File: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure-Flow of Water.jpg (552.8 KB)
This is a story of lineages and organizations, of ill-defined martial arts and misremembered facts, of supernatural species and out of context foes ,of absurd abilities and gaudy outfits, dead dogs and inhuman parasites, non sequiturs and evil ubermensches, of continental treks and last second ass-pulls, intrigue and befriending (the nicer) enemies, of poorly utilized powers and mobsters of varying morality, of well-laid plans and the machinations of fate, of regaining what was lost and empowered tyrants, of amnesiacs and conspiracies, of delinquents and fortunes, and more..
But foremost, this is a saga of the conflict between good and evil, light and dark. Of the will to protect and better oneself, and the will to subjugate and destroy. Of repugnant villains and the chivalric heroes who oppose them. The story I am about to tell is but a sliver of the whole of this quest, this odyssey, this… adventure.
The year is 1960, November 3rd. It is a Thursday. This is when we will start our story, but first, a few notes.
It is 955 AD. A woman whose name would translate into “Carved Tusk” from what would be later known as the Dorset Culture, in northwest Greenland, develops what would later be known as a stand, after drinking water that collected in the divots of a sacred meteorite. Translated, it would be known as「Song of Turning and Spinning」.Taking the form of a humanoid-seal scrimshaw figure, it would allow her to swap the souls of items, people, and animals, making bone as flexible as leather, leather as hard as bone, making snow animate with human movement, and humans as easy to break as snowmen. It is 960 AD, after defending her people from Thule invaders, she perishes after killing 100 enemy soldiers. She is the first Stand user in History to name their stand after a musical reference.
In 1031 AD, Vikings fled settlements in what they referred to as Vinland, after the quantity and quality of grapes found there. This is due to attacks on the settlements, not by the native peoples referred to as “Skraelings” by the Vikings, but by a Mesoamerican Vampiric Lord. After stealing the face of a native wife of one of the colonists, she makes her way from Greenland, to Iceland, to Norway, bringing with her a quantity of stone masks. Hoping to escape fierce competition from other vampires in the new world(unbeknownst to her, there are also vampires and stone masks in the old world), she is defeated thanks to the efforts of a party consisting of a Tibetan monk, a Swedish Berserker, A Norman Noble, A Fatimid Scholar, a Kara-Khanid Archer, and several dozen helpful, precocious children. All of these individuals learn Hamon from the monk, (save the sidekicks) and do some whacky shit with it.
Showing all 28 replies.
>>
File: Wodajo Ańjọrìn.png (50.1 KB)
>>6422860
It is 1328 AD, and Mansa Musa, 9th ruler of the Mali Empire, develops a fascination with meteoric iron, after an Arabic scholar demonstrates its power as a catalyst, giving a courtier the ability to preserve life with salt, while sustaining the organism itself. Mansa Musa proceeds to purchase and acquire as much Meteoric Iron as he can, alien virus infused or otherwise.
It is 1860 AD, the younger brother of a certain George Joestar, a one Stuart Joestar, leaves England and begins serving in the Royal navy, eventually serving on HMS Prometheus, being present during the annexation of Lagos, serving for many years, and eventually marrying a Nigerian woman. He never sees his nephew, one Jonathan Joestar.
Our Protagonist is one Wodajo Ańjọrìn, a Lagos Construction Firm Clerk. He is 21 years old, and he has recently gotten a promotion, increasing his salary from 34 Nigerian pounds a month, to 36 Nigerian pounds a month. He lives well within his means, and seldom goes drinking. He is less social than many of his peers, and tries to live a quiet life. His job involves going over building permits, and making sure everything is in order. Ever since Nigeria's independence from Britain a month ago, he has had an increase of responsibilities, though he remains on top of everything. His mother, Amina Ańjọrìn, has recently passed away, leaving him her house. While not stately, it is a nice home, 2 floors with access to power and water, and little risk of water damage from the predominantly swampy soil of Lagos. His father, one James Adeola, was a governmental clerk, but died when Wodajo was a boy. He has no siblings. He has, to his knowledge, no living relatives. He has some European heritage, but it is almost entirely evident in his bright green eyes, a trait not shared by either of his late parents.
Currently, he is in bed. It is 10:30 pm, and he has a long day ahead of him. A water treatment plant is under construction, though already active, and permits are to be processed for the construction of additional storage tanks, a time consuming, boring process. Moreso, it will likely take up part of his Saturday as well, something he is dreading.
Suddenly, our hero is startled awake by a noise. A loud clatter, like things getting smashed open, is emitted from downstairs. Probably Drunken revelers, celebrating newfound self determination, or merely using it as a pretext to getting drunk.
What should our Hero Do?
>Grab something sturdy as a weapon and investigate the noise.
>Lock the Door and Go Back to sleep.
>Yell outside, Letting Neighbors know there is a intruder(s)
>Shout that you have a gun( you don’t) and you aren’t afraid to shoot
>Other [Write-in]
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
File: tegaki.png (26.2 KB)
>>6423277
Grabbing a coat rack, our hero creeps downstairs, armed with a pseudo polearm, shaped like a man-catcher of old. It's constructed of solid hardwood, and in addition to being a hefty bludgeoning tool, it can also be used to keep distance between you and your attacker. Our hero is glad he didn't sell it like he was planning to, as he has little need for a coat rack, making a point of using hangers. As he creeps down the stairs, aware of the hefty and unwieldy nature of his improvisational weapon, he trips.
