relic that she could still squeeze out for a story. It was sickening; it was wildly entitled . 

Simply put, she was provoking him until he made her a story – “ Ex-jockey ‘Joe Kid’ attacks journalist over bitterness with the Steel Ball Run ”. He was no longer human in her eyes – nothing deserving of any respect. Ink on paper . A ticket to a name as a reporter. If this had been right after he was shot, he might’ve quietly conceded. But currently, there was nothing but a seething rage where his heart was. 

(“ But science says: love yourself before all, for everything in this world is based on self-interest. ”)

“Lady,” he enunciated with cold fury. He didn’t love himself, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her use him to fuel her own selfish whims. He knew she saw the flip in character. He could see it in the rise of those plucked brows, in the tightening of those thin lips, and especially in the narrowing of her eyes. “ Fuck off .”

And he could see the minute when his remark hit her ears: the muscles of her shoulders tightened like a compressed spring, and he could see the rolling whites of her eyes as she glowered at him with an unrestrained venom. There goes your ticket to fame , he thought as his lips curled into a spiteful, defiant smile. There goes your golden story . Then, to really drive it home, he raised his eyebrows in good-natured amusement. This was his victory. Judith Elton had lost.  

“Good day,” he dismissed her, but she wouldn’t budge from where she was seemingly frozen to the maroon carpet. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

It was probably that provocation that pushed her to the very edge. She shook with anger: veritably trembled with it. 

“How dare you,” she gritted out, raising her arm as if to strike him. He looked at her levelly. “ How dare- ”

“Is there a problem, sir?”

It was the steward. Johnny let go of the cord by the window and gave him a polite smile, one that practically screamed of tired innocence. Perfect . Judith’s eyes widened in abject incredulity; her arm was still raised in the picture of someone on the verge of violence. 

“Unfortunately, yes. My peace has been disturbed,” he explained simply. His voice, timid from disuse, was just the right wobbling frequency that the steward looked at him with concern, then to the reporter with exasperation. She lowered her arm sheepishly. 

“I’ll get her escorted to another car,” he promised, and Johnny heaved a sigh of relief. As the steward turned around to face the corridor, he met her eyes with a stony glare. 

“ Don’t come near me again, Judith Elton ,” he mouthed. It was an empty threat, but she looked away in angry shame regardless. Finally, the door closed, and everything was quiet again. 

It was only when he was truly sure nobody else would intrude upon him that he sank back into the seat. Though he had carefully kept it under wraps, his heart was racing uncontrollably and his hands were shaking. The sour taste of vomit was intruding in his heaving mouth, and even his palms were clammy with cold sweat. 

(“ ‘Enough, enough, Sonia, enough! Let me be!’ he cried in a sudden spasm of agony. ‘Let me be!’” )

  His fingers desperately raked over his face in a fruitless attempt to cool down his feverish cheeks; they beat with such a heavy pulse that his very mind was spinning rapidly. He felt sick, down to the very marrow of his bones, but he had won – something so small it was insignificant, but victory was his nonetheless . 

In that brief exchange, he had found a fragment of his voice. 

Those nails dug and twisted back into his face, pressing down on his eyelids in a forceful caress; his muscles were shivering, shivering with adrenaline. Even his blue lips – glum as they usually were – had tugged themselves into an arrangement that looked like a distant relative of a smile . It was twisted, sure; he’d just found a scrap of satisfaction in standing his ground vindictively. But he had a voice . 

It wasn’t happiness he felt. No, Johnny’s teeth peeked out his lips in exhausted relief: the kind that swept through one after finishing a particularly gruelling project or job. In his case, it had felt like he had just crossed the goal of a strenuous training session – full of determination and hope . He hadn’t lost.

There was still a chance of regaining the boy he used to be. 

(“ Accept suffering and redeem yourself by it, that’s what you must do .”)

And surely, that meant there was still a chance of redemption. 

Thoughts swarmed his mind as the sun began to clamber down the horizon; he was drowning in the words that weighed down his brain, but there was nothing he could grasp at: not a syllable that was coherent enough to follow, not even an emotion he could latch onto desperately. 

