Chapter Text
Prisoner MA-28141 thought he had a good run in his life. Did some noble things, did some vile things, charmed many a heart of girls around the globe, had a fulfilling and a bizarre life, worthy of a traveling mercenary. MA-28141 considered his incarceration from a philosophical standpoint, like his devilishly good luck catching up to him. How else could the authorities manage to put together a watertight case against him in what, really, was an awkwardly accidental death, earning him five years at Green Dolphin Street Prison.
He was no young man, well in his fifties, and though he barely showed signs of aging, if only in his graying temples, a few wrinkles here and there and a healthy stubble, his mind wandered. The man reclined on the bed of his cell, considering. What had he to show for his life? What would he do when his hands could no longer hold his weapon as steady as they did now, whenever he called it? He burned like a star, but would anyone notice him passing?
Actually, he’d strike that last thought. There were two boys, respectable men now, whom he’d grown a companionship with. The man crossed path with them in Egypt, tried to do a job alongside with the younger of two brothers, and then ended up in hospital, a companion for the older one. And after a good decade of no contact, fate brought him back together with the younger one. In Egypt, nonetheless. One bizarre adventure with the younger of brothers later, and the prisoner helped them deal with an extortion gang before sticking around. It warmed MA-28141’s heart to see the young man’s comics become such a hit they even ended up in the prison library. “Surreal humor…” the man chuckled to himself. “Just as weird as the kid’s prophecy book.”
His cell opened, and his cellmate, a mousy-looking guy walked in with a wide smile, a maniac under the guise of an unassuming cheerful clerk, carrying a tray of snacks. The guy liked to chat and discuss all the latest gossip, and at that point MA-28141 didn’t even try to shut him up. He was basically a free radio, and sometimes he even said something useful. The prisoner checked the three watches adorning his left hand. As always, his cellmate got into the queue early, but waited until the end of the lunch to eat in peace of their shared cell instead of the cafeteria. Why would he stay there if he didn’t eat? To gather all the latest rumors, of course, because information had always cost a pretty penny.
“A joyous day! Had to pat Xander on the back, it seemed he actually tried to choke on the potatoes, and that just wouldn’t do! First, he’s too handsome to die, and second, he still owes me money, so he’s not allowed to end his own existence yet. Also, my good sir, did you hear the most exciting of news?” the man went on, an odd thing, even more excited than usual. Something truly noteworthy must have happened. “Johngalli just died! Got bodied so hard! Snuck into the female prison, got shot between the eyes when he tried to help a girl escape. Oh, the irony!”
It was, indeed, quite a story.
“And what is the irony?” MA-28141 humored the man, watching his movements carefully.
“Why, he’s… oh, you old hermit, you never socialize, well, neither did he. Of course you wouldn’t know!” his cellmate laughed good-naturedly. “Johnny-boy was blind. So, you know, a blind man shot between the eyes… Ah, now you’ve gone and made me explain the joke and it lost all the charm! A killjoy, that's what you are. That’s why you’re here, I bet.”
MA-28141’s mind looped back to the first sentence. Something pinged at the back of his mind, and that was not a feeling he liked.
“Johngalli… Hey, pal, what did that guy look like again?”
“Johnny? Well…” the man stopped to really think about it. “Empty milky eyes, obviously… Long white hair, very pretty, grooming it must have been a nightmare. Let’s see… Oh, right, he had those weird-looking tattoos on his face. People these days, really. I’d think they wouldn’t allow such in the military. Ah, what else… Well, there’s also the beefiest cake I’ve ever seen! A waste, really, he ended up like that!” the clerk laughed again.
…it felt like Hol Horse was once again on the cusp of thirty, standing in the dark rooms of the Egyptian mansion, staying in the background as the immortal devil with hair of gold charmed his followers. Both women and men… Among them, a sniper of terrifying efficiency. In what world would that soldier be enamored, be at the beck and call of the one employer the wannabe cowboy regretted to have ever met in his life?
