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#so far with vento aureo i have one of the gang surviving

pandas-pandemonium · 5 years

Text

Per Sempre Insieme

Pairing: Yandere!Team Buccellati x Fem!Stand User!Reader

Warnings: Violence, Yandere (in later chapters), Slow Burn, Angst

Setting: Post-Vento Aureo, Everyone Lives!AU, Post-PHF

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 , More to Come

Summary: Catching the eye of the new don of Passioné was the last thing a hitman like yourself wanted to do, but what's worse is that you capture the attention and hearts of five other men too. Along with trying to avenge your sister's death, as well as dealing with six lovesick men, how will you ever survive?

1.6k words

Chapter 1

June 2003, Naples, Italy

Summer, the time of the year Giorno both loved and hated at the same time. Summer was great, mainly because he had summer vacation, allowing him to focus on running Passione during the next three months. However, he couldn’t find the heat enjoyable in the slightest. With the burning sun out at 11 in the morning already, he was regretting his decision to personally visit his favourite restaurant to collect the protection money. Heck, Bruno himself offered to do so, and so did countless other members of the mafia. But for some reason, he denied their offers to perform the task and headed there himself. It wasn’t like there was much danger anyways, few people knew the new don of Passione's face. He did however, bring along Sheila E. as his bodyguard, just to give Bruno peace of mind. The older man just wouldn’t stop insisting he bring someone along for his protection.

He was about halfway to the restaurant when a blur of [H/C] flew right by him and into the alleyway the two happened to pass. Fortunately, the Don recovered quickly enough to see a girl, perhaps not much older than him, pull open a door from the wall and disappeared in a blink of an eye.

“A stand user?” He wondered to himself under his breath. His interest in the passing stand user did not go by Sheila’s eyes as she tilted her head and looked up at the taller male.

“Is there anything you would need me to do, D- Giorno?” she asked, catching herself from addressing her boss by his title just in time. Giorno’s blue eyes shifted to the smaller female, and smiled gently.

“Not at the moment Sheila…Perhaps after we finish what we came here for, then we can look into that…incident,” he said. The girl nodded and resumed walking towards the restaurant.

After an hour or so, the duo walked out of the restaurant, stomachs full from the early lunch they just had, and headed to the alleyway they last saw the [H/C] girl disappear in.

“Sheila, I would like you to use your stand here, so we can figure out who that stand user was, or at least, their motives. It’s been two years, but new stand users are always an asset,” the blonde said. Wordlessly, the bodyguard nodded her head and withdrew her stand, Voodoo Child. Immediately, the stand got to work, furiously punching the wall and ground hard enough that it began to crack open. After a few moments, lips formed from the cracks and began to speak.

“Damn it, when the hell is that darn geezer gonna bank in my pay?! I took out the guy just like he asked me to!”

“Ah man, setting up house here is the worst idea…It’s got the worst view ever! I can barely tell evening from day in the mansion.”

“Ugh! Some assholes decided to spit in front of my doorstep! I swear if I catch them, I’ll beat them to death for it.”

Giorno held up his hand, and Sheila stopped the voices.

“Well, I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to find out, but at the very least it doesn’t seem like the user has left. Perhaps if we stay out here long enough, she should come out again. I would like to see how her stand works, it could be useful for the transportations team,” he said. Giorno then clapped his hands together and headed to leave the dim alleyway, his bodyguard trailing behind.

Upon reaching the Passione base, Giorno immediately called two men to keep watch over that particular alleyway, and to bring the stand user to him directly. It wasn’t much, but he was glad he trusted his intuition to go out this afternoon. After all, if his men succeed in locating and retrieving the stand user, Passione could only benefit from it.

~~~~

It was past two in the morning when you finally finished your job; exterminating a mole in some big business you barely cared for. The CEO paid you big bucks for it, and that was what mattered. You found it amusing how willing the rich and powerful are to go to such dirty means to prevent their secrets from getting out. Now, you were on your way down a street of Naples, heading towards your temporary hideout. Sure, you could simply set up your house any where you want, but the alleyway you chose was near one of your favourite restaurants, which was convenient.

Just as you were approaching the dark alleyway, you froze. There, sitting on a wall, was a man clothed in black, almost unnoticeable for someone who wasn’t trained to see in the dark. You backed up, holding your hands up in a fighting position, ready to defend yourself if necessary.

“Who are you and who sent you?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice level, as to not betray your feelings. Truth be told, you were nervous. Were you really that careless? Who in the world could have sent someone to catch you? Aside from those who related to those who were killed by your hands, you doubt you made many enemies. You were a paid hitman, and you always made sure to cover your tracks so people don’t come after you. So far, no one has traced the assassinations back to you, so who?

The man spoke soon enough, “The Don of Passione wants to recruit you. Consider this a personal invitation into the mafia. Lucky you, you don’t even have to pass a test.” You raised an eyebrow.

The Don of Passione? The new one? Last you heard, Passione changed bosses and the one leading the gang currently was a young man who took over the position as Don when he was only a teenager.

“What the hell does a mafioso want with me? Does he even know who I am?” you asked. The man jumped down from his position and sighed.

“Who knows. What he does know however, is that you may have a pretty useful stand he could have use for. I’m just carrying out orders. If you refuse to come with me, I’m more than willing to use force,” he said, arms crossed. You swallowed. You really had been careless. You completely forgot that there were bound to be other stand users roaming streets of Napoli, and of all people to catch sight of you using your stand, it had to be freaking Passione’s don?

You laughed, “If he thinks I’m going to comply so easily, he mustn’t have very good judgment.” With that, you pulled out your gun. As if you were going to reveal your stand this easily. If the don was that serious about recruiting you, he better had sent one of his best.

“Oh, sweetie, you really think that gun is going to protect you. If you’re a stand user, make it a stand fight!” yelled the man. From the corner of your eye, you saw light grey humanoid-ish shape seep into the pavement below you. Hurriedly you jumped back, your eyes scanning your surroundings, watching out for any signs of attack.

“It’s useless, miss. Once Penny Lane’s taken over any object, there’s no way of avoiding it,” the man calmly spoke. Just then, the concrete under your feet began to warp, slowly melting into a liquid form. Panicking, you searched for higher ground. You had to get off the concrete fast, and uncover his stand’s secret. Internally, you cursed. Of course, an offensive stand type user is sent to get you. Tonight, really wasn’t your night. The ground was rapidly turning to liquid and so were other things around you. If you didn’t get out of the stand’s range fast, you’d be trapped in the concrete.

“Well? Will you draw out your stand or will you keep trying to run through liquid cement?” taunted the man. You cursed under your breath. Well, if the gang member had shown his, you might as well right? So, you turned around, as quickly as you could, as your pants were caked in cement, which was drying fast.

“If I show you my stand you’ll stop right?” you asked, holding up your hands in surrender. The man nodded and you took a deep breath, allowing the light golden spirit to appear beside you. Its eyes were a blank white, and it appeared to be wearing a butler’s suit.

“This is Soul’s Mansion. It’s not a fighting type stand, so don’t worry about me trying to attack you. Now, will you stop this?” you asked as you let your stand disappear. The man shrugged and recalled his stand back. Unfortunately for you, you had made an error in your request. You had asked him to turn the cement back into concrete but had forgotten that you would be stuck ankle deep in the pavement. Flushing an angry red, you panicked.

“W-wait! Turn it back into liquid, I need to get out of here!”

The man raised his eyebrow, “And let you escape? Of course not. You don’t have to worry though; my partner will get you out of there. I hope to see you back at the base,” he called out as he turned to leave, leaving you stuck in the concrete. Just as he left, a woman of significant height walked towards you from the other side of the road.

“It’s a shame it ended so quickly. I was really enjoying seeing your panicked expression. Anyways, as per the boss’s orders, let’s you take you back, shall we?” she said with a smile, her light blue eyes twinkling under the dark sky. You swallowed thickly as you stared up at the woman, a deep feeling of dread pooling in your stomach.

~~~~

A/N: I thought I'd just drop this lol. I was too impatient, and it'll be one thing less on my mind while I work on the other requests. Feedback and questions are greatly appreciated! So are likes and reblogs!

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headoverjojo · 5 years

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Asdfgkfkdl I'm so hyped the ask box is open that I don't know where to start! How about a post vento aureo au scenario? Prosci tries to go unnoticed so gangsters won't pick on him, now that he is less intimidating because of his injuries. But one day, a smart gangster girl guesses his identity. He is wary and agressive at first, but then he realizes she is hitting on him! It doesn't has to be nsfw, but if you feel like adding some, then why not. (I'll come back with more later!!!)

Aaaaaa hiiiii 🧡🧡🧡 As always, it’s a great prompt!! And as always I went wild with 5 google docs pages. Hope you like it!~

Prosciutto has to go unnoticed but a smart gangster girl guesses his identity

(Under the cut for length!)

Prosciutto, even after so much time, couldn’t explain how the hell he managed to survive. Maybe it was his renown stubbornness what it kept him alive. Maybe fate simply decided so.

He needed months to recover. His right eye was lost, as his left leg, crushed under the train’s wheels. His right arm still gave him problems, but, at least, he managed not to lose that limb too. He was… broken. He felt useless. Even more when he heard about the Boss’ defeat and the complete destruction of his old team. He couldn’t go back to Passione, not when he and his team had fought against the actual Don. Even if it wasn’t anything personal against him and, in the end, both the Squadra Esecuzioni and Bucciarati’s team wanted to reach the same goal -oh, the utter irony of it-, he just couldn’t knock at the new Don’s door and ask a place in Passione. This wasn’t how mafia worked.

