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All he had seen since he woke up was a flash, and now he was cold. Too cold. His body felt familiar, yet foreign. Smaller. He pinned that to clearly no longer being under the effect of the Joestar blood, but when he felt a suspicious lack of neck scar he panicked a little. He grabbed at himself, like a neckbeard looking for their wallet to appease a stripper that was stroking their ego. It was his body from a century ago. And he was breathing cold breaths. He was alive? Had being killed by Jotaro somehow sent him to wherever he was and make him alive again, in the non-vampire way? Feeling defenceless, he reached out for his stand – and it appeared. Even if he wasn’t a vampire suddenly, at least he still had a stand. He calmed down a little and tried to work out why he was here, and where he was. And he was also now calm enough to realise he was in the middle of a blizzard created for the purpose of making life easier for the author. For the sake of a wholesome Christian holiday, he was also in his OVA outfit without ridiculous crotch-highlighting glare-y bullshit because I am NOT writing that. However, this was not warm enough to hold off hypothermia, and Dio did not want to test that. Through the ‘bullshit fucking snow’, he finally spotted a large building. Probably. The visibility wasn’t the best out here.
~*~
A second ago, Speedwagon could’ve sworn he was lying on the floor as any old man in cardiac arrest would do. Our cockney hero was now lying on the floor of someone else’s house. He grabbed his hat. Strangely, a bowler hat type that wasn’t his stolen Italian Zeppeli hat. He got up. Wait, usually he needed a stick to get up? His joints didn’t click, was that medication the doctor gave him finally working? He squinted around an unfamiliar room and a mirror caught his eye. His hair, long again, bounced as he moved to a better angle with ease again to give himself a reflection. And for some reason, his young self stared back with confusion on par to his own. He glared angrily at the fucker, and they did so too. As Speedwagon lifted his arms to fight the familiar asshole, they did too. Identically. The thought that maybe he was young again was optimistic, but finally occurred. A finger prodded his scar and he trod closer to the mirror.
“Speedwagon?” The original owner of the awful checked black and white hat surprised the recipient of the question with his accent, and he stopped fucking around with the mirror to yelp in an ear-breaking pitch and leaped up.
“Zeppeli?” He asked straight back from behind a barrier of forearms he put up. Zeppeli didn’t even respond. They both looked at each other for an awkward second while a blizzard quietly raged outside. Zeppeli also felt strange, as he could swear he was being cut in half a minute ago. To add to the confusion, Jonathan walked in, making a sum total of three men questioning if this is the afterlife.
~*~
Like Speedwagon downstairs, he was suddenly rid of all old age aches and pains. But the memory of those felt more distant, and as he flexed in the mirror with his cool hair once again, he nearly cried when he saw Caesar. He wept like a baby when he tackle-hugged the equally lost Italian off the floor. Lisa-lisa just… stood there. Also crying, but in a more dignified style and silently, so when Joseph finally was convinced in half Italian to ‘let me go you oaf’, he made a stupid ‘BAAH’ noise at his mother in shock. It was now her turn to grab the blond and lift him off the floor.
~*~
A familiar ‘BAAH’ noise prompted the dubbed ‘stardust crusaders sans Joseph’ group to stop their own reunion and they saw he young version of their dear friend watching a young (?) woman aggressively hug a blond with poor fashion tastes.
“Good grief.” And there it was, another few words Jotaro ‘Goes Grocery Shopping At Hot Topic’ Kujo knew of English. He knew that he wasn’t that fluent because he never really practised what his mother taught him, but luckily his persona of ‘strong silent type’ would compensate. However, soon events would force him into bettering his English whether he partook or not.
~*~
The layout of the house was confusing, even to the author. But it was a Christmas special, so no one gave a crap – the entire story was already bullshit. In yet another room, the duwang gang stood around Kira, who was sobbing. All he had said so far was ‘I just want a quiet life’ and other similar remarks. Eventually, they seemed to realise that he didn’t bring them here somehow with his bullshit exploding stands and they began looking around too.
