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“You knew my father,” Giorno said.
It wasn’t a question. Polnareff was quiet for a long moment. Here, inside of Coco Jumbo, it was like he had a body again, and he knew he never had much of a poker face. Not like Giorno. That kid was hard to read, stoic like Jotaro. Patient, too, another thing he always struggled with. Here in the turtle, Polnareff was just spirit, so whilst Giorno or Mista or Trish (or Fugo, when he came back and Polnareff got to meet him, too) all looked as they did, growing up as the months passed, Polnareff’s form was less fixed. Sometimes he looked as he did when he died, sometimes he looked like when he was still on his revenge quest for Sherry, and anything else.
He had been quiet for a few minutes, but Giorno was still studying him. Polnareff sighed, slumping back onto the couch where he was sprawled. Perhaps it was apt he looked as young as the day that DIO died. “Where did you hear that from? And, what do you know about him?”
“From the Speedwagon Foundation. The same young man, Koichi, who was sent on their behalf has written a little further from what information about him he knows. It seems they are curious about me,” Giorno said. His hands were folded in his lap, and he was sitting with a perfectly straight back. Each strand of his golden hair was exactly where he had styled it, his black suit perfectly pressed.
“Hopefully not bad curiosity from them! Ah, yes, I knew him. I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it.” Polnareff felt his mouth drop into a frown as he shifted again, and said, “You never knew him, right?”
“I never did.”
Giorno had the look of him, sometimes, with his almost inhuman charisma and how everyone would turn to him like flowers to the sun. They were both blonde, that same golden blonde which looked more like it was taken from some religious paintings rather than reality. But he was kind, and he was still a kid. A good kid, one with a lot of responsibilities, but a kid.
Polnareff sighed again, and said, “I don’t know much about what he was like. It was twelve years ago, when a friend of mine’s mother fell ill due to a curse on their family. Well. Not a curse, I suppose. Your father had awoken a stand in himself, but apparently it awoke them in that whole family. He’s not… well, maybe there’s other kids out there. It’s the Joestar family, not the Brando family who were affected by his actions. Sorry, I’m all over, aren’t I?”
“Take your time. Would you like a drink?” Giorno stood up and went to the little fridge, getting a juice for himself and a can of pop for Polnareff.
He thanked Giorno and was glad of something to do with his hands, even if he didn’t drink it right away. “Your father, DIO, was adopted by the Joestar family over a hundred years ago. But apparently he was jealous of his brother, Jonathan, who is… if he’s Joseph's grandfather, he’s four generations back? He found a way to become a vampire and tried to kill Jonathan, and eventually succeeded shortly after his wedding night. But DIO had lost his body leading up to that, destroyed with sunlight powers which is a whole other thing. So when he killed Jonathan, he took his body, even though his coffin sunk to the bottom of the ocean and only got found back in the eighties.”
“His head is on another man’s body?” Giorno said, looking oddly thoughtful. “I suppose if someone is immortal, or near enough, they could graft themselves like that, but a vampire… I never knew they were real.”
“I don't know if there are many more. That’s a whole story in and of itself, but since I got a lot of it from the old man, some of it might be exaggerated.” Polnareff couldn’t help but chuckle, and he finally pressed down the tab of his can to take a drink.
“A story for later, as you say,” Giorno said, a faint smile on his face.
Polnareff nodded, and started again. “DIO had sworn revenge on the whole Joestar family, and, my friend Jotaro, his mother was going to die if DIO wasn’t stopped. He nearly killed me, even though I was walking to him half dead after… doesn’t matter. Right, DIO. He had been gathering Stand users to him as part of his desire for revenge and to amass power. I was one of them, at first, since he had promised to help me find the man who had raped and murdered my sister. Turns out, that bastard was another one of the Stand users he ended up hiring. Only found that out after I had left him. DIO had a real charm to him, so he had no problem getting people all around him. He’d stick people with this ‘flesh bud’ to make sure they wouldn’t leave, though, like a failsafe. I had one of those, until my friends got rid of it.”
He was still watching Giorno as he spoke, who was giving nothing of what he was feeling away. After a brief pause to see if he had any clarifications, Polnareff continued.
“That feels like a decent bit of what I knew him as. DIO was charming, but he had to be in control, you know? He had to be the biggest, the strongest, and he was a real showman about it, even when he was trying to kill someone. I know I’m a showman, too, don’t give me that look, Giorno!”