And so, as soon as he could leave the little clinic he was hidden in, Prosciutto went rogue. It was way more difficult, now that he was blocked in a wheelchair and half blind. He couldn’t fight anymore like he used to, he couldn’t move around as swiftly as before… he felt powerless. Yes, his Grateful Dead was always with him, meaning that he could still be the scaring assassin he was, but… it wasn’t the same. Now, without Pesci, Risotto, all his team… he would have faced better this pain, with them. But facing it all alone, with the knowledge that no one of them had had a proper burial… it was hard. There were days when Prosciutto seriously thought to give up. But then thoughts about what Pesci, Risotto, Sorbetto would have said to him prevented him to do it for real. He was the last member of the Squadra Esecuzioni, their legacy: he couldn’t give up. He had to live for them too.

Still, he couldn’t just go around and hoping nothing would happen to him. He had been an elite member of Passione: even if his identity, as such, was a top secret information, his name and his power were known in the streets. Every gang had at least one member killed by his Grateful Dead. A lot of people would have gladly wanted him dead, both for revenge, both to have the privilege to say they have killed one of the infamous Squadra Esecuzioni. And so, Prosciutto changed name, lived in the shadows, taking every job he could. Small, ridiculous murders, if compared to the ones he was used to execute. In any case, it was better than nothing.

He often changed city, hopping from North to South Italy. Florence, Turin, Milan, Rome, Palermo, Naples, again. He never stayed enough in a city to get accustomed, to become recognizable. He rented small flats which he left totally anonymous, without a trace of customization. Those were just empty shells.

And, right when he came back to Naples, more or less one year after the start of Don Giovanna’s reign, you stumbled in his life. You worked for Squadra Informazioni, so you had access to the most secret informations, such as the ones about the ex Squadra Esecuzioni. You were fascinated by those people and their abilities. They had faced the Don’s team… just in the end they had found out that also the Squadra wanted to kill the Boss. On Don Giovanna’s face was clear the regret and the stupor. If only they had known it…

The only one whose state was unknown was Prosciutto. You didn’t know if it was his real name: in his file there was just his name -or nickname-, the name of his stand, a brief description of its power -implemented thanks to the witnesses of the Don’s team- and a blurred photography of him. You could just see he had blond hair and wore an elegant suit, but not much more. They were top elite assassins not for anything, all in all. They were ghosts even for the same Passione.

Your curiosity won over you and you decided to search for him. As you entered home, sighing, you noticed that the flat near yours, empty ‘till the day before, wasn’t now so empty. Even if no sound escaped the one room flat, the lights on were the clear sign that someone was inside. And, as the good neighbor you were, you decided to pay a visit.

You rang the bell, waiting, humming. After a little, a low rummaging came from behind the door and, finally, it was open. Your eyes widened slightly, when you found in front of you a man on a wheelchair. His left leg wasn’t here anymore and his right eye was covered by an eyepatch. His other eye, a stunning light blue, pierced you, intense as a hawk’s one.

“Who are you?” you snapped back, hearing his voice, and you smiled, embarrassed for staring.

“I’m your neighbor, I came to say hello and welcome here! I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure, signor…?” you trailed off, tending your hand to him. He didn’t take it, still staring at you, his only eye shadowed by golden locks -no, not golden, it was a lighter blond-.

“Rossi. Thank you. Have a good evening.” he said, briefly, before withdrawing and closing the door on your face. You blinked, surprised, before shaking your head and going back to your flat. Woah, rude…

You didn’t see your neighbor for few days. He wasn’t here, during the day -and you knew thanks to your stand- and sometimes he was out for good part of the night. He wasn’t a drunkard, or you would have heard noise from his flat, which, instead, was always silent as a grave. He almost seemed… a ghost.

This thought was what made you start to connect the dots. A ghost… he was wary and always watched his back, as a trained soldier -or as a mafioso-. He knew how to escape even from your stand’s patrol, choosing carefully the points where it couldn’t see -and this meant he was a stand user, if he could see where your stand did its patrol. Blond hair… and those injuries were strange. You had, however, to reread the whole report about the train’s fight. You couldn’t go around accusing people to be assassins without any proof.

But, when you did, your face grew paler, as you read about the injuries sustained by Prosciutto. His right eyes was lost and Bucciarati managed to crush his left leg under the train’s rails. His right arm too, but he wasn’t sure. The team left here him and his teammate, Pesci, to escape also from Passione’s cleaning squad, which always entered the game when a member of the organization was involved in a murder -both in case they were the victim or the executioner-.

The cleaning squad never found Prosciutto’s body.

Could you possibly were living next to one of the most powerful and feared assassins of all Italy?

You couldn’t live with the doubt.

And so, gaining all your courage, that evening you went to knock again at his door. You knew he was at home, after seeing the lights on. As the first time, after a little rummaging, the door opened and the blonde’s eye darkened, seeing you. Before he could even speak, however, you started.

“I know who you are.” you declared, staring at him. The man quirked his only visible brow, unimpressed, even if, inside, he was tense. How could that girl discovered him?! But maybe she was bluffing. Calm down, Prosciutto. You have the upper hand.

“I told you the first day. I’m Rossi.” he replied, with a plain tone. You frowned, not giving up. You couldn’t, not now. Meanwhile, you analyzed the man in front of you, his injuries, his face, still really pleasant despite the missing eye… you tried to imagine him with the rail of small man buns Bucciarati said he had, instead of this short hair.

“You’re Prosciutto, the last of the Squadra d’Esecuzione. You lost your limbs against Bucciarati. And your stand-” you stopped, gulping, when you saw that stand behind the man. It was even scarier of what you had imagined.

“Choose carefully your last words, little girl.” he said, in a low and dangerous voice, as the fog slowly neared you. You knew that, if he would have wanted, he could have killed you in a matter of minutes, almost as fast as Purple Haze, the Don’s Consigliere’s stand. You had to act, even if you were paralyzed by fear.

“I- I don’t want to hurt you.” you stuttered, making him bitterly laugh, as The Grateful Dead came nearer and nearer.

“Hurt me? Don’t make me laugh, little girl.” he barked, slowly nearing the wheelchair to your frozen figure. You swallowed hard, as fear clenched your stomach. You… you never found yourself in a situation like this. You always were on the backstage, thanks to your smart and quick brain you managed to enter the Squadra Informazioni… but this was totally different. Being on field was utterly terrifying.

“I’m not going to denounce you! I- I just want to know!” those words stopped him on his track. You wanted to know? What-

“Know what?” he looked around, his healthy eye darting from right to left, cautious and wary. He retired in the flat, leaving you space to enter, and you did so, following him and closing the door behind you. He didn’t fear to have you so near; on the contrary, the more you were near, the more it would have been easy to kill you in few seconds.

“About you and the Squadra. There’s so little about you all… “ you said, deciding that lying wouldn’t have brought anything good. Lying to an assassin was always a bad idea.

“More about me and the Squadra, uh? Such a strange girl…” he muttered, studying your movements, wary. You noticed that, even if he was blocked on a wheelchair, even if he seemed broken and weak, he was far from this. His body was tense, ready to attack. You suspected that he hid a knife, somewhere near his good hand.

He wasn’t someone to underestimate. Under that broken shell, he was still the assassin who hunted the nightmares of many other gangs.

“I work for Passione. But- I have no intention to reveal your location. I just want to know, for real. Nothing more.” you said, staring in his bright azure eye. He stared at you for few moments, serious and wary.

“Try to tell this to someone, and I’ll hunt you until you’ll be dust.” he said, deadly serious. You swallowed, quickly nodding: you knew he would have absolutely done it. He wasn’t one of empty promises.

“I’m not stupid.” you replied, with an annoyed tone to hide the fear that had clenched your guts. Prosciutto’s cold eye studied you for a little, before slowly nodding.

“Come here tomorrow at the same hour. We’ll talk.” he ordered, before weaving you off. You almost didn’t even register what was happening if not when you were already in the landing, his door again closed on your face. You huffed, marching back to your flat, trembling a bit from tension. It had been an… an interesting encounter…

But you went, the day after. And the one after, and so on, so on. Prosciutto was wary and suspicious, in the beginning. Of course, you thought: he was always on the run, he couldn’t be different. Still, he seemed also curious. He didn’t understand your utterly interest towards him and his team, without any double goal. You just wanted to know for the sake of knowledge.

Talking about his comrades was hard. Guilt still gripped his heart, an obvious grief was still all on him and it showed when he talked about them, even if his tone was mostly plain and neutral. Still, you weren’t stupid. You saw the pain in his traits.

Slowly, as days, weeks, months passed by, Prosciutto started to relax, around you. Maybe he was starting to trust you, after so much time. Maybe his loneliness was becoming too overwhelming and, as human, he needed some company. No man was made to live alone, all in all.

But, as he started to open up to you, he finally noticed how you acted. Because you weren’t immune to his innate charisma and charm. He emanated an incredible energy, even if his body was broken. His experience was incredible, his stories amazing. Gruesome, gory, but amazing. He was smart, intelligent. Almost without noticing, you started to flirt with him, brushing your fingers on his, softly staring at his face, using a sweeter tone, winking at him. Just when he felt safer around you he started to notice these gestures and, oh, they made him feel so flustered.