Slowly but surely, the entire population of the house was moving and greeting each other, barely making time to work out where they were. Only Speedwagon stayed in one room, and that was because of his underlying inferiority complex. Coincidentally, he was the only one in the room near the door. This would be important later, but right now you are free to (easily) predict what will happen.
~*~
Thoughts flooded back to him. Panic, a feeling he hadn’t felt for millennia. He was still rock solid in a non-innuendo way, but his sudden moving broke his shell that formed in the vacuum of space. The crack that formed was heating up to ‘hot as balls’ and would even roast him alive, so using all the strength he could muster from this sudden warmth, he snapped his cold prison open. He was approaching earth REALLY fast, and if it weren’t for his heightened reflexes, he would’ve just made a crater and probably hurt himself in the process. But his wings spread, and he slowed down a mile before slamming into what appeared to be a blizzard. The snow was welcome on his burnt flesh from plummeting into the atmosphere, but it soon healed. He was hardly wearing the most protective clothing, if any at all. The ground sprung up in front of him, and he yelped a little and pulled up. An ungraceful ‘whump’ into the snow marked just before he had healed up. The cold now stung more than it helped, and he threw his hair back like a Maybelle advert – he would match one precisely, but his face was more of a McDonald’s advert. His massive titties melted a few bits of snow that stayed attached (who wouldn’t stay attach to those abs?) and he breathed a little of the fresh atmosphere he so missed. Then he began sniffling, and that became small sobbing. He didn’t notice another flash behind him, and his dysfunctional family who murdered you instead of grounding you. He did, however, notice bickering.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but have some decency, Santana.” Not really liking the nudist look himself, he improvised actual clothing by creating an abomination of ribs that covered his ‘area’ in a grotesque version of shorts that reached up his back. “That’s better.” It wasn’t.
“Kars, what’s going on?” Esidesi didn’t really think he would know either, but it was worth a shot. In response, the bird-man made a sort of ‘squark’ noise. “Lord Kars?” Wamuu was a little concerned too. “It’s so lonely in *hic* space,” Kars managed to warble out, trailing off at space. The existential crisis had hit him hard. Together, they herded the ultimate being to what looked like a building, and hopefully warmth.
~*~
Speedwagon was slightly overhearing an argument in the next room over about some Italian named Tonio trying to make food for the entire house as a coping mechanism for whatever the hell was happening. Jonathan’s familiar voice was desperately trying to stop him from making another bowl of lasagne, and failing. “At least don’t use that magic… uh, ‘stand’ was it called? Please make a regular lasagne without the magic.” The voices in the next room faded again as our bushybrow man went back to staring into empty space. He was interrupted by a faint knock on the door. The volume in the kitchen stayed level, and no one replied when Speedwagon announced ‘he’d get it’. The door wasn’t locked, luckily. But a scream caught in his throat as he saw a huge man in a yellow outfit looking like depression incarnate. This wasn’t some beefy and yellow santa, and the smaller man quickly recognised his face – but the expression on it didn’t really fit what little he had seen of him.
“D-Dio?” His vocal chords didn’t raise above a whisper, and the scent of evil that had hit before felt like a bootleg. It was more of an aura of ‘I might pose a threat when insulted’ rather than a stench of ‘I am two seconds from ripping out your ribcage and framing a small orphan for your murder.’ And what little evil did still cling to the man slipped a little when he made a noise that sounded like a child that just dropped their ice cream. Speedwagon, following a noble path of ‘fuck it, he seems docile enough and I won’t let him freeze to death’, stepped back and pulled Dio out the cold. He closed the door before more snow could get in and began wondering how many seconds he had to live. In a half-frenzied state of trying to extend these seconds, he made a ballsy move and gently hugged Dio, hoping that maybe affection would soften him. He prayed to every god out there and wished for a christmas present of not having this rugby player choke him with his own intestines.
“What are you doing?” Dio asked with the desperation of the significantly shorter man who didn’t know either.