Johngalli A. was a good decade Hol’s junior, but no his lesser, the man's long white hair tied up in a ponytail as he stood at attention in his desert camouflage… Like a shadow of Hol Horse, he was a gunslinger, who used his Manhatten Transfer to redirect his shots, somewhat similar to how Emperor allowed to control the bullets’ trajectory. Looking at the man, so similar to him in his skills, yet so different in how he worshipped DIO, Hol Horse couldn’t help but grow nervous about outliving his own usefulness for the immortal.
“Yeah… yeah…” MA-28141 mumbled, not liking the implications. If it was the same Johngalli that he once knew, the whole story suddenly seemed even fishier than the name of this place. Men like Johngalli wouldn’t let go of their idol. But what were the odds of him actually being here, in the same place as him, and neither noticing each other? Then again, the man turned blind, it seemed, and it had been three long decades. “...say, who was that prisoner he tried to escape with?”
Maybe that was just a coincidence, or the man really abandoned his passion…
“Oh, that’s the easy one,” his cellmate laughed once again. “But, really, that would have cost ya if we weren’t such good buddies.” By which he meant that MA-28141 showed he had no issues offing him and hiding the body if he tried to pull any funny business. “That was the girl who had a visitor earlier today. Heard from the grapevine. One young miss, Jolyne Cujoh. Nineteen years old, of Asian descent, I believe, just joined our happy family a few days ago. …alright, that’s it, I’m shutting up, it’s time to eat! Mhm! Delicious salmon! The chaplain certainly knew what to recommend! You should visit the guy sometimes, at least once in your stay! Maybe you’ll even achieve some enlightenment and stop being a hermit.”
Prisoner MA-28141 pulled his pillow from beneath his head and put it onto his face, he was that close to screaming in frustration. He truly wanted to believe in coincidences, even as wild as that, but with how his luck had reached its low, that was most likely not just a coincidence. The echoes of Egypt continued to haunt him still. A man who seemed to be a follower of DIO? A girl with the surname belonging to the man’s nemesis? He was lucky if Johngalli was on his own, with no other fanatics lurking.
…just to be certain, he would have to actually get out of the bed and spend some more money.
***
“Hey, John! I thought you’d call next week. Oi, Oingo! John’s calling!”
The old prisoner’s heart was, once again, warmed by the excitement that the artist on the other side of the phone greeted him with.
“Yeah, glad to hear you too, kid,” MA-28141 chuckled, before growing serious, to an extent. “Something came up here. Listen, Boingo, can you check something for me? Jotaro Kujo. Does he have any kids? He’s got to be… around forty. I think he could have a kid.”
“...I do not like how this conversation is going, but very well,” the younger man muttered, still, the clicks on the other side indicating that Boingo did sit at his laptop, searching for answers. “And what prompted that?”
“A girl here in prison has his surname. Landed a few days ago, so there should be something in the news. …and there was apparently one of that golden devil’s last fanatics after her head,” the prisoner replied, a sharp intake on the other side of the line. Years passed, but the memories of the business in Egypt never really left any of them. Not when MA-28141 always carried three watches on him, and the two brothers turned their whole life around, with the elder still having the gruesome scar splitting his face in two, whenever he felt exhausted enough to not use his shapeshifting powers.
“That checks out. A hit and run. They say Jolyne Cujoh drowned a guy in the swamp when it turned out he wasn’t dead enough,” the artist said. The name checked out, unfortunately, and the man groaned. “I guess that’s her, right? And she likely didn’t drown that man?”
“Yeah…”
“Alright… Oingo! Get Tohth, please!” the younger man sighed, while addressing his brother, obviously standing nearby. “You’ll need all the luck in the world. And, really, I think Tohth is starting to like you. It hasn’t given any conditional prophecies in a while.”
Prisoner MA-28141 was pretty convinced by that point that the comic book stand that may or may not have been the actual Egyptian deity was sentient the way few stands were. In hindsight, it was pretty obvious that Tohth was very pissed at him in Egypt, since MA-28141 did kidnap its charge to assist him, putting his in the most ridiculous situations and, in the end, landing him in hospital. But when they met again and went to Japan, hunting for a parrot, the prophecy book seemed more willing to assist.