He wasn’t used to it anymore, even if, a life ago, he was the most coveted in all the city. Everyone seemed to want to have a certain dance with him and he didn’t deny it, with his usual charming smirk. But, after the accident… people watched him with pity. Oh, poor man, they thought. What a terrible accident. He didn’t want their pity, he hated it. He just wanted to be considered normal, as before the fight. And you did so.

He never saw pity in your eyes, just sincere interest. Even admiration. You didn’t see the broken man on a wheelchair, without an eye… you saw him for who he was. And, slowly, when he felt more comfortable with you around, he started to flirt back.

What were just barely brushes became touches. Flirts grew heavier and heavier, to the point that, one night, after the usual couple of hours of stories and heavy flirts, you found yourself on his lap, your hands sunk in his short blond hair and your lips on his. His hands were gripping your hips, keeping you in place, as his teeth and mouth and tongue reclaimed you, after so much time of patient waiting and hunger.

You hissed, as his teeth grazed your neck and jaw, nibbling and sucking, while his hands made their way under your shirt. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to go on. And so you kept him near, your nails scratched his back and nape, tearing soft moans that went to fuel the hot pool that was growing in your low abdomen. His lips made their way to your collarbone, biting and licking, before going back to your lips, assaulting them with a deep and almost bruising kiss. You opened a little your eyes, seeing your reflection in that marine azure, feeling… good. For once you didn’t fear judgment or guilt.

Now there were just him and you in his little flat and all the world was closed behind the door.

#jjba #vento aureo #la squadra di esecuzione #prosciutto #fem smart gangster #fem s/o #kinda #post vento aureo #scenario #sfw #giogio-xp

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abri-chan · 5 years

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It’s naive to see La Squadra as bad (a comparison between them and Buccellati’s Gang)

Buccellati’s Gang is also killing people. We assume they are good guys, because we see the story from their perspective. And in previous parts, the main characters have been the “good guys”. I think the twist is nice in Vento Aureo, because you start thinking La Squadra are the antagonists. Then you realize they were just another gang caught in the mess Diavolo made, because of his ambition.

The other twist is that there are no good guys in Vento, in the traditional Shonen sense. They are all grey characters, and sociopaths. Giorno starts as this kind guy (he’s a JoJo at heart, said Koichi), who steals here and there to survive. Which is understandable. But then he murders Polpo, and shows no change in personality. You’d think a “normal” kid would at least feel weird afterwards. Then you realize Giorno is just as much a Dio, as he is a Jonathan (he’s just good at hiding his duality). He’s so obsessed with his goal (compare to Dio’s obsession with Jonathan), he only cares about the next step in his plan, even while dying (Giorno has almost died so many times). Bruno is the light and hope of all the lost kids (and adults: Abbacchio). He’s also someone that tortured a 15 year-old, by making him vomit disembodied body parts. Narancia went from zero to level 100 yandere, willing to burn down the entire city. And so on.

At some point, it will become impossible to justify these characters as good people (in the traditional Shonen sense always). Which is why I love Vento, compared to previous parts. The characters are more complex. Being a sociopath, doesn’t mean they are all evil. We think so, because so far we’ve seen only Dio (both a sociopath and psychopath). Most of the Vento characters are sociopaths, because otherwise they would not survive. The life they were thrown into (even before becoming assassins, or joining a gang), caused them to become sociopaths in order to cope. Buccellati’s Gang is La Squadra few years down the line. I think both teams do care about their members. You can say La Squadra involves innocent people. But didn’t Bruno do that too, when pushed? When fighting Giorno, he hid himself in some random guy’s body. It just means La Squadra has been through a lot of shit, and to survive, they learned you have to sacrifice bystanders, sometimes. It says a lot that so few people from Buccellati’s Gang survive. You either cross the moral line, or you die.

I disliked Prosciutto so much, for being a dick to Pesci since the first moment he appeared. But remember how he was the only one commenting on the woman getting caught in the car mess (Formaggio should have been more careful)? I think he sacrificed everyone on the train, because he had his back against the wall. The boss knows La Squadra defaulted. Trish is their only hope. Half of the team is dead. Scratch that, it’s not a team to him. It’s his family. Some fans act as if they would not do crazy shit for the people they love. Assuming he’s evil, because he doesn’t show remorse (or emotional struggle) over his actions, is naive. La Squadra has been in business for a long time. They’ve learned to turn off their emotional side during their job. Think about doctors/nurses or the police, and how death is normal to them. They have to approach work with less emotion, or else they will lose their minds. A normal person won’t react to death like a doctor, or a policeman would. For all we know, any La Squadra member could be tossing and turning in his sleep, because of the murders they have done. Or they turn off emotions (to some extent), and become sociopaths. Sociopath doesn’t necessarily mean a bad thing; it just means the person deviates in some ways from what’s expected from the average person. It doesn’t mean they are evil, or dangerous. Even though, in Vento’s case, all characters are dangerous.

Also Pesci’s and Prosciutto’s connection is so endearing. I love them together (one of the best brother dynamics in JoJo so far). It made me feel bad for Prosciutto. And I didn’t think I would feel bad; I was joking I will toast with milk when he dies. Prosciutto is a dick, and suffers from the need to show others he’s alpha. So the only way he knows how to show his brotherly love to Pesci, is by beating the alpha into him. Yet, as he was dying, he tried to help Pesci. Remember who else hangs on to life to help another character? Every JoJo best friend ever. The “good guys”. La Squadra has main character material. If in different circumstances. That doesn’t mean they are good people. They have redeeming qualities, and some fucked up traits. And they do fucked up shit. But Buccellati’s Gang is no different. It’s just that we are seeing them in an earlier point of their mafia “career”.

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duhragonball · 6 years

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[FIC] Vento Aureo: Alice in Chains (1/1)

This is a Secret Santa gift for @glintea.

Golden Disclaimer: JoJo’s Bizzare Adventure is a trademark of Lucky Land Communications. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Windy Continuity Note: This story takes place between Chapters 550 (”Beneath a Sky Seemingly About to Fall”) and 551 (”Pronto! On the Line! Part 1″).

Tip of the plot to @jimintomystery.

I. GUIDO MISTA

Sardinia was a death trap, but they couldn’t leave, not yet.

Guido Mista supposed that Sardinia was where it had all begun. It was the home of the man who founded Passione, the gang of Stand Users that now dominated the Italian underworld. “The Boss” had secured his position by hiding his true identity from friend and foe alike, but he had made a mistake. While living in Sardinia, he had sired a daughter, leaving a trail for his enemies to follow.

Mista’s capo, Bruno Bucciarati, had been assigned to protect the Boss’s daughter from traitors within the gang, but they eventually learned that the Boss only wanted her protected until he could kill her himself. In that moment, Bucciarati chose to save the girl, and barely escaped. Now a traitor to Passione himself, Bruno asked his team to join him or remain with the gang.

Mista chose to side with Bucciarati. They all did, except for Panacotta Fugo, who remained behind. At the time, Mista didn’t give much thought to Fugo’s decision. Mista bore no resentment towards him. The Boss was a powerful man, and everyone who challenged the Boss ended up dead. Fugo was just playing it safe.

But Mista had seen things differently. He sympathized with the Boss’ daughter, sure, but besides that, she had been marked for death, and survived. Bruno had made the decision to save her, and he had succeeded, with timely assistance from Giorno Giovanna, who seemed to have a talent for making the right call in these kinds of situations. Fugo might have called this a fluke, but Mista saw it as a sign that maybe the Boss wasn’t so invincible after all. He didn’t know how Bruno and Giorno were going to take the Boss down, but he was sure that they could, and he wanted to be on their side when they it happened.

This reasoning had led Mista to follow them to Sardinia, where they hoped to uncover the Boss’ secrets, only to lose their comrade, Leone Abbacchio, in the attempt. Abbacchio’s death had forced Mista to wonder if Fugo had been right all along. It had been easy to throw in with Bruno before, when they were all still alive, but now...

The problem, Mista decided, was that he had plenty of time to think about it. The Boss was still on Sardinia, but wounded, which gave them a breather, but it was still too dangerous to relax. That meant Mista was on guard duty, which normally didn’t bother him, except that it gave him a chance to second-guess his decisions. But rethinking things now was useless. He had already made his choices. There was no going back, no matter how many times he went over it in his mind.

They had taken up temporary residence in a shopping mall in Olbia, not far from the site of Abbacchio’s murder. Security was lax, and it wasn’t difficult for them to hide after the mall closed for the evening, and from there on they had the place to themselves. The building itself offered little protection, but it provided shelter and restrooms, which was all they really needed. Their Stands would handle the rest.

Everyone that mattered in Passione had a Stand, a psychic power that manifested as a thought-form that would stand beside its user, hence the name. Mista’s Stand, named Sex Pistols, took the form of six bullet-shaped creatures that guided the trajectory of bullets fired from his gun. He didn’t really know how they worked or where they came from, or why they ate tomatoes and salami he had stolen from the food court. Throughout Mista’s career in Passione, he had learned to accept Stands as a fact of life.