“You looked cold and sad,” was the response that resembled a ten second answer to the last and hardest question on a maths test. In a state of intoxication by not knowing where he was or why he was and lonely depression, he murmured something like ‘you are so nice but why’ and hugged a little back. In the midst of the muscly and slightly rib-crushing hug, what little aura of evil he had left rolled its eyes and packed its bags, not looking back as it went out back into the blizzard. Speedwagon presumed something must be deeply wrong with the universe for this to be happening, which was partially true, and somehow maneuvered Dio onto the long sofa he was sat on a minute ago. Joseph walked into the room, saw a young version of his grand-uncle hugging the man who threw a knife into his throat (who looked to be sobbing), and walked straight back out the room. But Dio wasn’t the only one having an existential crisis.
~*~
So much for being the ultimate being, Lord Kars. He was still an emotional wreck being dragged up the steps to this human building. Fashion disaster Santana tried to go to just open the door, but was told to ‘fucking knock, don’t just walk right into their human thing’. He knocked slowly and sarcastically, not know that inside a certain two disasters where the only ones who could hear over Tonio being dragged crying away out of the kitchen and other such background dialogues.
Dio didn’t really want to let go, but was told firmly to like a large dog by the man he had grabbed the waist of. He slid off like he was drunk, and Speedwagon was free to get the door. His first thought was ‘those shorts look weirdly like ribs’ and his second was ‘THAT’S THE PILLAR MAN GUY THAT JOSEPH KILLED OH MY GOD WHY IS HE HERE’. However, Santana didn’t recognise him back. ‘Hey, the shorts aren’t that bad right? Why is he looking at me like that?’ Sadly, Joseph had decided to face his fears and had walked back in the room just on time to see the awful fashion man. His typical ‘OH MY GOD’ was lost to the clamour behind him in the doorway. They both posed dramatically at each other, bracing for a fight, but before either could yell any cool pre-fight lines Kars staggered in, nearly knocking a vase over with his wings.
“Joseph?” He pronounced it with the voice of a 3 year old walking into their parents’ room in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare. A familiar voice and face but both held in a way that matched Dio’s position sprawled miserably on the sofa, still not moving from where he had fallen after letting go of Speedwagon, who was really wanting some whiskey about now. Joseph was so confused at this sight that he didn’t even move when Kars staggered forward to grab his shoulders.
“Joseph, it’s so lonely in space.” Yep, he was just as fucked as Dio. “What’s the point of ruling the world if you’re just gonna kill it, then you aren’t ruling anything anyway and everyone hates you.” He trailed off at the end, finishing his profound thought that he had realised while crying alone in space. It sounded considerably less philosophical said like a crying child. “Anything is the ultimate being if there are no other beings, Joseph.”
“That’s, uh, really deep Kars.” Joseph had braced for an attack, but couldn’t brace for this bullfuckery. He gave an incredibly awkward pat and stared at Dio, still on the floor. Wamuu looked to Esidesi and Esidesi shrugged in return.
~*~
“Tonio, it’s not that bad, it’s just some sort of weird family reunion with friends.” Josuke chided the only Italian in this house he was familiar with while Okuyasu did the same from the other side.
“WHERE ARE WE?” His confusion had turned from a thirst for cooking into watered down anger.
“Some sort of weird house I think.” While it wasn’t helpful dialogue, Okuyasu sure was right. Koichi was about to interject when a woman wearing a Victorian outfit walked past, equally confused as everyone else. A lavender scarf matched her purple but faded clothes, and she even had purple bags under her eyes. While most people were attached to some sort of group, this woman was only followed by an incredibly disgusting ogre that resembled a human male. “Dario, where are we?” a soft voice claimed the flesh sack following her was called Dario. Dario grunted, and told her to shut up. Josuke ignored the sewer rat’s words and, using the english he had practiced (unlike Jotaro), he asked if she was lost like them.
“This place is weird, I’m glad someone else speaks english. Do you know where this is? I- “
“Who’re you talking to?” Dario’s few teeth seemed like they would fall out at any given moment.