“I wasn’t giving you any sort of look,” Giorno said, with a very practiced innocent face. “Can I get you any snacks, Signor Polnareff?”
“Oh, go on. You’re lucky I’m very bribable.”
“Very bribable and very wise. The fridge has more of those chocolates you liked!”
Polnareff snorted but took the chocolates and thanked Giorno again, glad to see the kid had gotten himself something sweet as well. “Don’t think anyone would ever argue for ‘wise,’ but you’re the boss here, not me.”
Giorno was quiet for a moment, as he broke off a single perfect square of chocolate and carefully ate it. “What else?”
“About DIO? Well. I don’t know a lot, really. He was on his own under the sea for a hundred years. He cracked a bit when he was trying to kill my friend. Don’t know if he had been fighting that in himself the whole time, but it happened. I don’t really know him well, more what he’s done.” Polnareff took another drink of pop, feeling his own emotions cross over his face. “Sorry I don’t have anything more useful.”
“I did rather spring this on you.” Giorno very carefully broke off another square of chocolate, but held off eating it for a moment. “I only have one picture of him, and it's from the back. He’s blonde, but quite a lot larger than me.”
“Do you have it still?” Polnareff said, with a sinking feeling he knew the exact picture. He was surprised that Giorno had it in him, hidden amongst who knew what else in his wallet, but not surprised of the photo itself. “Did he hand these out like calling cards? Wait, he couldn’t have given one to the old man… Huh…”
“My biological mother had this as a memento,” Giorno said simply as he put it away again.
“He had gold eyes, so yours are different. You’re also not a vampire who’s hijacked your adopted brother’s body,” Polnareff said, which wasn’t eloquent, but it was true.
Giorno seemed to weigh that up for a moment, before he said, “Does that make Jonathan Joestar my father as well? If the body was his, but the mind DIO’s?”
“Uh.” Polnareff frowned as he turned that over for a moment. He took a drink, then said, “You don’t happen to have any star shaped birthmarks, do you?”
Giorno stared at him flatly.
“On your left shoulder?” Polnareff said with a nervous laugh. “I’m not being a creep, I know it's a weird question!”
Thankfully, Giorno spoke before Polnareff started babbling. “I do,” Giorno said. “And I know you’ve never seen it.”
Polnareff blinked at the kid for a moment before grinning. “That means you’re a Joestar, then. They’ve got this family birthmark, apparently Jonathan had it and all the ones following him do, too. From what I’ve heard about him, he seems to have been a real gentlemanly, good man. Never seen his picture, so I don’t know if you look like him.”
“I see,” Giorno said, his hands back in his lap. “I wanted to ask since the Speedwagon Foundation was sending more and more notices our way. I would rather have some information than go in blind.”
Whether that was the whole truth, Polnareff wasn’t going to needle him about, but it was still nice of him to share some intention. “Hey, whatever I can help with, I’m happy to. If there’s a man named Jotaro Kujo who’s been sending you shit, bring those letters down here and I’ll happily write him back for you!”
“He’s one of the friends you mentioned?”
“Yeah! Wait, if you’re a Joestar, too, then that means you’re his… uh, great uncle? I don’t know genealogy. But he’s solid, you’d like him!”
“I’ll bring them here next time anyway, since you know more about this group than me. Thank you for sharing this with me. I might take some time to research Jonathan as well and think on this, but I appreciate it,” Giorno said.
“Anytime.”
Giorno nodded a little to himself, but did not depart right away, staying to finish the drink and snacks with Polnareff. But he had a look in his green eyes that he had latched onto something. Polnareff was curious where this kid was going to go next. He was the sort of person who’d change the world, he had already! Not for power and taking it over, but for doing something good with that ambition. It was what had drawn all his friends to him.
And when Giorno stood to go, Polnareff said, “Don’t know if I said it properly, or if it's even something you’d worry about, since you’re more sensible than me at your age, but you’re your own man. Doesn’t matter if there’s things in you like DIO, hell, like both of them. Lots of things in you that are just your own. Including everything you’ve done.”
The kid paused for a brief moment, before offering a little flash of a smile. “I appreciate that, Signor Polnareff. It was nice speaking to you.” And when he turned to go, before he left this strange space, there was nothing in the lines of his back and shoulders, how he held himself, or what was visible of his face that looked like DIO, just a softness in his face that was his own.