Across the table from him was another Stand User, a turtle. Ironically, the Boss had given them the turtle to use during their mission to deliver his daughter, and now they were using it against him. Its Stand took the form of a key embedded in the top of its shell, and a large jewel in the key served as a passageway into a secret room. Mista didn’t really get how it worked, but he was grateful that it did. By hiding some of their group inside the turtle, it was much easier to conceal their numbers and protect themselves. The turtle itself wasn’t much to look at, but Mista supposed the same could be said about himself. Like him, the turtle got the job done, and that was what mattered.

Nearby, Narancia Ghirga was perched on a chair, glancing furtively at the exits. Narancia’s Stand was Aerosmith, which took the form of a miniature fighter plane. It’s offensive power was impressive, but its true value in this situation was its ability to detect carbon dioxide. This meant that anything that breathed within Aerosmith’s range could be detected, located, and--if necessary--destroyed.

Narancia hadn’t slept since they found Abbachio’s body.

Normally, this might have worried Mista, but they needed Aerosmith--now more than ever--and Narancia had to be awake to use it. Mista had encountered so-called “automatic” Stands, which functioned independently of the user’s awareness, but most Stands could be deactivated when the user fell asleep or unconscious. Unfortunately, no one in Bruno’s group had such a power, and that left them with little choice but to stay awake and stay vigilant.

“Get some sleep, Mista,” Narancia said, as though reading his thoughts. “I’ve got this.”

“You first,” Mista said. He was surprised by how tired his own voice sounded. He didn’t feel fatigued, but maybe it was easier to believe that when you didn’t talk.

“I’m fine,” Narancia said. He looked as bad as Mista sounded.

“Then so am I,” Mista replied.

They had been over this topic three hours ago. Neither of them accepted the relief. Giorno or Bruno could have taken over guarding the turtle, but their Stands were less suited for the task, and they had other things to attend to anyway. Mista doubted they had gotten any sleep either.

Abbacchio had died for their cause. He had struggled to the very end of his life to bring them closer to the goal. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them all that they would press on, forsaking rest in Abbacchio’s honor.

Or maybe Mista was imagining things. He was tired, after all.

*****

II. TRISH UNA

Inside the turtle, Trish Una was holding a vigil of her own.

She didn’t know Bruno’s gang very well. They only met when other members of Passione had handed her off to them to transport her to her father, known only as “the Boss”. So at first, they were little more than jailers. Oh, they had treated her respectfully enough, but their first duty was to keep her in their custody. When her father tried to kill her, and they rallied to her defense, she was touched, but not much had changed. Instead of a running battle with her father’s enemies, now they were in a running battle with her father himself. There wasn’t time to socialize.

What had changed was that she now had a chance to contribute to the effort. They still kept her in the turtle for her own safety, but it had been her idea to go to Sardinia, based on something her mother had told her years ago. Trish never knew her father, but she knew he had been on the island fifteen years ago. And with a date and location to work from, Leone Abbacchio could use his Stand, Moody Blues, to get a look at her father’s face.

Stands were still new to her. Her father had one, which he had used to try to kill her, and she had recently developed one of her own. Abbacchio had been less than forthcoming about his ability, although Trish had a general idea. Moody Blues had been able to look backward through time and assume the appearance and actions of a particular person from that past moment. By "rewinding” fifteen years at a place her father had been, Moody Blues could take on the appearance of her father, revealing his face. The only problem was that Abbacchio was vulnerable during this “rewinding” process. Her father killed him, putting an end to this attempt to expose his true identity.

But Abbacchio’s death wasn’t in vain. Somehow, he had managed to use Moody Blues one last time to assume the Boss’ features. Then he created an impression in a nearby stele. Trish wasn’t sure how he had done this. It was as if the stone had been made of soft clay and Moody Blues had simply pressed its face and hands into the surface of it. Perhaps Abbacchio had caused Moody Blues to materialize inside the stele, displacing it somehow. What really mattered was that he had done it, and her father hadn’t noticed, and that Giorno Giovanna had noticed. All they had to do now was make a cast of the impression, and they would have a precise copy of her father’s face and fingerprints.

As it turned out, that task fell to Trish. Her Stand, Spice Girl, could soften materials and make them malleable like clay. In theory, Spice Girl could soften a solid object and stuff it into a mold, then harden it again and create a perfect cast in a fraction of the time it would take using ordinary plaster. In practice... well, she hadn't had much practice using Spice Girl. Her father's face had been easy enough, but the hands were more challenging. It wasn't the hands themselves, but the intricate ridges of the fingerprints. After three failed attempts, the group decided to break apart the stele and take the hand impressions along in the turtle, where she could continue in relative safety.

It was difficult work. Her Stand stood beside her and she guided its hands over the marble they had gathered for the job. With a touch from Spice Girl's fingers, the marble became like dough, and sank into the impressions of her father's hands. The goal was to soften the marble even more, and make it so fluid that it flowed freely into the grooves of her father's fingerprints. Trish still wasn't entirely used to manipulating objects through Spice Girl. It was becoming easier, but the sensation of holding still and letting her Stand do the work was strange. Spice Girl was approximately her own height and build, although it looked like a bright pink robot. With a little concentration, Trish found that she could actually see through Spice Girl's "eyes", which looked like the tail lights on a car. It was bizarre to split her awareness this way, especially when she looked through Spice Girl's view and caught a glimpse of herself sitting nearby.

Across the room, Giorno Giovanna was busy at the computer, scouring the internet for information, using the general description of the Boss they had from the cast of his face. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of Giorno. She hadn't known any of them for long, but she thought she had a handle on Bruno Bucciarati. In saving her, Bruno had turned against the Boss, and now Abbacchio had paid for his decision. Bruno had been cold and stoic since he had made his fateful decision, and she couldn't blame him. He was leading his squad into an uncertain future, and fighting a battle he couldn't be sure he could win.

But Giorno was something else altogether. He was polite to her, but he was also very driven, as if Bruno's gang, Trish, and everything else were only means to an end. Even as he waited for her to complete the fingerprints, he was determined to make as much progress as possible. While he waited for websites to load, he looked away from the computer and fixed his intense gaze upon the bust Trish had made, as if it held some hidden clue besides its appearance.

There were times when Trish almost wondered if Giorno knew her father somehow, but that was impossible. If he did know him, then there would be no need to go to such lengths to identify him. But even if there was no history between them, Giorno's resolve to bring down the Boss seemed to run deeper than any of the others, and Trish wondered why. On some level, she liked to imagine that his extra resolve was for her sake. But that was childish, wasn't it? Bruno and the others had sympathized with her, but they had their own reasons for wanting to bring down her father, and why should Giorno be any different?

"May I make a suggestion?"

She had been so focused on her work that she hadn't noticed his approach. She looked around to find him looming over her chair, his blue eyes locked on her now with the same intensity he had applied to the bust of her father.

"Wh-what? I mean, yes," she said awkwardly.

"I apologize for sounding impatient," he said. "But a moment ago I was thinking that this was taking too long, and it reminded me of the time it takes for my own Stand to work. Smaller, simpler tasks are faster."

Trish nodded. Gold Experience could transform inanimate objects into living things, although this was only scratching the surface of its full potential. Giorno could also manipulate biological functions to some degree, and heal wounds. It hadn't occurred to her until just now that he hadn't always known how to do those things. He must have learned to use Gold Experience in much the same way she was beginning to learn Spice Girl.

"I'm talking about the fingerprints," he went on, gesturing idly at the stone fragments Trish was working with. "Your cast of the head was excellent, but the hands require more detail. Only we don't really need the hands at all. Just the tips of the fingers."

"Oh!" she said. "I hadn't..."

"Try focusing one finger at a time," he said. "That might be easier for your Stand. Eventually, I'm sure you'll develop the skill to cast larger, more detailed forms, but for now this should make the work faster."

"Right. I'll try that," she said. "Thanks."

"Again, I apologize," he said. "Your Stand has been instrumental so far, and it's easy for us to forget your inexperience. I should have thought of this sooner."

"No problem," she said, for lack of a better response. She wasn't sure what to say next. He just kept looking at her, and then suddenly he turned away to return to his work.

He did that from time to time. Just stared at her for a little too long to be inconspicuous. Was it pity? Attraction? Or was he simply looking to catch a glimpse of his nemesis in his daughter's eyes?

She set the question aside and focused on her casts.

*****

III. NARANCIA GHIRGA

Outside the turtle, Narancia Ghirga paced around, trying to stay awake.

His hope was to sleep once they left the island. They wouldn't be much safer then, but at least they'd be on the move, and they'd have a destination to reach. He could hold out till then, he told himself. He wasn't some kid, even if everyone treated him like one. Giorno and Trish were only fifteen, and they had been up the whole time, hadn't they? He was older than them, wasn't he? He was seventeen, only a year younger than Mista, but they treated him like a kid. He was practically a grown man.

Aerosmith had two components. One took the form of a miniature fighter plane, while the other was a radar screen that hovered directly in front of his right eye. Any source of carbon dioxide would show up on the radar. At the moment, there were only three: himself, Mista, and the turtle. Those inside the turtle's Stand were invisible to Aerosmith. Narancia didn't know why that was. Maybe people actually shrank when they entered the turtle, so their breath was too minuscule to be detected. Or maybe they weren't really breathing while they were inside the turtle's Stand. But there seemed to be air inside, and it wasn't stuffy or anything, so there had to be some kind of ventilation.