“Alright, let’s see,” Boingo said, before clearing his throat, ready to play up the narration. That one childish aspect of his never went away, and MA-28141 found he didn’t mind. “After calling his favorite brothers, Hol Horse went into the exercise yard of the Dolphin Prison. And when he went there, he saw a priest! ‘Oi! I should blow that priest’s brains out!’ Hol Horse exclaimed, but stopped himself. He saw a white snake on the wall and relented. Instead, he turned to find a boy hiding in a trash bin. ‘Hey, you and I both don’t like the white snake! How about we join forces to kill it?’ The boy would grow happy and give him all the answers, and Hol Horse would be happy as well!”
Prisoner MA-28141 blinked. As it often was, Tohth’s predictions seemed to be an illogical mess of unlikely events. Somehow, even more so when you didn’t see the psychedelic pages of the comic book. A priest? The prison chaplain, maybe? Followed by a white snake? And what was that about a boy hiding inside a trash bin? Did he mean one of the incarcerated delinquents?
“So…” Boingo continued. “The priest doesn’t look like much. White hair, dresses in black. That white snake is weird. Do you have albino snakes in Florida? ...who am I kidding, it's Florida. Look above after you see the priest, anyway. The snake will be on the ceiling and it's important! I guarantee the importance with 100% certainty!”
“Your predictions are always 100% correct, I know, kid,” MA-28141 chuckled. “What about the boy?”
“Yes, yes, you will kneel in front of the trash bin, and he’ll answer all you need to know about Jolyne,” the artist said, before cackling in that odd manner that made his brother look at him in concern at times. “He’s very young, like, ten maybe. Blond, wears all white. You can’t miss him!”
The man hummed. How could a literal kid be in the walls of this prison complex? Maybe, a kid of one of the officers of the place? Though it wasn’t exactly a place you brought your kids to. Well, he’d see.
“Alright, thanks, kid,” MA-28141 nodded to himself, before smiling. “I’ll be going then, the exercise yard awaits. Next week tell me all about that convention you’re going to.”
“Of course! I’ll make sure to extra annoy Rohan,” the young man cackled again, before the two said their goodbyes.
MA-28141 shook his head affectionately, as he started his way to the exercise yard. From what Boingo told him, that Japanese artist was basically his rival in all things artistic, after the man dissed his first comics, which were basically photocopies of Tohth’s predictions of their group's encounters with the Joestars, with a few extra pages here and there Boingo added for context. That Rohan guy turned out to be a stand user as well, and when Boingo learned that, he responded in kind, with a letter that would rub at Rohan’s creative bankruptcy if the man had to use a stand to gather material for his works.
It was always funny to hear Boingo’s exasperation with his rival, and, honestly, MA-28141 couldn’t wait to leave the prison and actually see the two interact with each other at one of the conventions or such. He would even make sure to buy himself and Oingo some popcorn-
…it felt like Hol Horse was again in that accursed Egyptian mansion. There were many terrifying people in the vampire’s employ. The soul-stealing gamblers, the D’Arbies, his maniacal fanatic, Vanilla Ice, the, frankly, disgusting being that was Hol Horse’s own partner, Mr. J. Geil, along with his hag of a mother. Even the man’s pet falcon, Pet Shop, was a horrifying force of nature that would eat dogs alive if they accidentally wandered onto the mansion grounds.
However, one of those people piqued Hol Horse’s interest and aroused his concern in a different manner than most. Frankly, he was the only man who would make him break in cold sweat, aside from DIO himself. The man he only saw once, but heard of DIO referring to him. The young dark-skinned man, a holy man, who would discuss philosophy with DIO, and who, most distressingly, the immortal seemed to consider a friend, if not something more. It was truly frightening if a person could connect to someone like DIO. Just who was that man?