All that his mind could comprehend was the ever-shifting landscape before him. Paint-strokes of crimson backlit the clouds until they looked like bloody rags; something that had always reminded him of Nicholas had never appeared so beautiful. Orange washed over the tears in his eyes until it was all he could see, all he could understand . Plumes of sanguine danced in the salty kaleidoscope refracting his sight – it was all he could imagine, all he could grasp at with his trembling arms. 

His hands slumped to his sides, dropping his knitted cap near his feet. A wave of nostalgia buffeted his very soul until he could barely think – let alone attempt to rationalise it. It wasn’t much, only a fragment from his childhood: the petrichor smell of an English forest, foraging around looking for interesting plants with Nicholas, and a tangerine sky just like this one. 

(“ For no reason, but the sunrise, the bay of Naples, the sea—you look at them and it makes you sad. What’s most revolting is that one is really sad! No, it’s better at home. Here at least one blames others for everything and excuses oneself .”)

He missed it – he missed Nicholas, he missed the freedom he had before, and he missed the feeling of life itself. Had this been enough punishment? Was this plenty ? Have I atoned ? There was no going back to whatever he had; no one would turn back time for him and bring back the dead. 

“I’m sorry, Nicholas,” he repeated for the final time, turning to watch the sun dip beneath the horizon. The watery tracks lining his face had never felt so unburdened.

At the starting line of the Steel Ball Run, he’d accept the cards he was dealt from Fate, and he’d finally move on. 

. 　⁺ ✦

It had been noon the next day when he finally got off the clanking metal beast; the locomotive had come to a grinding, screeching halt and roused him from another dreamless sleep. Despite all that had happened yesterday, he had fallen asleep as soon as he drew the covers over himself. A small mercy, but he was grateful nonetheless. 

The first thing he noticed was how much warmer San Diego was compared to Kentucky. Arid wind stirred the hair at the nape of his neck and left him feeling the awful mixture of a feverish heat that clung to his skin. When he put his hands on his lap, he could feel the warm sweat seeping through the dusty blue fabric of his pants. 

The second thing he noticed was the amount of reporters lounging around in the taverns; after all, the race was in less than a few weeks, and prospective jockeys were already trickling into town to scope out the starting line. He avoided both parties.

It was with no small relief that he checked into a cheap hotel that had a functioning elevator. The sparse room upstairs was no paradise, but it was private. And that was all that really mattered – seclusion had been his happiness for the past three years. 

Even though he’d overslept the night before, a small dinner was all it took to make him lethargic again. Soon after he ate, the bustle of the town had lulled him into a sleepy stupor that was rather difficult to escape from. So he didn’t even try. 

. 　⁺ ✦

[jojosleftyadventure]

Welcome!

About:

This is a blog for my Jojo fan part starting Joseph Joestar's severed left hand as the protagonist. There is no title yet, but I do have a basic outline for the plot.

Who is this hand guy?

This "hand guy" is named George Joestar III, but he prefers to go by his nickname, Joja. After plummeting to Earth, he landed right besides Joseph before being recovered to be reattached. This does not go as planned, as the bandaged limb started moving on its own. After spending time with his temporarily bedridden owner (Joseph), and Suzi Q, he learned to come to terms with his sentience and aspires to be a proper member of the Joestar family and Joseph's new (unorthodox) son.

How old is Joja?

While Joja is physically the same age as his father, and he was sorta "born" an adult. He doesn't really develop like a human would, though, as he has all of the memories of being Joseph's hand, but he only became sentient recently. It's like booting up a new computer with stuff from your old PC in its hard drive. I suppose it's just the nature of an artificial life like this?

Does he eat? Does he poop?

Yes and no. Joja is a being created via a cocktail of Hamon, weird pillar man bullshit, and Super Aja energy. So like, his body is really weird morphologically since he's a talking hand. Don't take it too seriously, Araki throws logic out the window and I will too.

How does Joja...do anything?