Soda had helped. At first, he thought the caffeine would keep him awake, but he soon realized that what really helped was the constant trips to the restroom. At least it gave him something to do while he waited. Check the radar, drink a soda, check the radar, go to the restroom, check the radar, splash cold water on his face, check the radar, walk back to the turtle, check the radar, drink another soda.

His whole life had been a series of betrayals before he joined Bruno's gang. They had shown him kindness, and so he repaid them with loyalty, which was reciprocated. When Bruno turned against the Boss, choosing sides had been the most difficult decision of Narancia's life. Ultimately, he decided that he saw too much of himself in Trish, so he sided with Bruno, but that meant turning his back on Fugo, who had remained loyal to the Boss.

Once, Fugo had tried to tutor him in American history. Most of it was lost on Narancia, who never got past the second grade, but one lesson that stuck with him was the American Civil War. As the United States split into two factions, General Robert E. Lee was faced with a dilemma. Though he was loyal to the Union, his home state of Virginia had chosen to betray it by joining the Confederacy. Ultimately, Lee chose Virgina over the Union, but a lot of other Virginians felt differently. When Virginia split off from the Union, the loyalist faction decided to split off from Virginia by forming a separate state to stay in the Union: West Virginia. So no matter which side Lee picked, he was still fighting a war against his home. He was a traitor no matter what.

At least, Narancia thought it was General Lee. Maybe it was General Sherman, and the state was Georgia instead of Virginia. No, "West Georgia" didn't sound right. Whoever it was, Narancia felt like that general. He had tried to tell himself that Fugo would be all right, and that somehow this would all work out, but that had been much easier to believe while Abacchio was still alive.

Abacchio's death felt like a betrayal, even though it really wasn't. Narancia felt betrayed by Abbacchio’s sudden absence, while at the same time he felt like he had let Abacchio down by not being there to save him. All he could do now was try to protect the ones who still lived, and ensure that Abbacchio's sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. And this sense of obligation, more than the soda or the cold water or the full badder, was what kept him awake.

He was returning from the restroom when he heard something like the clanking of scrap metal. This confused him, but there were no new blips on the radar, so he wasn't concerned. Then, as he emerged from the hallway and into the food court, he saw Mista struggling on the floor.

He was bound by a glowing orange chain.

"The turtle!" Mista shouted as soon as he spotted Narancia. The chain was pulling him away from the table where he had left it. Narancia ran towards them, and in spite of Mista's order, he couldn't take his eyes off him as the chain dragged him along the floor. It spanned the length of the mall, as far as Narancia could see, and beyond.

It was an enemy Stand, that much was clear. But it wasn't the Boss' Stand, and Bruno believed that there were no other Passione members still alive on the island. More importantly, Narancia still wasn't picking up anyone else on his radar. Did the enemy have a way to hide his breathing, or did his Stand have a wider range of effect than Aerosmith's radar? Just how long was that chain, anyway?

Unless he could find the Stands user, he would have no choice but to attack the Stand itself, which was a tricky proposition at best. Generally, it was simpler to go for the user. Killing or incapacitating the user would shut down their Stand and nullify its effects. On the other hand, damage inflicted upon the Stand would hurt the user as well, but many Stands were resistant to direct attack. In this case, Aerosmith would have difficulty hitting such a long, narrow target. It's weapons were better suited to strafing runs and carpet bombing situations. But maybe if he laid down fire over a long enough distance, he could score enough hits to make it release Mista. Or he could just follow it back to the user, using his radar to get the drop on whoever was behind this. His mind was racing with possible responses...

"Dammit, get to the turtle, you dumbass!"

...except for the one response Mista had told him to think about. Reluctantly, he turned his back on his comrade as Mista was dragged down the corridor. The turtle was still on the table where Mista had left it. It was munching on a piece of lettuce Mista had given it from his sandwich, seemingly unaware that anything was wrong.

"We're under attack!" he cried out as he loomed over the jeweled key that was embedded in the turtle's shell. Inside, the tiny figures of Bruno, Trish, and Giorno looked up at him expectantly. "He's got Mista!"

Bruno gestured to the others to remain where they were. "I'm coming out," he said as he raised his hand over his head. Normally, this motion would cause an occupant to emerge from the room and return to the outside world, and Narancia stepped back to make way for Bruno's arrival. But nothing happened.

Bruno winced as he raised his other hand to try again. "Something's wrong. Narancia, did something happen to the turtle?"

"I don't know!" Narancia said hurriedly. "I was taking a leak when--!"

"Narancia, pick up the turtle and get us out of the mall," Bruno commanded.

"But Mista--!"

"We can't help him if we're trapped in here!" Bruno snapped. "Get us as far away as you can. Once we're out of the range of his Stand, we can go back and try to--"

And then something shot out of the room like bolt of lightning. Narancia had touched the turtle to lift it up, and in that moment a length of orange chain emerged from the jewel and wrapped itself around Narancia's body. Instinctively, he summoned Aerosmith to his side, but there wasn't anything his Stand could do about this, not unless he wanted the plane to open fire on himself and the turtle.

Before he knew it, he was being yanked into the room with the others. It was a familiar sensation by now, only this time it was much rougher, since he was being pulled into the turtle's Stand against his will. He crashed onto the floor, and the next thing he saw were Trish's boots as she reached down to help him up. The orange chain was gone.

"It's just like the one that got Mista!" Narancia said. "But there was no sign of the user, and how could it drag him away from the turtle and be inside the turtle at the same time?!"

"I think I can answer that," came an unfamiliar voice from outside the turtle.

They all looked up and saw Mista wrapped in the chain, being lowered over the turtle as though by an unseen hoist. Then he too descended into the room that was the turtle's Stand, and he collapsed only inches away from where Narancia had fallen.

"My name is Sausage Burrito," announced the voice from outside the turtle. He loomed over them to reveal his face, though the curvature of the jewel distorted his features, and made his triumphant grin even more smug and self-satisfied. "And you are all prisoners of my Stand."

*****

IIII. BRUNO BUCCIARATI

Trapped inside the turtle's Stand, Bruno Bucciarati had no choice but to hear out the man who now held all of them in his power.

"Let me explain the situation to you," he began. "Your turtle's Stand has been locked by my own Stand, Alice-in-Chains. I fixed it so that people can freely enter the room you're now in, but they cannot leave."

He paused to let this sink in, and continued. "My Stand has a fairly long range, you see, which makes it useful to detect other Stands over a wide area. That was how I tracked you down without any of you noticing. When it was safe for me to do so, I chained the turtle's Stand as one of you entered the room.

"Of course, I couldn't simply wait for all of you to enter the turtle at the same time. You kids aren't stupid. Fortunately, Alice-in-Chains has the power to lock two Stands at a time. I simply snared Mr. Mista from the other end of the mall, and Mr. Ghirga was kind enough to get close enough to the chain already in place around the turtle. Well, more accurately, I reeled their Stands in, I should say. Their bodies were dragged along with them.

"That's all very interesting, Mr. Burrito," Bruno said. "But now that you have us, what do you intend to do with us?"

"Very good, Mr. Bucciarati," be said. "I can see you're a man who gets right to the point. Very well: I intend to trade your lives for money. A lot of money."

"Money?" Bucciarati scoffed. "You think you can extort the Boss, Burrito? He'll kill you just to show the rest of the gang what happens to traitors."

Burrito laughed. "Oh, I'm not with the gang, Bucciarati," he explained. "I never heard of Passione until a few years ago."

Bruno was astonished. "Then how--?!"

"How did I find out about your little power struggle?" Burrito finished. "Very easily, Bucciarati. "Passione practically rules the Mediterranean like a Roman Empire of the underworld. The other crime syndicates don't understand how, but to a Stand User like me, it makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

"That's the genius behind Passione. Stand Users attract other Stand Users. We all know it's true, even though we don't know why. The Boss had a Stand, probably a very strong one, and when he met other Stand Users, he recruited them. There was a guy in Egypt who tried something similar in the 80's--you lot were probably too young to remember any of that-- but Passione operates on a much bigger scale. Any Stand User who crosses the gang's path has to step aside, or join them, or die."

That was true enough, Bruno thought ruefully. When Giorno Giovanna had first approached him about taking down the Boss, Bruno had convinced him that the only sensible way to do this was from within the gang. Giorno had joined, Fugo had stepped aside, and Abbacchio had died.

"Your actions here," Bruno finally said, "suggest that you found a fourth option."

"I watched," Burrito said. "My Stand powers made it easy. I could swing my chains until I discovered a Stand User, and then approach them without giving away my intentions. When I needed to interrogate someone, I simply bound their Stand at an opportune time. You'd be surprised how many Passione operatives lose their nerve once they can't summon their Stands or their comrades to rescue them. Half of them thought I was their Boss, coming out of the shadows to punish them for some minor infraction.

"The trick is to whittle away at the fringes," Burrito went on. "No one would miss a dead flunky, so long as his death was made to look like an accident. Your group seems to be targeting the Boss directly, and it's attracted a lot of attention. It didn't take me very long to find out about you, Bruno Bucciarati. Mista and Ghirga have been with you for some time. The girl with the pink hair is the Boss's daughter, and the kid with the blonde hair is the enigma, Giorno Giovanna. He's new to the gang, and that's probably worked to your favor up to now. No one knows just what his Stand can do, so he's your secret weapon.

