Dio entered the van and took a seat. Rikiel scooted away from him, inadvertently squishing Ungalo against the door. "I don't want to sit by him," Rikiel said, glancing up at Mista for support. Mista only shrugged in response.
Rikiel grabbed Ungalo by the shoulders and tried to shove him over, but he only frowned at him in response. "I don't want the middle seat. Middle seat sucks."
"I'll give you twenty dollars to take the middle seat," Rikiel said desperately.
Ungalo grinned. "Twenty-five."
"I literally only have twenty dollar bills," Rikiel cried. "I just took them from the ATM."
"Forty, then." Ungalo crossed his arms.
"Fine. Forty. I don't care. Whatever." Rikiel pulled out his wallet and started searching through it.
Mista quirked an eyebrow and looked back at Dio. Dio sighed. "Ungalo." His voice was stern and Ungalo pouted at him. "I don't care that you're extorting your brother, but you should know that you are not making a good first impression."
Ungalo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Fine. I'll take the middle seat and you don't have to pay me."
"Where the hell is my money?" Rikiel shook his empty wallet. "It's all gone."
"I have it," Giorno answered as he slid into the passenger seat. "I took it for safekeeping during the Stand attack. I didn't want it to get lost if more cars did crash." He held out a wad of cash and a small stack of cards with his unbandaged hand.
Rikiel frowned at him as he snatched them back. "Why didn't you just take the whole wallet instead of pulling everything out?"
Giorno pursed his lips. "Habit, I suppose."
As Rikiel and Ungalo undertook a complicated clamber in order to switch seats, Mista poked at the GPS. "So, Rikiel. Why were you here instead of at… 203 East 9th Street in Lynn Haven?"
Rikiel frowned. "That's an old address. We moved the house over to Pine Grove like two years ago." His expression grew thoughtful. "We never really signed anything about it though, so…"
"Well, gee, why don't you give us the updated address," Mista said. "Let's see how far off we would have been."
"Um." Rikiel hazarded a wary glance up at Dio. "Lot 224, Pine Grove. It's north of Ocala."
Mista took a deep breath and whistled as he looked at the GPS. "Damn, we would have overshot so hard. Hey, Giorno, did you know Florida has a Naples?"
"Wait, what do you mean you moved the house?" Ungalo asked.
Rikiel frowned tersely and he stared down at the floor. "It's a mobile home."
Ungalo grinned and looked like he was about to crack a joke, but when he happened to glance up at Giorno his expression grew softer. He elbowed Rikiel lightly. "That's gotta be fun, getting to just park your whole-ass house wherever you want."
"It's my mom's house," Rikiel replied. "I don't get to choose where it goes, unfortunately."
"Y'know, I always wondered how the bathrooms work in those things," Ungalo said. "Do you have to, like, attach a tube and everyone hooks up to the same sewer or do you gotta get the house tank emptied once a month?"
Rikiel frowned thoughtfully. "It depends on when you park. You can buy a septic system or—"
"We are way off track here," Mista interrupted. "Even though I kinda want to know how it works, too. What were you doing in Orlando?"
"Well, I have a grandma in Poinciana," he answered. "That's just south of Orlando. She's been paying for me to visit this specialist at the medical center for my…" He trailed off, made an anguished noise, and held his head in his hands. "Oh, God. I've wasted so much money. I could have just controlled it this whole time."
"You're not the first person to be made ill by their own Stand," Dio stated. "Don't pity yourself too much. Be grateful that you survived."
Rikiel did not look comforted. Giorno surprised Dio by nodding in agreement. "Stand sickness is no joke. I'm sure that you regret wasting time and effort on something that had a solution you couldn't have found naturally. But now you know, and you have us to help you with it."
Rikiel glanced around. Giorno looked genuine, of course, but Dio looked vaguely bored. Ungalo flashed him as winsome a smile as he could manage. Mista was entirely focused on the GPS. "Right," Rikiel replied flatly.
The lid to the turtle opened. Hol landed heavily on Dio's leg and Ungalo yelped as his boots hit into his knees. Hol reflexively stretched out his legs and accidentally kicked Rikiel in the ribs.
