STORY 1 - (Speedwagon and Rohan)

THE OTHER MORIOH - 2011

"First time in jail was at age fifteen, since then, has been brought in many times for armed robbery... Seriously wounded over sixty seven people in one hundred and eighty nine total muggings, none murdered, no women or children..." Rohan muttered to himself as he purused Speedwagon's pages for further information on their quest, or just inspiration, "For a self-proclaimed dastard, he's pretty honorable. And tough, for someone who's stand-less. It's a shame you only seem to act as a mere commentator from the sidelines, but when someone like you is up against that monster like Jotaro described, who can blame you? Just try not to get in my way."

Speedwagon awoke in a daze as Rohan closed his face, "Are you trying to tick me off? I would so appreciate ya for not tryin' to cock-up my memories. I DO know how your ripple ghost works, even if I can't quite see it."

"They're called stands." Rohan scoffed, "And I didn't mark or tear any of your pages. I've heard about you during some of Mr. Joestar's 'dementia' ramblings and what I've read when his damn yankee son and Jotaro aren't looking. I just wanted to learn what he didn't already know."

Speedwagon looked toward the mangaka with shock and sorrow, "Jonathan's grandson, Joseph? He develops dementia?"

"No, no. See, he had an affair in his late sixties with a Japanese woman, and from that, he had Josuke. I'm told his wife found out years later from updated will documents, and was furious beyond belief at the old man. Coincidentally, Joseph began to develop signs of dementia at that time. Last I read, he's all there mentally.

The top hatted Brit erupted in laughter. "Considering what I've heard from Jotaro, he's certainly quite the swindler. A bloody smart idea, really."

As the two reached their natural conclusion, they looked out into the landscape they were thrust in. Rohan recognized the everlasting sunset sky, the echoes of distant waves, and the nearby sleepy city on the horizon line. For something supposed to be familiar, it felt so strange and otherworldly. The houses and hills around them were warped and cracked, revealing slits in the dirt walls that rose from the Earth. It appeared to be the work of an earthquake, but to Rohan's memory, there had never been one severe enough to uproot the residential cape homes.

The two walked for a while, looking for clues to the whereabouts of a corpse part. As they weaved closer to downtown, following the road, they began to cross an abandoned parking lot in the middle of a grove of trees. To the west of them was a rather large hill, and a ski lift that went up and over the mound. Rohan, having lived in Morioh his entire life, had never seen this place. Disbelief covered his face as they paced along the alien land. He walked over to the ski lift and leaned against it to gather his bearings, with Speedwagon trailing closely behind.

"You're the courier of this quest, right? Where are we exactly? This can't be my home." Rohan demanded of his companion.

"Morioh, but not your time. 2011." Speedwagon nervously answered, "And it ain't your Morioh to begin with, mate. The only thing I can gather is that it's someone else's. Let's get going, this place is too qui- Mr. Kishibe! Above you! There's someone in that lift!"

Just then, as the mangaka's face shot up, ropes fell down from the top of the lift, and wrapped themselves around his waist and left arm, trying to pull him up. It could only be the work of a stand. With great speed, a G pen shot from Rohan's sleeve and into his right hand. As Speedwagon ran up to assist, Rohan decorated the air with his stand and shouted,

"HEAVEN'S DOOR!"

With Speedwagon's reaching palm just in range, it flipped open to a mostly blank page. Rohan hurriedly etched, 'I CAN SEE STANDS.'

The Brit was instantly taken aback, now being able to see Rohan's bindings. But even the commentator knew when it was time for action. He whipped the bowler hat from his side, and knocked the felt brim off to revel the buzzsaws underneath. "I've got you, Mr. Kishibe!" Speedwagon proclaimed, throwing his hat like a frisbee at the paper thin rope pulling and binding Rohan. With perfect precision, the hat struck all of its targets, and loosened it's grip. Rohan fell to the base of the tower and immediately turned to the thick metal rod. Opening it, he wrote, 'I AM VERY WEAK, AND COULD FALL AT ANY SECOND.'

"Speedwagon, hit the base!" Rohan barked.

"Aye!" The hat returned to Speedwagon. Catching it carefully, he flung it back at the lift with immense force. The hat dug into the metal, and began to knock it down like a tree falls from an axe. As it toppled over, a man with long, black braids fell from the top and slumped to the dirt below. Speedwagon ran to Rohan's side, ready to strike should the braided man even twitch. But the enemy didn't move. Rohan slowly approached him, motioning for Speedwagon to follow close behind.

Heaven's Door opened the back of the man, and Rohan orated his readings, "Alive. His name is Mamezuku Rai. Thirty one. Horticulturist, employed as a plant appraiser. Stand name is Doggy Style. I see a lot in here about something called a Rokakaka, but no corpse. He's in hiding, and we just spooked him. Not an enemy."

Rohan stood up, and stepped over Mamezuku, "Let's keep going."

"You're just gonna leave the poor bastard there?" Speedwagon asked.

"He's got nothing to do with our mission, and he's alive. We have to keep looking."

"I guess a point's a point." Speedwagon cooly moved around the knocked out body, "Apologies, mate."

As the two continued down the road to Morioh town for a while longer, Rohan picked up his pace and awkwardly broke the silence.

"Thanks for the help. I apologise for calling you a mere commentator."

"Cheers." Speedwagon smiled, appreciating the praise from the snooty stand user, "Wait, when did you call me that?!"

END OF STORY 1

-- TO BE CONTINUED --