"Secrets... that's the only sure way to defeat a Stand User. A Stand User with a secret is almost unstoppable. It's what makes Passione the hidden masters of Europe. It's what keeps the Boss in control of Passione. It's what's kept your rebellion going this long, and it's how I captured all of you. That's why I'm telling you so much about me, Mr. Bucciarati. I no longer need to keep secrets from you and your companions, because I've already won. I don't say this to humiliate you. This isn't gloating. I'm just stating facts. I know people like you are very reluctant to accept defeat, so I want you to understand your predicament before you waste your energy on useless heroics."

"I see. You aren't interested in the Boss at all," Bruno surmised. "You plan to extort us. Otherwise you wouldn't be trying convincing us to cooperate."

Burrito made a satisfied smile. "I already know the Boss would kill me rather than meet my demands," he said. "I think I might be able to make a deal with him anyway, but it's not worth the risk. You, on the other hand, are desperate. You'd do anything to get out of that turtle and get back to your mad dash to stay one step ahead of your enemies. And that means you're willing to pay me a handsome fee to let you go. It means you'll let me walk away, because you're in too much danger from the Boss to worry about taking revenge."

"What makes you think I can pay you anything?" Bruno asked. "Thanks to you, I'm trapped here."

"There's a computer in that room," Burrito said. "It's difficult to make out from this vantage, but it wouldn't be of much use without a modem. Come to think of it, I wonder how it works. Is that room in another location altogether? A place with wiring for electricity and telephone service? Ah, but I don't think so. There's no doors in that room, and if were as simple as smashing through a wall, you've have done it by now."

"You expect me to wire money directly into your account," Bruno said.

"An untraceable account, I promise you," Burrito replied.

"As a Passione Operative, I had access to a small fortune," Bruno said, "but now that I've betrayed the organization, those funds are no longer available to me."

"A weak ploy, Mr. Bucciarati," he said. "I suppose you had to try it just to see if it would work, but I'm no fool. A clever young man like you wouldn't have become a Passione Operative without the good sense to set aside money in private accounts. For that matter, I doubt Passione could ever truly lock you out of their finances. You're very resourceful, from what I've learned."

"All right. For the sake of argument, then. Let's say I could wire you the money," Bucciarati said carefully. "Why should I expect you to release us?"

"Put simply, I need my Stand for other things," he said. "I can't just hold you all indefinitely. Naturally, I couldn't just release you while I stand so close to the turtle. You'd want retribution, and while my Alice-in-Chains can handle itself in a fight, I'd never stand a chance against five Stand Users. Fortunately, my Stand has a substantial range, and I can release all of you from a safe distance and take my leave before you can turn your Stands on me. At least, that's how I'd prefer this to end, assuming we can come to an agreement."

"You presume too much, Burrito," Bruno said. "You may have locked the turtle's Stand, and you might be able to freeze the Stand of one other person, but that still leaves four of us who can use our Stands to break free. If we disable the user, the Stand's effects wear off."

"I don't think so," Burrito said. "Your Stands can't exit the turtle any more than you can. I'm quite safe out here, and my Stand is wrapped around your turtle's Stand, which is the room you're all in. You can't reach it from the inside."

"I'm not talking about attacking you," Bruno said. "I'm talking about the turtle. If we attack the room itself, that damage will be reflected upon the turtle. If we hurt it enough, the turtle will fall unconscious, and its Stand--this room--will deactivate. One that happens, we'll be returned to the outside world."

"You're welcome to try, of course," Burrito offered. "I doubt you'll have much luck with that. A Stand like this turtle's has no offensive power or speed, or any combat ability whatsoever. And I've learned a few things about Stands in my time, Mr. Bucciarati. A Stand with such limited ability makes up for it by being incredibly durable. It doesn't do the turtle any good, since the Stand doesn't protect it, and it doesn't do the five of you any good, since the turtle is vulnerable, but it does work out very nicely for me. You can all tear that room to pieces if you can, but I'm guessing you won't put a dent in the Stand, which means you won't knock the turtle out anytime soon."

He leaned over the jeweled dome of the room and glared down on Bruno like a bemused god addressing an unruly ant. "I think you need some time to consider your situation. I'll leave you alone for a while. Give you a chance to scheme and plan, and then maybe you'll start thinking about more practical matters. For example, how much food and water do you have in that room? Is there a toilet? I don't see one."

And then the enormous face receded from view, leaving Bruno to contemplate those words. He might have turned to look to the others, but there was no need, for he was sure they were already looking at him, expecting him to find some way out of this mess.

As much as it galled Bruno, he had to admit that Sausage Burrito seemed to have an answer for everything. Even if they could batter the turtle's Stand into deactivating, the Boss was still somewhere on Sardinia, and every moment they spent here increased the risk of being found.

Maybe Burrito had an answer for the Boss, too, but Bruno doubted it. Bruno had experienced the brutal power of the Boss' Stand, King Crimson, and barely escaped. No, Burrito had no idea what the Boss was capable of, or the lengths the Boss would go to in order to protect his identity. If Burrito had known, he never would have dared to meddle in Passione affairs like this.

And so it seemed that he had no choice but to capitulate and give in to Burrito's demands. But in the game of extortion, that was no solution at all. Giving Burrito what he wanted would only prove that he had nothing to fear from them. He would demand more, or wait and try to capture them again, or sell their location to Passione, confident that Bruno would be too weak to stop him.

He finally turned to inform the others of their decision. "I'm going to try to kill the turtle," he said.

They all did their best to hide it, but none of them relished this prospect. The turtle wasn't exactly a pet, but it had accompanied them and sustained them through their journey, and that counted for something. Even so, Abbacchio had given his life for their cause. Weighed against that, the turtle was an acceptable loss.

"Are you sure you can, Bucciarati?" Mista asked. He approached one of the walls of the room and rapped his knuckles against the drywall. "That guy’s a prick, but he has a point. This Stand must be really durable to manifest a whole lounge like this."

"True, but he also made a good point about this room. We don’t really know what's on the other side of that wall. Would we find the turtle’s innards? A way out? A way to attack the turtle? Maybe none of these, but I think it's time we found out."

He approached the wall and summoned his Stand, Sticky Fingers. Broadly speaking, it looked much like a masculine version of Trish' Spice Girl, only colored blue and white, with gold zippers hanging from various parts of its body. No sooner than it appeared beside him did Bruno command it to punch the wall before him. Once its fist made contact, a large zipper appeared.

In the past, Sticky Fingers had been able to create zippers that could separate entire body parts. Bruno thought that this might be useful against the turtle in this situation. If he could make a zipper long enough to cross the entire room, he could bisect the turtle's Stand, and thus the turtle itself. This wouldn't necessarily kill it, but it might be enough to shock it to the point of disabling its Stand. Unfortunately, Sticky Fingers didn't have a big enough range of effectiveness to cover such a large area. The best he could do was to open the zipper he had made and face whatever lay on the other side.

But when the zipper opened, there was only a blank white field beyond it, and the air in the room began to rush through the aperture. Bruno found himself pulled towards the hold he had made, and just barely managed to catch hold of the zipper teeth. He looked back, and was relieved to find the others had managed to anchor themselves more effectively. Mista had grabbed hold of Narancia, who had wrapped his legs around the coffee table, while Trish clung to the armrest of the sofa, trying to protect the casting she had made of the Boss' fingers. Similarly, Giorno was holding on to the computer table, and using his Stand to hold onto the bust Trish had already finished.

he had miscalculated. The airless void he had opened could only make things worse. He needed to close the zipper, but he couldn't do that while he was holding onto it. Sticky Fingers could pull him back inside first, but he worried that in the time that would take, too much air would be sucked out of the room.

And so he let go, and Sticky Fingers sealed the opening as it followed him into the nothingness.

*****

V. GIORNO GIOVANNA

Bucciarati had been gone for an hour. There was nothing anyone could do. Only Sticky Fingers could access whatever realm he had vanished into. If Bruno could return, he would, and if not, then they would never see him again.

Instead, the rest of them had focused their efforts on attacking the turtle's Stand. This was an unlikely proposition, but they had nothing else to try.

"I feel like a damn jackass, Giorno," Mista said as he watched his comrades work. "Sex Pistols can't do shit in a situation like this. They can kick a bullet around and hit damn near anything, but bullets don't work on Stands, and without bullets their offensive power is weak as hell."

He was right. Stands could make use of ordinary objects and weapons, but they could only be damaged by the power of another Stand. They both knew this perfectly well, but Mista was already frustrated with his inability to help, so there was no use in calling attention to this. Instead, Giorno nodded and stepped closer to him. "Keep your gun handy anyway," he said. "We'll need it once we do escape."

He didn't look at Mista, but focused his attention on the wall. His own Stand, Gold Experience, threw a few punches, but it's strength wasn't all that impressive. Gold Experience was reasonably strong, but it's punches weren't as powerful as Sticky Fingers'. Its abilities were more subtle and diverse. Nevertheless, he still studied the undamaged wall, as if there was something revelatory about the spot where Gold Experience had struck.

Narancia had already tried using Aerosmith, and wound up covering one side of the room in tiny, shallow bullet holes. The attempt had been as fruitless as it had been dangerous, and Giorno was reluctant to ask him to try again. Unlike Mista's gun, Aerosmith's firepower was based on Stand Power, so it could harm the turtle's Stand, but apparently not enough to make a difference.