Joja gets around with a combo of crawling on his fingers, climbing, and using hamon to boost himself upwards. Trust him, he's a pretty talented little guy.

No, I mean, how can you make a fan part about a body part? What's wrong with you?

First, keep your pants on, second, I have a lovely laundry list of mental illnesses. You don't need to tell me I'm cringe or crazy, your mom told me that last night, now eat your vegetables, son.

Are you open to RP?

I'M A SLUT FOR RP, DAWG. This is also a bit of an ask blog too. Talk to my little boy!

Where does this take place on the timeline?

Joja was "born" February 28th, 1939 (Pisces baby!). This blog will primarily be set in like 1940, but if you have questions about him interacting with characters in the future, I can bend the rules a bit. (He, like Joseph, is alive in the Phantom Bloodverse up until Pucci did Pucci things, so he'd be familiar with the whole crew.)

Okay, how do family relations work out with Joja?

Grab some popcorn and take a seat. Basically, Joja is treated like a son by Joseph. I know that if your hand came to life and started talking, they would sort of genetically be your clone (like a twin brother or something), but in this world, Joja is one of Joseph's three kids. With that being the case, Holly is his baby sister and Suzi Q is sort of a mother figure to him. That also means that he is Jotaro's uncle and Jolyne's grunkle. As for Giorno... you do the math. I'm sorry I threw a hand-shaped monkey wrench into the Joestar family tree.

What about Josuke?

In this universe, Joseph has a better head on his shoulders and doesn't go around fucking Japanese college students (Without protection). Instead, Joja met Tomoko and really hit it off with her in Morioh. She's his wife! As for Josuke, Joseph is his surrogate father, on account of Joja lacking reproductive organs (since he's a hand).

Boy Reference

[sad-nooting-tuna]

This is George Joestar III (But he goes by Joja) After plummeting back to Earth after defeating Kars, he was recovered alongside Joseph to be reattached by the Speedwagon Foundation, but they had a bit of a change of plans after the hand started ambulating on its own. He quickly became good company for Joseph while he was bedridden and recovering from his injuries, though, and he sees Joja as a son.

I'm glad you like my doodles! I actually have a similar fan concept where Joseph's left hand comes to life after being sliced off by Kars. Would you like to see him?

Sure!! Let's see that hand o.o

Magic is all across the land here in Jojo world!

[cesca-untoldstories]

Jotacesca SBR when?

🚨STEEL BALL RUN SPOILERS!🚨

they are not a fundamental part of SBR but the more you know, the more questions you will have hahah. George III and Lisa Lisa are the soft and clean version of Jotacesca hahaha

[sundove88]

Leongar (Shrek Parody) Casting

Once upon a time, in a far away city, there lived an lion named Leongar whose precious solitude is suddenly shattered by an invasion of annoying fairy tale characters. They were all banished from their kingdom by the evil Zagred. Determined to save their home -- not to mention his -- Leongar cuts a deal with Zagred and sets out to rescue Princess Clawroline to be Zagred’s bride. Rescuing the Princess may be small compared to her deep, dark secret.

After returning from their honeymoon and showing home movies to their friends, Leongar and Clawroline learn that her parents have heard that she has married her true love and wish to invite him to their kingdom, called Far Far Away. The catch is: Clawroline’s parents are unaware of the curse that struck their daughter and have assumed she married Dio Brando, not a 700-pound lion with horrible hygiene and a talking dragon pal.

When King George suddenly croaks, Leongar learns he will have to rule the land of Far, Far Away, unless he can find a suitable heir to the throne. The most-promising candidate is Princess Clawroline’s cousin Dedede, a teenage slacker in a medieval high-school. Leongar and his trusted companions, Qibli and Hovernyan, set out to bring Dedede back but find their mission is a bigger challenge than they expected.

Long-settled into married life and fully domesticated, Leongar begins to long for the days when he felt like a real lion. Duped into signing a contract with devious Giygas, he finds himself in an alternate version of Far Far Away, where lions are hunted, Giygas rules, and he and Clawroline have never met. Leongar must find a way out of the contract to restore his world and reclaim his true love.

