Chapter Text
-England 1868-
Raining.
Those accursed heavens crashed down upon the Earth, accompanied only by the gelid wind forcing itself into the vicinity, like sharp knives from the North. Misfortune laced herself about the air, bringing about a sweetly poisonous humidity, singing her lament. The skies themselves wept in their sorrow, an unspoken divinity about the words they uttered, language unknown to man. Hymns that could only be trepidation for the future.
The fall of a bloodline. And all it took was an inattentive driver and a miry road.
He emerged from the darkness of the forest, a balding elder man of stocky build, leering over at the grisly sight. He grinned. Like vulture to fresh road-kill. “Hey. Look at that wreck!” He cackles, a shrill, violent sound that rips from his throat. The death-stench all around seemed to provide more amusement than disgust for the sick individual.
And well. His companion almost threw up on the spot.
She was awe-struck, far unlike the man she’d come along with, gagging violently at the vile early stage of rot.
Not a pretty sight to behold.
What once was so beautiful was now something so terribly unsightly. Where once had stood strong support and brand-new shiny paint were regiments of spears sprouting from the ground like fresh bamboo.
And what had once been a happy family was a mere spatter of sanguine saturating the ground.
How dreadful… But the money involved wouldn’t be.
The elder re-adjusted his hat, eagerly making his way down from the muddy slope, nearly clawing his way through the carnage to get a better view of it all. Damned be the grime accumulating on his shoes and cloak.
His mind was one track. Racing like blood-hounds at a whiff of deer’s blood. ‘Money. Money. Money.’
Delicately, the woman, merely half his age followed suit. A petite thing, young enough to be his daughter, carefully lifted her purple-skirt as though she were born noble (she certainly hadn’t been) and too travelled down. Albeit with far more apprehension.
She could not help but have her pallid features be stained by the event – haunted by what was transpiring. Nausea threatened once more to bubble up here throat. Steadily increasing as she closed the distance between herself and the wreckage.
The two halted for a second, now unsure of what to do next, both soaking and drenched in mud.
Then! A spark glinted in the man’s eyes!
A body with dark blue hair, corpse-pale, motionless with a thin trickle of blood trailing from his mouth down to his neck. Dead. Surely.
Jackpot.
“They must’ve slipped into the mud and fallen off the cliff,” the elder explained, flashing a toothy grin.
She nodded in return; shuddering.
He only smiled further, inspecting the garments donned by the recently deceased, “boy. These nobles sure do have some fancy clothing.” A little soap and water would do the trick. But this wasn’t nearly enough.
“Look! That woman inside is dead but the baby is alive!” The woman caught the attention of the elder, cringing at the gore, knowing well how excruciating that must’ve been. “She… must’ve protected it…” The woman’s voice melted in her throat, noting that the baby had been unscathed, perhaps God really did provide the occasional miracle.
“A baby?! Who cares about a baby?!”
Down. She pushed away that warm feeling of admiration for the dead mother down. She didn’t need it. She didn’t want it. Guilt would only hold her back here.
But she couldn’t help but muse. Was the woman kind? Did she only feel love for the child she wanted to protect? She’d never know whether or not her son was fine in the end. Of course not.
The dead will never know if all their last messages really went through. And that made it all the more beautiful. A selfless sacrifice for an uncertain outcome.
She and this woman were so unlike. So different. Even though her dress would forever remain stained, and her face no longer smiling, her radiance would last forever. Longer than the life that she’d live. Undoubtedly. An angel.
And so what did that make the poor girl watching the family get robbed? No angel on Earth for sure.
She grit her teeth. Would judgement day accept her prayer of mercy when the day came? No. It would not. Not the sinners like her. And that was just how the world worked.
Wasn’t it?
She the barmaid, and she, the noble. Perhaps the two could’ve been friends if they’d met before this. Perhaps she’d have been cast away with scorn for being as filthy as she was.
The elder huffed in annoyance. Huh. She supposed she hadn’t learned his name. She watched closely, quiet, knowing well that she was making his patience wear thin. She was far too soft for his taste, doe-like-eyes, probably somebody he thought was easily malleable to his true tastes.
His eyes widened when he inspected the noble’s hand more thoroughly, such an expensive-looking ring could probably pay for an entire restaurant if he managed to find an unsuspecting buyer. Oh how lucky he was today!
“What on Earth are you doing? ” she hissed, begging her body to listen to her will to stop him. But. It was though she was frozen. Complacently standing still.
Of course she knew what he was doing. She wasn’t stupid . But surely the man could not be so low as to steal what was clearly a wedding ring… right?
Who was she kidding?
“Damn woman! What do you think I’m doing? I’m taking their jewellery!”
Biting her tongue, she mumbled, “sure. What a great idea…”
Something new quickly grabbed his attention before he thought to scold her. A brown leather suitcase. Hopeful eyes prayed for fat stacks of cash. “What’s this?”
Inside wasn’t anything he had expected, a stone mask, with strange hollow eyes. Emptier than the abyss, canines moulded into a ghastly length, the very core of this mask was evil. She could feel it. And she breathed a sigh of relief when he discarded the thing, “what a creepy mask… Worthless to me.”
He shrugged, “oi, give me a hand here.” He beckoned, and so the lady leaned in closer, “let’s yank out their teeth. They’ll fetch for a good pric-”
The corpse moved.
A hand clasped the elder’s with a vice grip. If he’d been any older, surely, this would’ve immediately sent the old geezer into cardiac arrest.
“You… You came to rescue me.”
What an unfortunate misunderstanding.
Yes. Let’s all thank the man who had just mere moments ago been plotting to tear the teeth from your very skull. Let’s rejoice as he sells them for a pretty penny and leaves you to rot in the dirt.
Glassy blue eyes were brought to tears as the nobleman attempted to stare at the wretched wreckage. But he knew better than to turn his neck and further aggravate his wounds. “Thank you for taking care of me…” he continued, “my wife and child… are they alright?” His voice was more of apples than a real question. Eyes quickly fading of hope as the three sat in silence broken only by the rain.
“Everyone is dead…” the elder began, quickly getting a whack from the lady. “Except for your child!” He corrected himself quickly with a small cough. Not forgetting to glare daggers at the woman. She could only grimace back. Oh. She was so fed up with this smug man who’d promised her a good time.
George wept, openly, but without sound. “I wish I could’ve taken the place of my wife… Jonathan… Jonathan. Thank God you’ve survived.”
The father reached for his pocket. “Hm.. I’d like to thank you. But I’ve seem to have lost my ring and wallet in the crash.”
The barmaid did not miss how her partner shuffled at that.
“Perhaps this is fate. My name is George Joestar. I must thank you for saving my life. Please tell me your name whilst I am still conscious.”
She opened her mouth. Only to then again close it. Of course he wasn’t asking her. It wasn’t a name worth remembering. But she nearly gave it anyway. Just to stop the other from doing s-
“Dario Brando. At your service.”
"Mr. Brando... The Joestars will not forget our debt to you..."
And Bianca L/N’s name was lost to time.