“This young man with the superb hair may know something!” Once Josuke had worked out and verified that ‘superb’ was good, he smiled and put this woman on his internal good list. Translating was harder when you were doing it verbally, but he remembered seeing the word a few times on the internet and made another mental note on how it was pronounced. Dario also didn’t know that his next words would be his downfall.
“Hair? That looks more like an overgrown slug. Get ov-” He didn’t have time to finish that sentence before an invisible fist punched him across the room. Rohan, sitting at the table he had gracefully flown over, winced in memory of when he had insulted Josuke’s hair. It was hardly sympathy though. He sipped at one of many cups of tea Tonio had made in his frenzy that were still spread equally all over the table. This may not sound like a long distance, but it was a conveniently long table, as if the author placed it knowing fully a use for it later on. The mysterious lady let out a dramatic and faint gasp. “Oh my!”
~*~
Slowly, Speedwagon had slouched and slid closer to Dio. He began sitting next to him uniformly, but now he was softly snoring against Dio’s back, who was engaged in a two-way therapy thing with Kars. He put a hand against the huge ex-vampire’s back and rubbed his face against it, not realising what he was doing in the waking world. Dio felt slightly comforted, but heard Kars’ next words and forgot entirely about the snoozing meddler.
“Wait, YOU created the masks?” An intrigued tone that didn’t fully hide Dio’s excitement. Esidesi perked up a little from watching over Santana and Wamuu as Kars got to a cool part of his story about his life. Dio continued, not giving time for an answer.
“I used one of them, you know. It lasted over a century, but then I ended up here. Next time, the whole ‘burning up with energy of the sun’ thing needs to be fixed, and I think a stand can make some strange errors.” Dio still wanted a non-bullshit reason as to why he just exploded when punched in the shin, and he hoped the creator would understand.
“A stand… You mentioned all of that, but never showed me yours. Bring it out.”
“If you aren’t a stand user, you can’t see it.”
“It can interact with physical objects, right? I can figure something out as the ultimate being.” And sure enough, Dio summoned his stand. It still retained its huge figure from after he drained Joseph like a caprisun and therefore wasn’t hard to miss. Bat ears used the echoing around the room to work out its exact shape, and infrared vision sensed it in more detail. Smelling something off in the room, Speedwagon stirred and realised his was grabbing onto Dio. The weird scent of power in the room was put on hold as he untangled his arms from the other’s waist. He sat back upright and felt a blush, but then the power called again and he realised something big was floating in the centre of the room. He retreated into himself out of fear of the unknown and, ironically enough, leant back on Dio in the process.
“What are you doing?” Dio’s voice felt like velvet on his ears, a contrast to the yelling he remembered that night at the castle. But it still took him by surprise a little.
“Wh-What’s in the centre of the room? I smell something powerful, is that one of those stands you mentioned earlier?” The beefy one of the two smirked in the knowledge he was asleep just now, and gently told him it was.
“Oh.” The small one of the two stared a little more, then realised what he was doing and sat up again, just like before, because what he doing was a little too comfy. Kars rolled his eyes and they went back to talking.
~*~
Yukako made her hair flip itself elegantly without even needing to move her hands or head. A plus of having autonomous hair as a stand. She also was frequently asked what products she used, to which she usually answers ‘just shampoo and conditioner’, which earnt some ‘stop fucking lying to be modest’ looks but kept non-stand users from calling the government. It was a change to be honest, and she asked Josuke to translate back ‘it’s like one of those powers most of the people here have, like my friends’. Josuke was tired from beating the living daylight out of Dario, but kept him alive by healing him alongside the furniture he broke in the process. He spat out a similar sentence back at the mysterious british lady who had arrived with the bastard that insulted his hair. A man yelling in a french accent with cool grey hair chased a boston terrier behind him. He appeared to be crying. Another man, a weedly 16 year old with red hair and two scars over his eyes, gave a half-hearted pursuit.