That left Trish, who had also tried to attack the turtle a short time ago, only to come up short. Spice Girl softened things, and could restore them to their original consistency. By restoring them very quickly, she could hurt them, but she lacked the range necessary to affect the entire room all at once. With time, Trish might have extended her effective range, or discovered some new application of Spice Girl's power, but time was something they didn’t have.

There was also the air supply to consider. The air was thinner in the room since Bruno had tried to leave. Giorno wasn't sure how the air worked inside the turtle, but there was clearly a limited supply. He considered using Gold Experience to turn the furniture into plants to replenish the oxygen, but he doubted this would do much good in the short term. In the long term, they would die anyway. Asphyxiation was no worse than dehydration, or being found by the Boss.

"What if we tried to combine our attacks?" Trish offered. "If Narancia fired on a wall after I softened it and snapped it back, maybe that would push us over the top."

"I'm afraid it wouldn't make any difference," Giorno replied calmly. "We should try it, but I think we should wait first. Burrito is still out there, trying to wear down our resolve. We need to conserve our strength.

"What good will that do?!" Narancia shouted. "Bucciarati's dead!"

Giorno turned to face him. "That may be so, but we still have to focus on our goal. We--"

"And just what happened to Mr. Bucciarati, hmm?"

They looked up to see that Sausage Burrito had returned. He appeared to be eating a pizzetta sfoglia as he observed his prisoners like fish in a bowl. He even tapped the surface of the jewel in the key that allowed him to see inside.

"Is he hiding? Are you planning an ambush? I don't think you understand. None of you are getting out of there until I get my money. If you expect me to come in there with you, you're only fooling yourselves."

"Hey, fuck you, asshole," Mista grumbled.

"Bucciarati... is gone," Giorno said firmly. "Whether you believe that or not is immaterial. Earlier, he made it plain that he had no intention of bargaining with you. Therefore, his absence changes nothing."

"Too bad for the rest of you then," Burrito scoffed. "None of you have anything to offer me. I didn't want to contact Passione, but if that's the only way for me to make a profit from this outing, I suppose I'll just have to--"

"Bucciarati wouldn't bargain," Giorno interrupted. "But I will."

Inside the turtle, the others looked at him. "Giorno?" Mista asked, unable to voice a full question.

"And what could you possibly have to offer, Giorno Giovanna?" Burrito asked. "Bucciarati had access to secret financial accounts. All you've got is a silly haircut."

"You mentioned secrets earlier," Giorno said confidently. "I kept this from the others, but I have a nephew in the real estate business. I had hoped to keep him out of this situation, but you leave me with no choice. There's a trust fund in my name. I could contact him and arrange funds to be wired into your accounts."

"Nephew?" Trish asked.

“Real estate?” Mista asked.

"Tempting, but I doubt you could match the sort of payout I was hoping to take from Bucciarati," Burrito said. "I might as well sell you out to the Boss."

"Why not both, then?" Giorno suggested. "You can free me, and cut whatever deals you want for these three." He pointed to the bust of the Boss on the computer table. "I already have what I need for my own agenda."

"What?!" Narancia gasped. "You're selling us out?!"

"Abbacchio died to get us that, you lousy--!" Mista began to shout.

Giorno shook his head. "I joined Bucciarati's gang," he said. "Now that he's gone, I see no conflict of interest here. I can either die in this turtle with you, or abandon you to complete our mission. Which would you choose?"

Trish said nothing. She simply stared at Giorno with horror in her eyes.

"Fine, fine!" Burrito said. "I see what you're playing at, Mr. Giovanna. You dangle a prize before me, then antagonize your fellow prisoners. So now I have to release you from the turtle, or they might kill you before I can take whatever money you have to offer. Very clever."

"You have nothing to fear by bringing me out of the turtle," Giorno said. "You've already demonstrated that you can lock two Stands at once, so I'd be as helpless out there as I would be in here."

"True enough," Burrito said. "Alice-in-Chains!"

Before the others could come to grips with what was happening, an orange chain entered the room through the jewel and wrapped itself around Giorno's body. He made no effort to resist, and like a fish on a line, he was hauled up and out of the room, then emerged into the outside world. Specifically, he found himself standing in a studio apartment, and the turtle lay comfortably on a twin bed. Before him, Sausage Burrito stood, pointing a handgun at Giorno’s chest.

He was taller than Giorno, but not by much, and his short orange hair had an elaborate pattern shaved into it, which matched a similar design in the soul patch that adorned his chin. He wore a silk button-down shirt under a pair of green zubaz and a neon yellow fanny pack around his waist.

"No tricks," Burrito said as Giorno got a long look at the gun.

"Of course," Giorno said. The orange chain around his body vanished, then reappeared to his right, now binding Gold Experience's body. Giorno raised his hands and put them behind his head.

"You're their secret weapon," Burrito said. "I knew you would make some convoluted play to get them out of this." He patted Giorno down with his free hand and withdrew a revolver concealed under the back of his jacket.

"Cute," Burrito said. "You took Mista's gun while no one was watching. It couldn’t hurt the turtle’s Stand, but out here, you could have ended this very quickly."

"I just didn't want Mista to use it on me," Giorno said. "I did just sell them out, after all."

"No, I don't think so, Mr. Giovanna," Burrito said. "You wouldn't have come this far with them to abandon them so easily. Even if you were that ruthless, you'd still try to find some way to regain their trust, if only to use them a while longer."

"It makes no difference," Giorno said. "You've let me out, and we can conclude our business."

"Yes, your 'wealthy nephew,'" Burrito said with a roll of his eyes. "I suppose your father is an older gentleman, and you're the product of a second marriage in his old age."

"I have no idea," Giorno said. "I was lying about having a nephew, at least as far as I know."

"Then you have nothing to bargain with," Burrito groaned.

"Nothing that would interest you, no," Giorno admitted.

"Then I don't see what the point of all this was," Burrito said. "A weak ploy to pull a gun on me, and nothing more? Or were you hoping to get a change to break the turtle's neck while you were out here? As if I'd let you anywhere near it."

"I never had any intention of harming the turtle," Giorno said firmly.

"Then what?" Burrito demanded. "Your Stand won't work any more out here than it did inside. I only brought you out to spring whatever cunning trap you laid, but it seems that you didn't think very far ahead. What a useless gesture."

"I don’t make useless gestures, Mr. Burrito," Giorno replied. "To tell the truth, I only tricked you into pulling me out of the turtle so that I could neutralize your Stand, while my plan went into effect."

Burrito blinked in surprise, then he laughed. "You what? What did you say?"

"You heard me," Giorno said. "I see no point in repeating myself, especially now that I've cornered you."

"Cornered me?" Burrito shouted. He struck Giorno with the butt of Mista's revolver and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of Giorno’s mouth. "I'm the one holding all the cards, you little punk! I have the guns, I have the turtle, I have your friends, I have your Stand, and I have you!"

"You have me," Giorno said. "But nothing else. My Stand has been freeing my friends this entire time, and you can't do anything to stop it. If you don't believe me, take a good look at the turtle."

Burrito indulged him, and leaned over to look into the jewel on the key in the turtle's back. "They're still in there!" he said testily. "Your bluffs are beginning to annoy me, Mr. Giovanna."

"Not the turtle's Stand, Mr. Burrito," Giorno said with a sigh. "I told you to look at the turtle."

With a weary groan, Burrito did, and when he finally noticed what Giorno was talking about, he gasped with fear.

"What... what have you done?!" he asked.

"Gold Experience doesn't have the raw strength of other Stands," Giorno explained. "Even a very powerful offensive Stand would have had difficulty punching its way out of the room in the turtle. To attempt this with Gold Experience would have been useless, so I didn't bother. When I struck the walls of the room, I used Gold Experience's true power, which can speed up the metabolism of living things. This power affected the Stand, which in turn affected the turtle."

"Stop it!" Burrito screamed. He pointed both guns at Giorno, though he wasn't nearly as confident as he had been before.

"I can't stop it," Giorno replied. "Your Alice-in-Chains has locked my Stand. Just as the turtle's Stand is stuck so that it can only allow people to enter, Gold Experience is locked into the effect it has on the turtle's metabolism."

Burrito's eyes went wide with horror.

Giorno locked eyes with him and continued. "During the winter months, reptiles enter a state called brumation. They become lethargic, and move very little, if at all. They seek out burrows or other places to sit out the cold weather. If I had to guess, I would imagine that if a reptile had a Stand, it would probably deactivate during this time. Of course, winter is some time away, which is why I used Gold Experience to speed up the turtle's biological clock. Though the weather is still warm, its body 'thinks' that it's time to become dormant.

"Stop it!" Burrito demanded.

"You already said that," Giorno said. "Your Stand has fixed my Stand on this course of action. I could reverse the process, but not unless you release Gold Experience, at which point I would use it to attack you and free the others. You could shoot me, and stop Gold Experience that way, but the turtle will enter brumation very soon, and then Trish and the others will emerge from the turtle. You could defeat two of them with your Stand, but not all three."

"No..."

"You tried to exploit the weakest link in our group," Giorno explained. "But the strongest link is nothing without the rest of the chain. You called me ruthless earlier, but I know the value of my allies, Burrito. You lost the moment you tried to use my own chain against me.

"I can still kill you!" Burrito stammered, desperate to claim any sort of advantage.