"Okay. I take it that I missed a lot." The Emperor twirled in his hand and then disappeared. He nodded at Ungalo. "Hey, kid. Feeling better?"
Ungalo nodded. "Yeah, that was a Stand attack, not their driving. Or a burrito poisoning."
Hol nodded in return, then noticed Rikiel and pointed excitedly. "Another one! Which one are you?"
He mumbled an answer. "I'm Rikiel."
"Good t'meet ya," Hol replied as he tugged at the brim of his hat.
"Hol," Dio said flatly.
He tilted his head back to look at him. "Yup?"
"Get back in the turtle."
Hol nodded. "Yessir." He picked it up and thumped his palm against the keypad. "Polnareff, it's me. Just open it."
There was a mechanical whirr, the door opened, and Hol disappeared.
Donatello's address was on the southern outskirts of Miami. Since they didn't have to drive all the way to Tallahassee anymore, it would be a much easier trip.
However, the passengers in the van that needed a regular three meals a day outnumbered those who didn't. They decided to take a break for a late-lunch-early-dinner sort of meal just north of the city. Mista pulled the van into a long strip of stores and looked over the options. "We haven't tried any of these chains yet," he said to Giorno. "How bad do you think the pizza is here?"
"I'm sure it's abhorrent. Oh, that place looks locally owned, actually," Giorno replied, and he pointed out a place styled after a 1950s diner. "Do Sex Pistols have any requests?"
He shook his head and sighed. "They just keep asking me for sugar. I don't think this country is good for them."
Giorno looked thoughtful, but then he frowned and glanced back at Rikiel. "I'm not sure calling those things into the van is a good idea."
Rikiel lowered his hand guiltily and his Stand faded away. "They were following us, anyway. I kind of just wanted to see if I could grab one to see what it looks like."
Giorno nodded slowly. "That would be interesting, but I would prefer for you to do it when we are not driving. Let's just eat at this one," he said to Mista, and he pointed at the diner again. "It looks quaint."
Mista squinted at the historical memorabilia plastered over the windows. "Are you sure quaint is the right word? Not tacky?"
"I think the two may be interchangeable here," Giorno replied. "Anyway, they probably have milkshakes. That should make Sex Pistols happy."
The sign at the front instructed them to seat themselves, so the group settled into chairs around a large table. The silverware was shoved into ceramic mugs astride paper napkin dispensers that propped up two menus. Giorno shared a menu with Mista and they looked over the options, occasionally asking the rest of the table for clarification. Hol was full of opinions about burgers and knew exactly what he wanted, so he answered most of their questions and passed his menu to Ungalo who shared it with Rikiel. The waitress ambled over to them just as they decided on their orders. Dio settled for a glass of water with lemon.
Giorno pressed the last of his fries into a puddle of ketchup. There was a small pile of lettuce to the side that he had saved for the turtle. "That was a much better burger than the last, in my honest opinion."
Ungalo nodded. "I mean, half the fun of a burger is putting a bunch of stupid toppings on. This place let me put peanut butter on it like Elvis."
Hol frowned at him. "Yeah, that's tons of fun if you don't care at all about the sanctity of the flavor profile."
"You put steak sauce on yours," Ungalo retorted. "A burger is not a steak."
Sex Pistols were diving into a milkshake as if it were a swimming pool. Mista kept an eye on them to make sure none of them tried to bully each other too much. Rikiel stared at their antics in confused awe.
The waitress returned. "Y'all done?"
"Yes," Giorno answered. "Oh, but could I get a box?" He pointed at the pile of lettuce.
She gave him an odd look but nodded and left to grab their check.
Hol leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head. "They sure got a lot of movie posters in here. Singin' in the Rain, The Day the Earth Stood Still… ooh, damn! The Good, the Bad and the Ugly! That's a classic."
Mista looked up and grinned widely. "Sergio Leone! Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo! I love that movie. Clint Eastwood's my favorite."
"Hell yeah!" Hol leaned forward and held out his fist. Mista returned the gesture and gave him an enthusiastic fistbump.
Ungalo looked up at the movie poster and grinned. "Hey, hey. Check this out." He squinted, furrowed his eyebrows, and held his breath until his face went a bit red.
