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stellamortua · 8 days ago

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"Absolutely, Robert!" Jonathan nodded his head in nearly childlike earnest, from his velvet covered seat opposite from the ruffian, "It means the world to me that you are willing to take me here in my current condition."

Jonathan was not oblivious to how Speedwagon kept glancing at him like he was broken. He appreciated the sentiment, but he was a strong young man. Recovering from his physical injuries was not his biggest challenge. It was his social situation that plagued him. As one would expect, being the sole inheritor to the massive Joestar enterprise brought with it a menagerie of suddenly very interested parties knocking on his hospital room door: Law enforcement wishing to look into the fire's cause, debtors hoping to wring out the extra coin, his father's old business partners informing him of their conveniently single daughters, and fraud investigators with vested interest in his father's insurance on the manor were among the parade of visitors constantly vying for his time. Perhaps the most insulting of all was the constant stream of self proclaimed relatives he'd never heard of. It only further dampened Jonathan's spirits to see how quickly the masses descended upon an opportunity for profit.

Luckily for Jonathan, he had the best guardians imaginable in his father's longtime lawyer, the fiercely loyal Robert E.O. Speedwagon and the sharp tongued Erina Pendleton. Hearing the normally reserved nurse verbally bear her fangs at anyone foolish enough to disturb her patient was enough to make any grown man shake in his boots. It made Jonathan uncomfortable to be so fiercely advocated for because he wasn't used to having anyone on his side. Still though, he very much appreciated the opportunity to rest and work with his lawyer that their vigils provided.

Unfortunately, hours of downtime also meant extensive rumination. Eventually his thoughts were consumed with nightmares of that terrible night. Of cradling his father's bloody corpse in his arms. That alone made sleeping difficult. It was painful enough to sign both his father and brother's death certificates, and notify the Manor servants' next of kin while putting his admittedly small world on hold. Jonathan had an exceptionally difficult time writing that letter to inform his professors that he would be putting his academic pursuits on hold for a while. He had worked so hard to achieve something that he alone could do, only for Dio to rip it away. Again.

Dio...

Thinking of his adopted brother made his plump lips turn downward as he shakily followed Speedwagon out of the carriage with one usable arm. The absence of Dio's and the Stone Mask's charred remains never stopped gnawing at his brain. It was enough to make sitting in his bed unbearable. He needed answers. Jonathan wanted to see firsthand where Dio came from. To understand the conditions that helped mold the blond into the wretched monster he and Speedwagon flushed out into the open that cold night. The Joestar knew his brother was a Londoner just like Speedwagon, but he did not know exactly where. He had long learned not to ask else his life be made arduous for a week at minimum. What little Jonathan knew was gleamed from his father.

And thus he came to Speedwagon with this admittedly bold request.

The gentleman did not exactly know what to expect when they arrived. It was an endless maze of brick, mortar and wood. It took him some convincing to actually trespass through a stranger's yard, and house no less! Jonathan was more than thankful that all he had on were the well used hand me downs given to him by sympathetic visitors. Everything he had to wear had been lost in the flames. That said, Jonathan did his best to shield his arm under his coat to protect it from any... unsanitary obstacle they may have to encounter.

Just in time, too, for their route narrowed to nearly an unbearable level.The physical exertion was of no issue to Jonathan. It was an actually welcome change to being cooped up in a small hospital room. The problem was the environment's unaccommodating nature for someone of Jonathan's abnormal size. Every step carried the risk of stepping in or brushing against a wet, foul surface. He just tried not to think about each one's origins.

The constant turns and passageways soon robbed Jonathan of any sense of direction. His safety was now completely in Speedwagon's hands. Eventually their constant weaving through the stone jungle led them to a cluttered room in total disarray. And, apparently their point of separation. For now.

The Englishman nodded quietly, his sapphire hues wide with amazement at how nimbly his guide wrangled himself out of the window. Was his lung not punctured in the fire? He did not get a chance to ask Robert this, for he was soon left alone. It was dark and eerily silent around him. The silence was pierced by the faint sound of a dog barking from somewhere in the distance.