Slowly, all these strangers began mingling outside their social circles more and more, and otherwise impossible friendships flourished around the main room. At some point, Danny had appeared in the house and began being dumb but lovely in Iggy’s eyes. Mikitaka, being an alien, found nothing wrong with Santana’s shorts. When Okuyasu found his brother Keicho a room over, a really heartfelt reunion took place, and the whole house seemed to be alive. Kira had taken to sitting in the ‘four really beefy Aztecs and a slightly less beefy man having an extended no homo moment with another smaller brit’ room. He had seen Shigekiyo alive again and knew that this was the better choice for a quiet time. What was the deal with that kid’s head (and shape in general) anyway? ‘And David Bowie and a student or maybe an alien’ was quickly appended to the end of the long-winded name.
~*~
These people were lovely, but she didn’t feel right. No one she knew (asides from a few new friends) were around this place. She had declined to give her name away in the semi-stress of the situation, but had always been occupied in a handful of rooms. She was curious about the room that sat across her. And, as most normal humans would, she got up to investigate this room.
“Excuse me.” She was let through by the man who told her earlier about how he hailed from the Middle East and had shown her his strange fire power from his own stand. He had little wiggly lines from the inside corner of his eyes down past his chinbone that bent as he smiled. Avdol went back to discussing the baby a young version of Joseph held, that they had dubbed Shizuka when they first adopted her. The room’s inhabitant’s fit the description of what little she had heard. No one payed much attention to her, but it was nice to be out of a crowd.
The yellow one struck a chord within her. He hadn’t turned around to see her yet. She leant a little forward to try and see his face. A familiar person looked back in his usual manner, but his expression lit up like a child realising they were at Disney world. All motions of poisoning and killing people to further himself were, for the first time in over a century, dispelled and shoved back in his mind, like a usual VIP customer being dragged out screaming by bouncers. She looked back at his familiar face, and to confirm her suspicions she pushed the hair away from his left ear. And there the three little dots that she was so used to.
“Mum?” Speedwagon nearly fell back from this aggressive show of family love, and from how different he sounded. Everyone else in the room was simply confused. Feelings that were supressed for over a century welled up, blinking in the sudden light, and Dio prompted the first genuine and heart-felt hug for all that time. It was nice to watch something so beautiful yet on levels of backstory unknown to the people in the room. Everyone in the room was silent with varying amounts of awkwardness.
~*~
“What if the people who live here get mad that we ate all their food?” Stroheim posed a valid question.
“Well, in our defence, we did all seem to just appear through magic in their home. We could pay them back, anyway.” Holy Kujo watched as her son’s… friend?... with cherry earrings did some weird cherry-tongue trick at Jotaro, who looked pretty unamused. She saw him murmur something, and despite not hearing it directly, could still imagine his ‘yare yare’ line. She swore that his hair noodle was moving on its own occasionally. Wait, Kakyoin was his name, and he was the one student Jotaro risked himself to save. Everyone began moving to the table, and all sorts of people chatted and sat around, waiting for the man named Tonio to bring out the promised feast.
George Joestar sat next to his biological son, Jonathan, who apologised profusely for nearly taking up two seats to Kira who was on his right. The pillar men were all indifferent (save for Kars, who was also apologising to Kira on his left) about their statures. We will never know if Dio would’ve done the same because he was too busy enthusing over his mother. At the sight of this man, Zeppeli initially considered killing him but realised that if the mask didn’t still affect him then he didn’t have a reason to care. Besides, he seemed more invested in fawning over his mother than world domination part 2.
“Caesar, we should show them that one trick!” Joseph tried to do the typical ‘clink glass with a fork a few times for attention’ but it became one thwack that left a crack in the side in his excitement. Everyone looked for a second. Joseph held the glass up high with his fingertips and tipped it upside down, earning woops and hollers from even the other side of the room. Other hamon users in the room picked up the trick fast, and did the same, causing a small uproar. Dio added ‘learn hamon’ to his list of ‘things to do now I am not a vampire’
“Hey! Watch THIS!” Loggins and Messina, instructors of Joseph and Caesar, both held a jelly water thing on their fingers because they decided to one-up the other hamon users present. Jonathan looked at the table, then earned a stern glace of ‘no’ from Zeppeli. He did it anyway.