"Abbacchio died to further our mission, and Bucciarati may have done the same. If it had been necessary to kill the turtle to save ourselves, I would have done so. Is my life any less expendable than theirs? I, Giorno Giovanna, have a dream. If I am not prepared to lay down my life for that dream, can I truly be worthy of it?"

Burrito looked away from Giorno, and his lip quivered as he watched the turtle. Giorno seized the opportunity and snatched both of the guns from his hands.

"What do you dream of, Mr. Burrito?" he asked coldly. "Money? Secrets? Are you prepared to die for those?"

"Don't...!"

Suddenly four figures appeared in the room: Mista, Trish, Narancia, and Bruno Bucciarati, who seemed no worse for wear after being lost in the void. On the bed, next to the turtle, lay various items that had been in the room, including the materials Trish had been working with to capture her father’s likeness.

”I see the turtle has fallen asleep then,” Giorno surmised. “Apparently Bruno was still under the effect of the Stand, even though he was trapped outside of the room. So when the Stand deactivated, he was brought back along with everyone else.”

Giorno handed Mista’s gun back to him, but held up his hand when Mista pointed it at Burrito.

“There’s no need,” Giorno said. “Killing him would only attract unwanted attention. Besides, he’s completely defeated now.”

Mista looked to Bucciarati, who nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s true,” Bruno said as he regarded Burrito with utter disdain. His power is only useful against one or two people at a time. Now that we know what he can do, he’s helpless against us.”

”In your false triumph, Burrito,” Giorno explained, “you foolishly revealed your secrets to us, when they were the only thing protecting you. Now, you’re like a turtle without its shell. All you can do is hide.”

Burrito muttered something in agreement, but Giorno paid no mind to this. Instead, he gathered the sleeping turtle into his arms and followed the others out of the apartment. He had much more important things to do than listen to the groans of a beaten enemy.

First, he needed to restore the turtle’s metabolism to normal and gently bring it out of brumation. It was, after all, a valued member of the team.

末

#jojo's bizarre adventure #vento aureo #fanfiction #giorno giovanna #bruno bucciarati #guido mista #trish una #narancia ghirga #coco jumbo #glintea #secret santa

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startouchreflection · 5 years

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[ So I woke up this morning and the first thing my brain did is- You know what a good crossover au would be? JJBA’s Vento Aureo crew in TDP universe... and I’m actually designing my gangster babies for this AU.]

BUT LIKE OKAY HEAR ME OUT I’ve... I’ve given it a lot of thought these past two hours... Like it would be part 5 of Jojo but if Girono and Mista became friends first and they met up with Bruno after he decided to protect Trish... Also Fugo is still around and didn’t decide to leave because it’s a bad idea betray the gang... Fugo I loved you wtf.

DIO Brando would be some old ass human Dark mage that discovered the secret to eternal youth and life through some really fucked up way (Haven’t decided how but probably elf blood. He’s always a vampire I swear.)

His son Giorno Giovanna would be a half elf, half human half earthblood elf with a talent for gardening and once he studies some magic involving nature. He’d have been made by accident and when Dio realized the elf he was using for blood is pregnant he would let her have the child only out of curiosity. when Giorno looks a lot like him he’d keep him and raise him, probably keep his horns sanded down so humans would have less of a chance to notice him or to use in spells.

Guido Mista is an elf servant to Dio Brando, he was snatched up by the mage at a young age and forced to work for him in return he slept in a shed outside the mage’s home and was fed. It wasn’t the happy easy life he wanted but it was food and he wasn’t bleeding out like the other elves he saw... And the Elf he kept seeing in the garden was really cute... He grew bold one day while doing chores and approached Giorno only to learn Dio was his father. After talking and learnign how sheltered Giorno was being forced to live Mista made a bold call. Dio would eventually bleed him out, he knew this because the man was insane and not trustworthy... This elf boy could also be in danger. He was an elf and Dio didn’t seem too strong on familial bonds... So he offered to run away with him. Giorno agreed and the two left while Dio was out gathering supplies for a ritual. They eventually meet up with Bruno and his little mismatch family.

Bruno Bucciallati would be a sunfire elf, though rather than living his life close to the border he lived near the coast with his father. His father was a skywing elf and he had a passion for fishing while his mother was a sunfire elf and she... didn’t. They argued and fought for a long time before she finally left his father. They made him choose and it wasn’t a hard choice for Bruno... His father would never move on to find someone else but his mother was strong and beautiful... She would be fine alone. And so he stayed with his father. He helped where he could when his father went out to fish at sea and would keep the house ready for him when he returned... Though one night there was a bad storm and his father’s ship sank. He barely made it to shore and there was little bruno could have done for his father. He took him closer to the border in search of a healer and here he stayed, settling into a small home while his father stayed in an infirmary until he finally passed away. It broke his heart and when he went to drink and mourn he met an albino sunfire elf and the two mourned together... they spoke to each other easily despite how sad they were and quickly became friends.

Not long after Bruno decided to stay here with Leone and not long after this decision was made he met fugo and happily took in the outcast. He did have a temper on him but that didn’t matter... this was his family now.

Leone Abbacchio is an albino Sunfire Elf. He was in a group to patrol the border a young trained guard eager to protect Xadia and keep the peace between elves and humans... his leader however was far from the same justice seeking elf, he had a grudge against humans and would strike them down for just being too close and looking at the border.... Abbacchio didn’t like this and one day tried to stop his leader claiming the human kid passing by was innocent. the kid was but the group of bandits that spotted rare armor and weapons While abbacchio was scolded were not. He was injured and barely made it out to Xadia while his entire group was cut down and looted. He blamed himself and began drinking, happy to just waste away off in a tavern.

Pannacotta Fugo is a moonshadow elf, he is a scholar born to a well off family and has proven to be smart and talented in the skills of magic. He studied and trained to become a mage for years at the age of 13 he was already far more skilled that those nearly twenty years older than him... One older Elf didn’t take kindly to this and began to torment and harass Fugo. His illusions and moon magic did little to help him escape this man and in his desperation he turned to something darker. Fugo was a scholar and had studied all forms of magic including things he really shouldn’t have... and once he used dark magic to force this elf away nearly killing him he was shunned. His family used their power to lighten the blow of what would happen to their son before casting him out to fend for himself... Fugo didn’t mind, he was finally free to do whatever he wanted. (fugos was really triggery so I cut some of it out here because his backstory makes me uncomfortable to write as much as I love him. If you know fugo the older elf is his teacher... that he nearly beat to death. also anime back story not manga.)

Narancia Ghirga. Narancia is a skywing elf. His mother died of a rare disease when he was young and his father quickly began to shut the child out barely doing more than feeding the boy if he even remembered to do that. Rather than stay home and live with this man he left and began living off the land... something he was horrible at. He was starving, struggling to survive when he didn’t trust any of the older elves he met even if they tried to help him and was quickly getting sick, his eye swelling up only showing he had the same disease his mother had... He was found by Fugo and forcefully taken to the moonshadow elf’s home. Once Bruno took a look at the boy he had him fed and cleaned before getting him to a healer to have his eye healed and anything possibly wrong with him cured. It was the kindest anyone had been to him since his mother died and the skywing found himself wanting to stay with this man.

Bruno however wanted him to return home and scolded him, telling him how important family was and to give his father another chance... And so he did as he was told. he went home and he tried. he tried to connect with his father to do anything but the man only pushed him away. it took nearly a year but the skywing returned to Bruno’s home and this time he was welcomed with open arms. Their little family had grown.

Trish Una is a moonshadow elf like her mother but she looks human. No one can explain why this is when her father was a sunfire elf who left the mother after a one night stand. Trish is shunned in their community and after her mother dies and she lets out a name for her father finally after all these years a target is put on the girls back. She is Diavolo’s daughter and he wants her brought to him. Lucky for Trish the elf that takes up the job is Bruno... And when he discovers the motives behind this escort job he takes his family and runs from Xadia with the girl. She looks human and could easily hide among them. His plan is to help her settle into a nice human life from the shadows and keep her hidden from Diavolo.

[okay so like... if you are watching Jojo and don’t want part 5 spoilers stop reading my AU idea here and now because this next bit is REALLY spoilery.]

Diavolo is a corrupt sunfire elf running a black market of rare Xadian artifacts and parts to human mages who need things. He would get you anything from living creatures (elves included) to berries and weapons. Diavolo is also a paranoid man. he keeps himself hidden during deals so no one can trace anything back to him. He has a criminal network everywhere through Xadia and the human kingdoms... So when he learns he has a daughter Trish, a loose end that could lead someone back to him... He wants her dead.

Doppio is an assistant to Diavolo, he is the human making the deals for him and his most trusted ally. He makes the deliveries and brings the pay back to Diavolo but in reality the two are one and the same. Doppio is a human soul trapped in an Diavolo’s body forced to share it and trade places when the dominant soul, Diavolo, wants the change to happen.

#★ OOC: Cayde's at it again!#so i made a dumb crossover au I will probably be doodling for awhile #vento aureo is one of my favorite things in the world #i love my italian gang boys #and i also love the dragon prince #so I smooshed them together and turned my gang boys into tragic cute elf boys #... honestly I might write a fic on this #hrm i just need a title for it...#I'll calll iiiit....#☆ Gang elves ☆#because Giorno wants to be a gangStar but he's a GangElf... okay that doesn't work #but it's my tag for now!!#... this is long and I am sorry

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