Prisoner MA-28141 blinked, and he was back again. The man he only knew as Pucci passed by him without any recognition in his eyes. If there were any doubts until then, they were gone. DIO’s boyfriend was here, in the flesh, and that meant those were no coincidence. Johngalli A. was the man shot in the women section of the prison, Jolyne Cujoh was the daughter of Jotaro Kujo, and whatever was going on here, Pucci was behind it in the name of his long-dead idol. MA-28141’s hand trembled, as he hesitated to call upon his weapon to dispatch the man, but he remembered the prediction of his young friend. Now was not the time. In fact…
No one looked up at the ceilings, but MA-28141 did, and after the prison chaplain disappeared around the corner, he saw the sparsely clad white humanoid stand slither by the ceiling. It was focused on stealth, following its master while looking around sneakily, rendering itself invisible to those not possessing a stand ability, the busy corridor not paying the slightest attention to it. It seemed to be aware of its surroundings, so MA-28141 averted his eyes so as to not agitate it. The white snake from the prediction had to be the stand. Indeed, from a certain point of view, he could see it.
With that mystery resolved, MA-28141 looked around, his eyes finding an unassuming trash bin out of the way, where most people wouldn’t even notice it. The bins were quite large here, and they were covered with heavy lids. A child could, actually, fit inside one, and so MA-28141 approached it and knelt in front of it, his eyes meeting the scared golden gaze. Indeed, there was a kid. The prediction was 100% accurate, as always, naturally. So there he was again, working with a kid to bring an enemy down. If he was lucky, this time it wouldn’t end with him in the intensive care unit. The man saluted the scared kid in a joking manner.
“Hey there, kid,” he said, looking over his shoulder to check on the enemy stand that did crawl into the vent and disappeared. Odd how it didn’t follow its user’s movements. “I’ll take it you’re not a fan of that white snake. Me neither. I could help you against it, if you answer a few questions. No strings attached.”
A tense pause ensued. MA-28141 knew that Tohth’s prediction was correct, that the boy would accept, but that didn’t make him any less anxious. Especially when the boy suddenly disappeared, as if the space inside the trash can folded in on him. The man stood up and leaned against the wall. He assured himself that the prediction was correct.
In a moment, the boy turned up in a crack in the wall, beckoning MA-28141 to follow. Indeed, it was his lucky day. The older man reached for the crack, and suddenly found himself standing in an old music room, feeling a bit queasy, but alright. The room was empty, sans the two of them.
“You… know of Whitesnake,” the boy concluded, and MA-28141 nodded. The kid said it like that was the stand’s actual name, and maybe it was the case. Especially if it was sentient enough to carry out Pucci’s will without the man himself being revealed. The inmate looked around, before making himself comfortable on the seat in front of the grand piano. “...he tried to kill Jolyne today. Do you know Jolyne?”
“I know of her. I’m much more familiar with her old man,” the man shrugged, and the boy’s eyes widened. Apparently, that was important, and MA-28141 did not like that one bit.
“You know how his stand ability works?” the boy asked, receiving a shake of the head. “He… he can extract discs out of you, and those discs contain your memories and your stand. Without two of them, you will die, and he will use his acidic sub-ability to dispose of the body.”
That didn’t sound pleasant. A stand with the ability to steal others’ stands… not as incomprehensible as whatever DIO’s own ability was, but still devastating in hands of a smart man, and a smart man Pucci had to be, to catch DIO’s attention in such a way he did.
“Jolyne’s father visited, and Whitesnake stole his discs.”
That did not sound good in the slightest. Star Platinum would have to be an absolutely devastating stand, if it managed to defeat The World. And with it in Pucci’s possession…
“Jolyne had a chance to escape, but she stayed. Whitesnake didn’t leave the prison, and she plans to find his user and get the discs back. I… I’ll help her,” the boy seemed determined, no matter his apparent nervousness. It made MA-28141 nostalgic, as the kid reminded him of Boingo back when the two tried to off thу man that Pucci and his Whitesnake actually managed to do in. How the tables turned.
“I like you. And I think I’ll join in on the effort,” MA-28141 chuckled, wanting to flick his hat, but remembering that he was miserably hat-less while in prison. “So, what’s your name, kid?”
“Emporio,” the kid replied, fixing his hat. “And you?”
“Call me Hol Horse,” the man grinned, fixing the three watches on his wrist smugly, before calling his silver gun stand to show off. “The user of Emperor. And you two have hit the jackpot, you know. I just so happen to know who exactly the user of that Whitesnake is.”
***
[STAND NAME] Tohth
[STAND MASTER] Boingo H.
