IC INBOX | RYSLIG
WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, JOJO. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 336.66.256.63 *** JOJO has joined 336.66.256.63 <JOJO...?> Technically this message doesn't exist. Jonathan doesn't actually have a laptop. I just needed an Inbox. | ||||
< JOJO >
[HE IS BEING POLITE NOW. HE PROMISES.] I do indeed, though it is admittedly rather difficult at times! Monsters are quite a lot stronger than the typical man unfortunately, and any proper punching sandbag is hardly proper now. I've made do by wrapping my hands in padding and striking stone, actually.
[jojo no]
<S.Holmes>
Perhaps I can offer you something better. I should like to test my mettle against an opponent whose skills I respect. Would you be opposed to a boxing match?
[he wants to punch.]
< JOJO >
I would love for the challenge! There are so very few here it seems, who are keen on the sport!
<S.Holmes>
Still, they do have boxing rings, and sturdy ones. Unless you know of a place in Bavan?
< JOJO >
I've heard of the place but it occurs to me I've never been there. What is it like?
I do know of a place that might host here in Bavan of course, but I can't help but be curious about the rings of a place I've not ever been!
<S.Holmes>
< JOJO >
I do wonder if my friend Speedwagon would have enjoyed such a place...I cannot say I would likely be comfortable there as more than a visitor, but it sounds like quite an interesting place.
It must certainly be an interesting boxing ring as well!
<S.Holmes>
I take it you are interested in seeing them for yourself?
< JOJO >
I am indeed interested however! I do love a good spar after all!
<S.Holmes>
< JOJO >
<S.Holmes> ?? Action?
When JoJo gets there, though...Holmes doesn't look great. It doesn't take a master detective to realize that the depression stubble and sleep-dep red eye rims mean Holmes has been through something bad, lately, and hasn't been looking after himself as much as usual.
He's leaning, arms and wings folded, on the wall beside the gate.]
ACTION!!!
Sherlock!
...You look horrid- have you fallen ill..?
[Naturally Jonathan has a rather innocent guess when these things happen.]
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[He waves a hand dismissively!]
It is nothing. Just a bit tired, that's all. [He looks up at Jonathan, and though his smile is thin, it's not false.] A spot of exercise will put me right.
[He sure is no longer arguing about first-name terms. He is too tired for that, and is coming to accept it more, among friends.
Enemies, though, it won't be tolerated.]
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Follow me.
[And Sherlock will lead Jonathan into Djavulenstad, making their way through the security-maze and into the city proper. Just as they are about to step in:]
Keep a tight hand on your wallet, and don't believe anything anyone tells you. This city is made up of thieves and con-artists. Best to assume everyone is lying until proven otherwise.
[And with that cheery warning, in they go!!]
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[He follows- and, with a nod, ponders the warning.] It sounds quite a lot like Ogre street, I have to say- I do wonder if Speedwagon would enjoy it here...
[Future Jonathan will have to tell him.]
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[He asks this curiosly, with more interest than judgment. Joestar didn't seem like the type! But, then again, neither does Sherlock. What's this posh lord gotten himself into?]
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[He has to pause a moment, as he breaks into a short laugh.] No- No not at all..!
Speedwagon is my greatest friend! While indeed he and his company attempted to mug me when I visited that alley on the hunt for the source of my father's illness, we quickly bonded after our fight, and until my very end he was the greatest companion a man could have!
[Speedwagon May Have Been Smitten.]
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Until your...end?
[Was this a meet-cute or a long con?]
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[Is. This. A. Mystery.]
I did not ask for them before, but...would it pain you too much to share the details surrounding your final days?
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As I said, at the time I was seeking the source of my father's illness- a poison truly- and had traced it to Ogre street. He is the one who helped me to locate the peddler who sold it, and from there, who purchased it...my step-brother. We cornered him at my estate, but my step-brother had in his possession a mask that I had been investigating. What I describe now occurred a few months before my end, but I assure you this is quite vital. For this was the night that he made use of this mask to become something inhuman- a vampire of my own world's making. The fight between us took the home down in flames- and a great deal of cleverness, to outwit his strength. T'was Speedwagon who pulled me safely out from the threshold of this building, and brought me to a hospital to recover, and despite his lack of skill in what would be needed to face him, he accompanied me the moment we realized he'd survived. In theory, I was then successful the second time...
[But Jonathan sighs.]
Sometime later, my wife and I set out for our honeymoon- but one of Dio's crafted ghouls, reanimated corpses, had survived to salvage what was left of him. His head. They caught me quite off guard- they turned much of the residents of the boat before I was aware of what was occurring, and so we were quite trapped. With all I could, down to my final breath, I was able to pin him in place that Erina could escape- with the infant of another passenger in hand, and unbeknownst to myself, our future child.
[As he explains that final end, he briefly runs a hand over his throat. But ah, he pushes it from mind.]
Speedwagon I'm told was quite distraught over this incident...he did what he could to clean his act in fact, though, when he arrived here I fear that being left without much in the way of resource tempted him to return to the life of a street thug, at least until it rather backfired upon him!
[The man sighs.] ...I do miss him...he was quite a wonderful friend, truly the first I'd had in fact. My step-brother did a rather good job of making sure I had none growing up after all.
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Holmes takes all this in -- a murderous step-patricide, a vampire-creating mask, multiple failed attempts at slaying this vampire, a mutually assured death on a boat, and through all of this -- Mr. Speedwagon, apparently underprepared for it all.
Also, a gentleman thwarted from friendship by a brother not by blood. Hm. An incomplete puzzle, to be sure. But Holmes thinks he sees the shape of the pieces, even if he isn't convinced Speedwagon went straight due to his benefiting from Jonathan Joestar's death.
He'll keep that to himself, though.]
Very well! I shall cease my recriminations. If indeed he left behind his former livelihood -- [of, you know, stealing from travelers looking for cures for their ill fathers] -- then it speaks well of him.
Did you say Ogre Street?
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[Jonathan does frown at that though.] ....Though it's quite horrid to hear that such a terrible war arose that it took my son so swiftly from life as well...at least I've had proof that Joseph lived a much older life, as strange as it was to have that news.
[Ahem.] Yes, Ogre Street- it was an area of London, though suffice to say it was quite a lot more than one single road. Suffice to say, it received the name through its ferocious reputation as a slum. I was quite aware of that much myself- those attacking me sought only to feed their person, their fellows, their families. They did not attack me out of malice, so I softened my blows, knowing that it would be no trouble for me to soon find my way home after.
It was this, which caused Speedwagon to cease fighting with me, I was told.
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this is the part where i remember im pants at combat writing
THAT'S FINE WE'LL PAINT IT IN BROAD STROKES. ESTABLISH HOW IT BASICALLY WENT.
OKAY....I CAN DO THAT....
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