Leongar as Ogre!Shrek (Kirby)

Johnathan Joestar as Human!Shrek (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure)

Qibli as Donkey (Wings of Fire)

Shining Armor as Stallion!Donkey (My Little Pony)

Suzie Q as Human!Princess Fiona (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure)

Clawroline as Ogre!Princess Fiona (Kirby)

George as King Harold (Earthbound)

Politoed as Frog!King Harold (Pokemon)

Maria as Queen Lillian (Earthbound)

Hovernyan as Puss in Boots (Yo-Kai Watch)

Zagred as Lord Farquadd (Black Clover)

Maleficent as The Fairy Godmother (Maleficent)

Moonwatcher as Dragon (Wings of Fire)

Hyness as Thelonious (Kirby)

Dio Brando as Prince Charming (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure)

Gingerbrave as Gingy (Cookie Run)

Gingerbright, Skater Cookie, Strawberry Cookie, Zombie Cookie, Alchemist Cookie, Vampire Cookie, Wizard Cookie, Custard Cookie III, and Chili Pepper Cookie as Themselves/Gingy’s Friends (Cookie Run)

Dozer as Mongo (Cookie Run)

Chef Kawasaki as The Muffin Man (Kirby)

Plusle, Minun, and Pichu as The 3 Blind Mice (Pokemon)

Barktholomew as Big Bad Wolf (Balan Wonderworld)

Yuri Brand as Herself/Little Red Riding Hood (Balan Wonderworld)

Gramble Gigglefunny as Pinocchio (Bugsnax)

Lechonk, Tepig, and Sproink as The Three Little Pigs (Pokemon)

Cal Suresh as Sir Lancelot (Balan Wonderworld)

King Dedede as Artie (Kirby)

Giygas as Rumpelstiltskin (Earthbound)

Licorice Cookie as Pied Piper (Cookie Run)

Cookiemals as Farkle, Fergus, and Felicia (Cookie Run)

Various Characters as the Fairytale Characters + Citizens

Here’s your hint for the next Crossover Casting (It’s Netflix):

🐉🏙🍜

[duhragonball]

JoJolion Ch. 23-25

Okay, hear me out...

Last time, Yasuho was screwing around near Meditation Pine, near the Higashikata Mansion and the spot where she first met Josuke, when she got pulled into a hole and some shadowy figure licked her ear. We pick up now in the "Paper Moon Deception" arc, which finds her in what looks like a finished basement, except the Higashikata's home is like a hundred feet away from it.

With her is Tsurugi Higashikata, the grandchild of Norisuke Higashikata IV. Yasuho presses the kid for an explanation, but Tsurgui just gives cryptic non-answers, and when Yasuho gets physical, Tsurugi reveals that he's actually a boy. Yasuho's known the family for most of her life, but she didn't know this.

Tsurugi explains that this is an old Higashikata family tradition. We learned from the legend of Johnny Joestar that there's a curse that runs in the Higashikata family. The curse manifests as a "Rock disease" which afflicts the firstborn children of the family. Johnny's wife Rina Higashikata had it, and it was so deadly an incurable that Johnny resorted to using the Saint Corpse to try to save her.

It's possible that when Johnny purged the Rock Disease from Rina (and their son George), he may have broken the curse on their side of the family, and their descendants were spared its effects. It's also possible that the curse affected the Joestars the same way, since the symptoms Rina experienced in 1901 seem similar to what Holly Joestar Kira is dealing with in 2011.

But the main Higashikata line is definitely still stuck with the Rock Disease. Norisuke I returned from America to invest his prize money into the fruit import business, which he left to his eldest son Norisuke II, who passed it on to his son, Norisuke III, and on down to Norisuke IV. Jobin is the next in line to inherit the family business, and Tsurugi is the next in line after that.