For a few moments, absolutely nothing happened. Rikiel poked his shoulder. "What the hell are you doing?"
Dio pointed helpfully at the movie poster. The group turned to look at it. The three characters crawled out of the frame and stood on the tile floor of the diner.
Hol stood and nearly kicked over his chair. "Holy shit!"
"Ta-da, that's my Stand," Ungalo exclaimed.
"You can make characters real?" Mista asked. He stood and approached Clint Eastwood's character, who squinted at him as he lit up a cigar. "Do they act like them, too?"
"I haven't seen the movie," Ungalo admitted, "but yeah, they generally do."
"I haven't seen that movie either," Rikiel mumbled.
Hol clapped a hand onto his shoulder and pointed out the characters. "The Clint Eastwood one in the front is Blondie. He's sort of the good guy and still kind of an asshole, but he does the right thing when it matters. The one beside him is Angel Eyes, a ruthless expert assassin that can track down any target. And behind him is Tuco. He's a funny guy but he's smart, too. If you underestimate him just because you think he's stupid, you'll regret it."
"Well put," Blondie replied before taking a puff of his cigar.
Hol strode up to Angel Eyes and inspected his outfit. "This is real neat! Every little detail of the costume is there." Angel Eyes watched him warily, his hand hovering over his holster. Hol laughed. "Guns and all."
Giorno raised his eyebrows. "Real guns?"
Ungalo frowned. "Um. Maybe? I don't know. Gonna be real with you, I usually just use this on pictures of hot girls."
Blondie tilted his chin up and peered at the other two characters. "Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. You know, I lied about the name on the grave. You'll never find the gold without the real name." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone. "I wrote the real name on the bottom of this stone. Let's have a three-way duel. Whoever wins gets the gold."
Hol lifted his hands to his mouth in joyful surprise. "Oh my God, they're gonna do the duel."
Mista was just as enthused, but then he looked around the diner. "Wait. Maybe they shouldn't do that in here. What if we move them into the parking lot?"
"Yes!" Hol grabbed onto Angel Eyes and began dragging him along. Tuco and Blondie frowned but followed him.
The waitress tossed the check onto their table. Giorno read it over and then glanced over at Rikiel. "I'm very sorry, but I'm low on cash and this place doesn't seem to take a card. I will pay you back as soon as possible."
Rikiel sighed but handed over his wallet. "Yeah, fine. It's no big deal. This was emergency money anyway and I think all of this counts as an emergency."
"Thank you." He folded the bills and set them in the center of the table. It took a little while for the waitress to come back with their change. Giorno sorted through the returned bills. "What's the tipping percentage? Twenty?"
Ungalo nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. She was an okay waitress."
Giorno pushed some bills towards the center of the table before handing the rest to Rikiel. "Well, let's go see this duel."
Hol, Mista, and the three characters strode out into the parking lot. Dio stood under the awning and crossed his arms. Ungalo, Rikiel, and Giorno stood together a short distance away and watched.
"This is such a good scene," Hol cheered. Mista nodded in agreement and watched happily as the characters confidently walked to their places.
Every character, that was, except for Tuco. "Hey, you're like me, right?" He tugged at Mista's shoulder.
Mista frowned and looked back at him. "Huh? I mean, you're a good character, but Clint Eastwood's my favorite."
"Sure," Tuco answered, "but you're like me, aren't you?"
Mista tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tuco shrugged and walked off.
"Ungalo," Giorno asked quietly, "what's going on?"
"I don't know," he replied. "I've never seen this happen."
"Hm." Giorno tugged at the neck of his poncho. "Something about this doesn't seem right."
Rikiel gawked at him. "When the hell did you start wearing that?"
"What?" He looked down in confusion and pressed his hands against the patterned fabric. "Huh?"
The three characters backed away as they faced each other until they formed a wide triangle. Mista and Hol, trying to keep a good view of the scene, took spaces equidistant between them. When considered with Giorno, they formed two overlapping but mirrored triangles.
Rikiel pointed at the characters. "There's a good one, a dumb-but-smart one, and a killer one, right?" He glanced back at Giorno. "You're dressed like the good one now. Blondie."