Jonathan was admittedly innocent to the problems of those outside his social class, but he wasn't stupid. Rather than investigate and get lost, he chose to slowly meander about the small room. His archaeologist heart could not help but examine the clutter of abandoned personal effects left behind by the countless people who called this room home. History was more than the thematic talking points of some king or ruler. No, every culture and language around the globe was crafted by the everyday common folk whose names were not chosen by society to survive being eroded by the sands of time. What type of people lived here, he wondered?

He was busy examining a worn child's toy when he heard the sound of whistling from above. Jonathan tensed, looking up. He hated to admit it, but he immediately thought of the fire. His logical side reminded him that Speedwagon was coming back for him. Eventually he could no longer control his impulse.

"Robert?" His voice punctured through the cold silence of the night.

Strutting the Ogre Street

For @stellamortua

“Are you sure about this, Mr. Joestar?” The thug eyed his companion and the sling his arm was in. He’d considered asking Jojo to hide a shiv in it, but imagery of Dio’s treachery made him forego the idea. He had tried to figure out a way to hide the state of Jonathan’s injuries but the poor man was lucky enough to have one arm out of the sling. They couldn’t rush the other.

“My mates will be happy to see us, but there’s still a few who would take a shiv to us.” He reminded Jonathan again, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. Like Jonathan, he was still haunted by flashbacks, but he had more than ghosts of the past to worry about now. Especially with him unable to use his trademark weapon… He’d Liked that hat. He’d worked hard on assembling and balancing it just right…

Unable to argue with his puppy-eyed pal, Robert squared his jaw and shoulders. “Right. Watch your back now. Off we go…”

He hopped out of the carriage, eyed their surroundings, and turned to offer an arm to Jonathan. They’d have to make their way on foot, since the rookery where he lived did not have a direct road to it.

He stayed quiet as he led Jonathan through a maze of alleys, bridges, and even down through what used to be someone’s basement. He’d wondered if his statuesque friend could fit through there but Jonathan wanted the full Old Nichol Street Experience. There wasn’t a more genuine experience than going through someone’s yard, past their latrine, and through their fence. Luckily no one was around to pitch a fit or a bottle at them.

He paused and held his hand out to stop Jonathan. He held his finger to his lips, eyes glittering with warning. Even though anyone they’d face on this street would pale in comparison to the horrors they’d faced at the Joestar mansion, Robert still wished to spare his pal and himself a dustup right now.

The wind was against their backs, which did not assist Robert in his scanning. His friends knew they were coming and would have prepared the way for them, but this one patch of town was particularly rough. Robert had control over most of the gangs in town, but there was always an outlier or two who didn’t agree with how he ran things.

So far so good… But Robert wasn’t taking chances.

“Stay here.” He hissed a whisper.

With that, he pulled himself up a window onto the roof. He knew from experience this roof would hold him. He scanned the area again, and leapt to the next roof. He landed less gracefully than he’d planned but he managed not to cause too much commotion. He wasn’t keen on becoming a street pancake when he was so close to his goal.

Hmm… Where was that panhandler who always lurked on this corner… It had been over a month since Speedwagon left home, and anything could happen in that time, but he was suspicious of change until he knew the logic behind it.

Ah. There he is! Poor boozer had gotten himself another bottle. He should be distracted enough not to raise the alarm, but just in case…

Robert returned to the street and sauntered up to the panhandler, greeting him casually. Per usual, the sod gave him a toothless grin and a few hurried words of respect. Robert tossed him a coin, asked for the gossip on the street, and bid him farewell.

He soon spied the other fellow he was looking for. He approached. Insults were traded. Things grew hot under the collar. And then, just as Robert expected, the bloke backed off. Robert hid his smirk and bid him adieu, ignoring the rude gesture he received in reply.

He made his way back to Jonathan, whistling confidently to himself. There was no need to hide now. They could make their way home unmolested. That is… assuming Jonathan had actually waited like Robert told him to.

#bladedhatsandstars #oh they're absolutely fine #-1000/10 chance that Erina wont give them a piece of her mind when they get back #The Gang Goes to the Hood™#Jonathan being a nerd about visiting a lower class neighborhood is easily the most Victoriancore thing ever and I can't stop laughing #No wonder Dio hates him HOWTISKUDIYDGHLKFKGS #...I need to make a custom tag for Speedy

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