After tumbling down the stairs, thankfully landing on the carpet in the... landing, Wodajo turns to look at the stairs. To his shock and horror, he finds they are not, in fact, the stairs he has ascended 45 minutes ago, give or take. They've... Shifted somehow, like if someone reflected the staircase in a puddle, then swirled and splashed the puddle. Furthermore, its as if the texture itself of the stairs has shifted, becoming almost fuzzy, like looking through rough glass. Other than that, nothing has changed regarding the stairs. Another clatter, like someone is throwing furniture, coming from the kitchen. You creep down the hallway, with a sore head you are ignoring in favor of adrenaline. Nothing has changed or been altered regarding the frequency or tone, so in all likelihood, whoever it is, they didn't notice, the racket you made going unnoticed in favor of the racket they are making.
You see the whole place is warped, similar in fashion to the staircase from before, like you're drunk, though you aren't, and it is enough to make you dizzy. Peeking around the corner to look at the intruder, you see him. An older man, with a vest and shorts, and a bucket hat. He's clutching a bottle like it's the only thing stopping him from falling off a cliff. You think you recognize him. One of your neighbors was having renovations done, a new backyard garden, you think, and this was one of the men working on it. His choice of outfit was memorable to say the least. His features are flush with drunkenness, and he moves around in a sort of haze, like his feet aren't entirely under his control. You notice, though, with each step, the floor tiles push themselves to his feet, the once perfect pattern on them now ruined from his walking about. Taking a swig from the bottle in his possession, he flips his head upside down. Immediately, all the things on the counter he is looking at fly up and hit the cupboards above them. The man chuckles to himself, and takes another swallow of alcohol. You wouldn't drink to that, but hey, maybe he really hated that toaster.
>>
File: Ven Dipalme.png (68.8 KB)
>>6423390
As a matter of fact, the whole kitchen is trashed. Even the ceiling, you guess because of the whole “make things fall upwards. From what little you see of the rest of your home, you assume similar damage has befallen the rest of your bottom floor. This is really bad, because while the home is nice, you inherited it, and you don't make the kind of money to repair this kind of damage.
What do you do?
>Rush him with your weapon.
>Yell at him to leave
>Distract him
>You’ve seen enough, head back upstairs
>Other [Write-in]
>>
>>6423391
Okay, lets start analysis.
Key points seems to be "falling upwars", and "distortion".
Fistly, I think if we let him look at Wodajo, he could cause damage with mere sight.
So, if we attack we should do it either quickly, stealthily and go for a knock-out (which stand will probably protect him from but thats metagaming) or from distance and indirectly.
Thing is, I honestly yet to have any real working idea - how. He is architect so he should have extensive knowledge of a structural integrity of the house and stuff like that.
>>6423391
QM, would it be possible for distortion as been observed before to make the first floor ceiling cave in?
If it is possible, I have an extremely stupid but "since it`s JoJo it might work" plan.
>Put some alcholol bottle to the ceiling in one of the rooms in such a way that when looking at it from the door ceiling will cave in directly at the intruder. Then attract his attention to the room and hide. When ceiling will start to fall on him, atract his attention to ourself. so he wouldn`t be able to defend from debris.
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
File: tegaki.png (29.9 KB)
>>6424140
Charging the man, you whack him on the head with the coat rack, knocking him down to the ground.
Either through coincidence, or careful utilization of whatever strange powers he has, he shifts his focus to the floor you're standing on, causing it to buckle and bend under you, toppling you as well. You both stand up, and you grab the coatrack as you do so. It is cumbersome, and though clearly not intended for this, it works fairly well.
The Man Opposite to you, focuses his warping gaze on you, causing the fabric of your night wear to start deforming, though thankfully, nothing seems to be happening to you. Clearly the drunkards powers are limited to the inanimate.
You stand ready to strike, and he lurches towards you. Swinging at you with a left hook, his right still holding on to his bottle of liquor, you back up just in time. Again, he looks down at your footing, and he crosses his eyes on purpose, pulling the floor and stretching it, whilst also blurring it. As Wodajo is knocked down again, the 60+ year old out of shape man decides not to swing on his opponent, a healthy 21 year old who is armed with a heavy, blunt object.
Tilting his head at an angle, he causes all of the items and objects to slide and fall sideways, onto our protagonist. thankfully, the knives are in a drawer, and not out and about. The miscellaneous items still hurt though.
Suddenly, Wodajo has a realization. Running at him once more, he aims for the hat, not the head, and knocks it down over the intruders eyes. The floor no longer catering to the drunken wobbles of the man, he stumbles down, shattering the base of his glass bottle on the tile flooring. As soon as the glass breaks, In an instant, the house returns to normal, no longer altered in form. The man appears to be unconscious, and his face is now lined with cracks, lined with blood, as if it was him who shattered on the floor, not his bottle.
What to do?
>Toss the Man out of your house, and go to sleep.
>Tie the man up, and cover his eyes
>Get police
>Investigate, do some snooping about.
>Other[Write-in]
>>
>>
>>
>>