"Mista looks different, too," Giorno replied. "He has Tuco's jacket on."
"That makes Hol Angel Eyes." Rikiel looked over at Ungalo. "What does this mean?"
He lifted a hand to his forehead. "Um. I don't know."
The three characters stared each other down. Mista and Hol watched excitedly from the sidelines, but the Emperor was manifested in Hol's hand and Mista looked like he didn't even realize he was holding his revolver.
"I think I remember how this scene goes," Giorno said. "I took the bullets out of Tuco's gun the night before. I shoot Angel Eyes. Tuco and I share the treasure."
"You shoot Angel Eyes?" Rikiel asked in disbelief. "Do you mean Hol or the actual Angel Eyes?"
He blinked in confusion. "Yeah, Hol. Right. No. I meant..."
The three characters held their hands over their guns, their fingers twitching.
"Anyway, you didn't take the bullets away from Mista, right?" Rikiel asked. "And Hol's gun is a Stand, so it isn't like it would run out." He squinted. "What happens if they shoot?"
Giorno held up his gun. "I will probably shoot, as well."
Rikiel clapped his hands over his mouth to muffle his scream of surprise. "Where did you get a gun?"
"In this world, there are two types of people. Those with loaded guns, and those who dig," Giorno said, his voice low and serious. He paused and his tone grew lighter. "I always thought that was an interesting line."
"Ungalo!" Rikiel cried out. "Turn off your Stand!"
Ungalo was pale and sweaty. He hunched over and crossed his arms tightly. "I don't… it doesn't want to listen to me, or something." He grimaced. "I never use it for too long because sometimes it gets kind of weird like this."
Rikiel gave Dio a desperate look. "Help!"
Dio looked at him blankly. "This doesn't seem all that dangerous. I want to see if he can figure out how to control his Stand."
Rikiel scowled fearfully. "Giorno's gonna shoot Hol! Hell, they might all just shoot each other!"
Dio shrugged.
There was a loud crash from within the diner. Dio, Ungalo, and Rikiel turned to look inside.
Every bit of pop culture memorabilia within the diner had been activated by Bohemian Rhapsody's inexorable spread. A varied coterie of characters came spilling out the front door. A few accosted Rikiel while others went stumbling out into the parking lot.
One tapped Dio on the shoulder and spoke with a thick European accent. "Have you seen Jonathan?"
He twisted away from the touch and glared. A black-and-white Bela Lugosi dressed up as Dracula peered at him inquisitively. "Jonathan Harker. He is late arriving to my castle. I must find him."
"Ungalo, turn off your Stand," Dio yelled as Bela Lugosi latched onto his arm.
"I can't," Ungalo gasped, and he fell to a crouch.
Giorno's posture shifted ever so slightly as he prepared to fire.
Rikiel shook off a rather touchy Lucille Ball and tried to get to Ungalo. What the hell was it that Giorno had told him? See five things, smell four? Taste three? He could feel his own breath growing unsteady, his chest heaving as he struggled for air. He stumbled forward blindly as his eyes closed.
Wait. If his eyes were closed, then the creatures were there. If they were there, he could use them. He pointed at Ungalo and the wind rushed past him.
Giorno blinked at his raised but empty hand. Hol noticed that he had summoned the Emperor and frowned in confusion. Sex Pistols wept incoherently and tugged at Mista's sleeve in an attempt to get him to lower his gun.
Ungalo fell face-first onto the ground. Dio grabbed Rikiel by the collar and lifted until his feet barely brushed against the pavement. "What did you do to him?"
"I didn't kill him," he answered quickly. "I knocked him out. I had them just barely affect the vasovagal nerve. I used to get vasovagal syncopes all the time and I remembered the doc explaining it so I just followed what he said. See?" He pointed at Ungalo. "He's already getting back up."
Ungalo groaned and rolled onto his side. "Ow. Fuck. My forehead." His lagging memory returned to him and he scrambled to his feet. "Did it stop? Did anybody get shot?"
Dio gently set Rikiel back down. "Quick thinking. Well done."
Rikiel frowned at him. "You… you wouldn't have to tell me well done if you had just helped in the first place." He waved an arm towards Giorno, Mista, and Hol. "What if they were shot?"