Incidentally, in case you're wondering why Jobin and Tsurugi weren't named Norisuke V and VI, the tradition is that each successor changes his name when they assume control of the household. Norisuke II, III, and IV's birth names were Johei, Josho, and Josuke, respectively.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. The curse hits the firstborn child with the Rock Disease. If the firstborn is a girl, it seems to happen later in life, but with boys, it always strikes when they reach the age of ten. Norisuke II and III had older sisters, so they were spared, but Norisuke IV and Jobin are the eldest of their generations so... hmmm. And Tsurugi is the eldest child of his generation, so he's probably going to die of the Rock Disease by the age of ten. He's nine right now.

One trick the family has used over the centuries is to raise the eldest son as a girl until the age of 12. I'm not sure what the point of this is, unless it's just a desperate attempt to trick the Rock Disease into thinking Tsurugi's a girl, so he won't get sick. Then when he turns 12, he can live as a boy again, and the Rock Disease can't touch him because now it's too late. And you know, it might have worked once or twice, which is why the tradition continues into the 21st century.

Anyway, Yasuho just wants to leave this place, but Tsurugi hid her cell phone.

As she searches for the phone, she gets desperate to make contact with Josuke, probably from the stress she's under, and this activates her Stand, Paisley Park. It makes some sort of subtle contact with Josuke, and he "realizes" that he could send Yasuho an e-mail. He's using Joshuu's phone, and Yasuho won't take Joshuu's calls because he's a terrible person, but Josuke thinks an e-mail might work if he can convince her he's not Joshuu. So he signs it off as "4 Balls" which seems like a weird thing to use as an in-joke.

Meanwhile, Yasuho gets her phone back, but Tsurugi has used it to activate his Stand, Paper Moon King. Yasuho doesn't even know about her own Stand yet, so she doesn't understand what he's talking about, but she does know he did something to her. She leaves, but not before checking out the other rooms in the building. There's one with a bunch of toys and what looks like a replica of Josuke's sailor suit for some reason. It also has a toilet in the room, which reminds her of a prison cell.

Also she sees a weird dog on her way out.

She finally gets Josuke's message and realizes its him because he wants to meet at the Sesame Honey Cafe, which she recognizes as a reference to the snacks she got him in the hospital in Chapter 2. The "4-Balls" thing is completely lost on her, though. Now I'm wondering if Josuke even noticed he had written that the way he did. The translator note said he wrote something using characters that could be read as "4-Balls" so maybe the pun was unintentional.

On the other hand, it's funny that Yasuho doesn't seem to recognize the significance, since she was the one who couldn't stop thinking about it when she saw his groin for the first time. I guess she finally got over it.

Anyway, Paper Moon King affects Yasuho's perception of people's faces. On the way back to town, she notices everyone has the same weird face, but she thinks is her contacts, so she heads home to get new ones, and when she sees her mom she thinks some stranger broke into their home. It's not until she sees her own face distorted like this that she begins to understand something strange is happening.

Now, recently I read that there's a real-life condition very similar to this. It's called prosopometamorphopsia, also known as PMO or "demon face syndrome", and people who have the disorder will see people's faces as being distorted in certain ways. CNN did an article about it a few weeks ago, and the first thing I thought of was this arc in JoJolion. I don't know if this is where Araki got the idea for Paper Moon King, but it seems like a strange coincidence.

Upset by all of this, Yasuho decides her best bet is to head for the Sesame Honey Cafe right now, even though it isn't dinnertime yet. But she keeps running into Tsurugi, who offers to help her if she wants it. Yasuho angrily tells Tsurugi to stop following her. She knows whatever's going on is Tsurugi's doing. I mean, for one thing, Tsurugi's face is the only one that she can still recognize.

Again, Yasuho doesn't know this is a Stand power, nor is she aware of her own Stand, or she might try using Paisley Park to find some way to break the spell. I guess knocking Tsurugi out would cancel the effect, but I don't think she's desperate enough to punch a kid. PP could probably come up with an alternative, but Yasuho doesn't know that yet. As it is, she thinks Tsurugi slipped her some kind of drug.

Tsurugi offers an alternative explanation: Maybe the reason she can't communicate with her mother is the same reason she's investigating things like Josuke and the Higashikata Family. She doesn't know who she is or where she belongs, so maybe she's projecting those feelings onto Josuke, which is why she's so invested in his predicament.