The entire set of tables, glued together by their dead but hamon conducting wood, raised up. Everyone leaned back and saw Jonathan smiling gently, holding the entire thing up in one hand; the other hand was tucked in underneath the other arm, looking very modest. Even the pillarmen joined in with the clamour this time, and Rohan felt a new protagonist design in his head forming. Speedwagon nearly began crying, and when the table was back on the floor again he turned to Dio and tried the glass trick himself. He spilled about a shot glass onto the floor between then and nearly broke down on the spot. Seeing his mother concerned for this man and feeling unreasonably good with the world tonight, he pulled on Speedwagon’s hand and guided him back into the room they had been in for the last few hours.
In a different room entirely, Danny and Iggy lay down and ignored the humans making even more noise. Everyone was currently in there, and clearly energetic about something. They were glad the door was closed, because they now stood a slim chance of sleep. Dogs don’t really care for christmas. In the small room, there weren’t any humans. But a foul and booze-smelling goblin creature heaved in the opposite corner, and Iggy didn’t like it at all. It got beaten up by that one aggressive kid with the pompadour and a stand, then retreated into this room. You reek of shit, asshole. Stay down. The Fool whacked a wheel over his head again at the will of the mutt. Dario thought his day was going pretty painfully, but considering he never encountered Dio, he was pretty damn lucky right now.
~*~
Everyone loved Tonio’s food. It was mostly Tonio’s, anyway. A few ‘helpers’ tried to do their thing in the kitchen, and caught his wrath if they dared to enter with dirty hands. But right now, everyone was leaving the table, and Dio’s mother left a little early to see what Dio was still so occupied with. She walked around the corner and, in the room where they had a beautiful reunion and cry, Dio and Speedwagon were shoving their tongues down each other’s mouths next to the christmas tree. Their hands grabbed at each other’s waists and they both had their eyes closed in a frenzy. Dio’s mother walked out again.
~*~
Eventually, they stopped eating each other’s faces and lay down on the sofa this had all begun on. The blizzard that this had also begun with still showed no signs of stopping, and others in the house begun claiming furniture as a bed. The pillar men kind of settled in the same room as before, not really having a sleeping cycle but wanting to try it out anyway since the humans were all doing it too. Kars was the most persistent on this point, wanting to befriend every human he came across in a haze of ‘wanting to be a beautiful loved lord by my people’. A few rooms away, Jonathan was already snoring on Erina, who saw Zeppeli giggle at the sight from across the room. Danny curled up on what little there was of the bed that his huge owner didn’t take up. George had also claimed the sofa in the room, and as if he responded to his genetics doing the same, he was snoring face down.
Another room over, Joseph was using his larger physique as a spatula on Caesar, who was trying to claim the blue couch as his own. After the fifth time he struck the floor, he gave up and walked away, leaving Joseph to sprawl over the bed. He quickly jumped up in pain, and spotted the tack that the smug blond had placed facing upwards. Lisa lisa told them to ‘stop bickering, kids.’ Loggins and Messina did some sort of night-time stretching on the rug.
Yet another room away, the stardust crusaders all bitched over who suited which soft surface. Kakyoin was getting pretty bored, and a quiet but nightmare inducing scream that resembled a dying bird assured his dominance over at least the small bed.
The duwang gang at least had a peaceful night across two separate rooms, acting in everyone’s best interests. Kira had just left the room to sleep on the kitchen table, realising that it was comfier than sleeping in a room with other people like a normal person. He still did his stretches and fell asleep before 11pm, just to ensure he didn’t break his record.
‘But author,’ you cry, ‘what is this bullshit? Why is everyone happy? Are you about to kill someone? Why is everyone getting along and not even staying awake in favour of acting like a normal person would do and investigating? Where are they?’
The reason this is all so awful? Simple. I'm stupid as hell lol also ur mom gay i write what i WANT and HAIL CHAOS