"I would have stopped time," Dio replied flatly. "No one would have been shot."
Rikiel clapped his hands against his face and scowled. "But what if they were?"
"You're an anxious one, aren't you?" Dio crossed his arms. "I wanted Ungalo to learn from this."
"There's gotta be better ways of doing that," Rikiel retorted. "I want to get better at using my Stand, too. I want to evolve with it. I get that you might want that for all of us but you sure looked like you didn't even care!"
"It's not that I don't care," Dio replied flatly, "it's that I'm confident that I would be able to prevent any harm."
"Yeah, you looked real confident when that Dracula guy grabbed you," Rikiel muttered.
Dio narrowed his eyes and curled his lip in anger but he was interrupted by Hol, who came bounding up towards them and threw an arm around Rikiel. "Phew. Thanks, kid. And uh, don't be too mad at your dad. We're best buds," he said, and he looked up at Dio with an expression that clearly said we are not, but I am lying to help you out and keep this from becoming A Problem, so back me up, goddamnit. "He wouldn't've let me get shot. Hell, he saved Mista from getting shot earlier today, right? And the way the original scene goes, there's no way for Giorno to get shot. So we were safe." He glanced back at the diner and frowned. "Well, maybe not too safe when all the other ones showed up. But it doesn't seem like Ungalo even knew that could happen."
"Nope!" Ungalo exclaimed. "I guess that's what happens if I leave it on for too long. Sorry. Thanks for knocking me out, Rick."
"Oh my God, don't call me Rick," Rikiel said with a weak laugh.
Ungalo wiped his nose on his sleeve. "What about Ricky?"
Rikiel pointed at him. "You want knocked out again?"
Ungalo laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Okay, okay."
Rikiel snorted, but when he glanced back at Dio his expression grew more serious. Dio only peered back at him impassively.
Giorno and Mista were talking quietly, but they stopped when Giorno's phone buzzed. He pulled it out and looked closely at the screen. When his eyes went wide, Mista went around and peered over his shoulder to read it.
"Ungalo," Giorno asked, "do you have any idea what the range of your Stand is?"
Ungalo frowned at him. "Huh?"
Mista looked up in thought. "How far away is the Smithsonian? Pretty far, right?"
"Breaking news, every painting in the Smithsonian art museum empty of human or animal characters for up to fifteen seconds, photographs and video of the strange event in this exclusive report..." Giorno trailed off as he read the article.
"What? What?" Ungalo looked at him in shock.
Giorno tapped at the phone a few more times. "Reports in from the Louvre, same event happened for a mere five seconds, no photos but the security cameras captured..."
Mista stared at him. "All the way to the Louvre?"
"It must get larger the longer you have it active," Giorno said. "We spent quite a while waiting for the waitress to bring us our change..."
"Wait, where's the Louvre?" Ungalo ran over to Giorno's side. "How far is that?"
Giorno pursed his lips. "Paris."
Ungalo grabbed his arm for support. "What! How the hell could my Stand reach that far?"
"What's the longest you've left it on before?" Mista asked.
Ungalo's face screwed up with embarrassment. "Uh. I don't know. I try not to go over like, two minutes. Like I said, it gets weird." He scrunched his eyes shut. "I'm never gonna use it again. This is too heavy."
"No, no," Giorno insisted. "You just have to be careful now that you know you can do this."
Rikiel approached them and put a steady hand on Ungalo's shoulder. "If I can get mine under control, you can do the same with yours, right?"
"Yeah..." He trailed off, but then his expression brightened. "Yeah! You're totally right!"
Rikiel grinned. Giorno finished scrolling through the news and placed the phone back in his pocket with a faint smile. Mista clapped him on the back. "Hey, no fair that you got to be Clint Eastwood, Blondie. I call dibs next time."
Giorno quirked an eyebrow. "Next time?"
Mista only laughed in response.
(dio watching wholesome sibling bonding moments: hm. i don't know what this is and i don't trust it
As always, thanks for reading! Y'all are the best! Also I guess I could have named this chapter The Ecstacy of Gold Requiem)