Speaking of Josuke, he's approacing the same cafe, because Yasuho called and asked to meet her there early because she's scared, but he steps on one of Tsurugi's origami frogs, which puts him under the same spell as Yasuho. But Josuke's kind of used to not knowing who anyone is, so this doesn't bother him as much. Also, this is like the fourth or fifth Stand he's had to deal with, so this isn't anything new for him.

Joshuu finds him in the street and takes back his cell phone, but Josuke doesn't recognize him so he doesn't even know what's going on.

Well, at least they're heading for the same place, so that at least gives them a chance of linking up and dealing with the problem together, except, no. Yasuho's in the wrong place. The sign said "Sesame Honey Cafe", but when she goes inside she finds a record store. It's not just faces that have become unrecognizable. Now she's got some sort of aphasia, where everything she reads looks like it says "Sesame Honey Cafe".

Things get even worse when she runs into Joshuu, and mistakes him for Josuke. She even calls out Josuke's name, and Joshuu thinks she's saying "Joshuu suki", or "I love you, Joshuu." Or maybe Joshuu is just hearing what he wants to hear.

Yasuho asks him to take her someplace away from people, where they can be alone, and Joshuu thinks she wants to have sex, so he takes her to a men's room. Classy as ever.

Then he takes off his pants and tries to corner her in the stall. He uses his new Stand to dismantle her clothes, which... Man, this guy is the worst. Eventually she realizes it's not Josuke, but I don't think she ever finds out this is Joshuu.

He only stops when she finally says Josuke's name loud enough for him to recognize it, and while he tries to figure out why, she bashes his head in with the toilet tank cover. This is one of the best panels in the story.

Yasuho then tries to seek help from some nearby policemen, but when she gets in their squad car, she finds out they're not cops at all, but just a trio of... well, I don't know what their deal is, but their immediate reaction to Yasuho is to drive off with her and force her to swallow drugs so they can have their way with her. In her desperation, she subconciously uses Paisley Park to escape. It comes out of the floorboard of the car and breaks the ankle of the driver, and this causes them to crash into a telephone pole.

I think Yasuho runs into her mom again, but at this point I'm not sure of anything she sees. By now, the effect of Paper Moon King is so intense that Yasuho can't discern words, faces, voices, or even clothes and vehicles. If she thought those creeps were police officers, then how can we be sure that woman in the dress is her mom?

And that's why Yasuho finally begs Tsurugi to help her. Before she was blaming Tsurugi for doing this to her, but now she's so lost and confused that she'll accept anything to get out of this mess.

And that seems to have been Tsurugi's goal all along. He wanted her to stay in the underground building, and when he couldn't stop her from leaving, he used his Stand to torment her until she had no other alternative but to follow him back. That's pretty damn cruel, but we see a mysterious figure watching them from one of the other rooms, and it seems like that guy might be the one pulling the strings here. For some reason, Tsurugi wants a sample of Yasuho's hair, and I bet this dude is the one who asked for it.

Oh, and Josuke's still back in the city. The Stand effect wore off when Tsurugi left, so Josuke realizes that he was never the target. But he knows Yasuho was also in the area, which means whoever was behind Paper Moon King was using it against her. So at least he has some idea what's going on...

[starry-blue-echoes]

number 8 for Johnnt Joestar

8. a post-canon headcanon

Johnny would tell his kid ALL about his adventures during the Steel Ball Run Race. He toned down the heavier stuff to make it more kid friendly(and also so his wife wouldn't kill him), but he'd go on for hours about all the magic and craziness that happened during those three months.

He'd especially talk about Gyro, the highs, the lows, what he taught him, all his jokes, and just how many times they'd saved each other. He wanted to make sure that at least a few people knew of what Gyro had done and what he'd sacrificed for the good of everyone

(Rina and George III know about the Stand aspect of things and that Johnny isn't fully normal. He didn't want to hide it from them and saw them being aware as a better way to keep them safe)