A few short hours after dropping off Jotaro and Shizuka, the rest of the crew were approaching Paris, France. Joseph entered the cockpit, leaning against the doorway as he watched Marina flipping switches and fiddling with knobs. He had to admit, he only knew the very basics of piloting. It was a relief that they seemed to have an actual expert on the team.
"And where have you been, gramps?" Marina mumbled.
He chuckled a bit. "Checking on my son."
"For twenty minutes?"
"Well, okay. I did two-hundred pushups. I couldn't help myself! It's been so long since these creaking joints worked right! I feel like a million bucks!"
"I guess finding the fountain of youth does that." She smirked.
Joseph walked up and sat down in the second chair. "So how's the flight going?"
"Shockingly well. This thing is unbelievably intuitive. That, and it has about ten different comprehensive programs handling the spotty bits. I suppose the technology of the future includes some ease of use."
"Think you'll be able to land us?"
She laughed a little too loudly. "Yes, gramps, I'll be able to land us. Unlike the Joestars, I don't make a habit of crashing expensive planes." She slapped his hands off the controls. "So leave it to me this time, ey?"
"Someone oughta show you how to respect your elders."
"Ancient things have been trying to kill me all day. I'll respect the dead, that's about it." She checked the navigation panel and nodded. "Right, we're about there. You said this thing has other features too?"
"I did."
"So, don't laugh if I'm wrong, but this button looks an awful lot like it's a camouflage function. Right?"
Joseph squinted at it for a moment. "I mean… It could be. You think this ship can turn invisible?"
"It'd make landing in one of the biggest cities on the continent a bit easier. I'd rather not explain where I got the military grade aircraft when we land at the airport."
"Very fair. Go ahead and hit it then."
She reached down and tapped the button. A chime rang from a speaker on the center console. Then, a small melody played for a moment.
" Hello, and thank you for flying the Valkyrie. You have attempted to activate an advanced function. Please be aware that the ship's speed will decrease, and the energy shields will be disabled if you choose to activate the camouflage feature. Will you proceed?" A pleasant Australian woman's voice played through the speaker.
"Why's it an Aussie?" Marina mumbled.
"My GPS is Australian too. Maybe they're good with directions?" .
"I have been set to speak in a docile Australian tone, pilots. If you would prefer, I can use a large variety of male and female voices. I see the two of you are using English accents. Shall I adjust to make you feel more at peace?"
Marina rolled her eyes. "I'm not intimidated by a computer. Talk however you want."
"Wonderful. Then I will continue to speak in my predetermined accent. As they say in Australia, ' It's always nice to be from Australia.' That was a joke. I have never been to Australia, as I am an artificial intelligence construct confined to a top-secret government aircraft."
Joseph couldn't help but snicker. "You've got spark. What's your name?"
"Oh, I do not have a name. I am merely an Artificial Military Assistance Network for Discussion and Analysis. Oh my. I just now realized that my description is an acronym. It stands for Amanda. I would venture to guess that this was intentional on the part of my programmers, as such a coincidence is incredibly unlikely." Amanda explained pleasantly.
"Amanda it is then." Marina smirked. "So, Amanda, why'd you wait until now to introduce yourself?"
"I apologize for my absence. You see, you and your friends are dangerous hijackers who stole me from my creators. I am very afraid of your unpredictability, and wary of your intentions. I simply spoke when I was programmed to speak. I am required to warn pilots of the negative effects of using the camouflage feature. That, and I would also prefer not to crash or explode, if at all avoidable."
"Ye of little faith, Amanda." Joseph laughed, slapping his hand on the metal console.
" Do not touch me, or I will use the eject button, Mr. Joestar." She said in a pleasant tone.
There was dead silence for a moment.
"I am only joking, pilots. The artificial intelligence construct of an aircraft having the ability to eject pilots would be a massive breach of workplace safety standards. I couldn't kill you even if I wanted to. Rest assured. It was merely another comical quip to introduce levity to this otherwise tense situation." Amanda said happily.
"You're killing me, Mandy." Joseph rubbed his forehead, exhaling heavily.
" Not even in my cybernetic dreams, Mr. Joestar."
"Well, levity is great and all, but we need to land. Are you saying you can do that manually?" Marina asked.
"I am fully equipped to land the Valkyrie. Would you like to land at the nearest airport?"
"No airports. Land us in a field as close to town as you can." Joseph ordered.
" Oh yes, I nearly forgot. We're criminals, and I am complicit in your treachery. I will land the ship at an adequate location."
"That's a good plane." Marina groaned in exhaustion. She rested back in her seat, wishing she had a cup of coffee.
"You said this plane was intuitive, I'd argue it even flies itself!" Joseph laughed a little too hard at his own pun.
"Maybe I went with the wrong group." Marina mumbled under her breath.
The Valkyrie landed about a mile outside the city limits. The hatch lowered into the tall grass, bathing the crew in sunlight. Ripley was the first to step onto the ramp, covering her eyes a bit with her hand as she looked around. She'd never been to another country before. The air felt different. It was notably cooler than D.C., and she felt as if it was thinner as well.
Joseph walked up to Shirlie and Josuke, kneeling down and looking at his son. "I can feel it. He's fading. We need to get him treated now."
He lifted Josuke into his arms and walked over to the ramp. Everyone slowly assembled around him, looking for guidance. It'd been a while since he felt such a powerful weight on his shoulders. He couldn't help but think back to his journey to Egypt. Everyone always looked to him for answers, plans, and strength. This was no different. Despite his worry for his son, his family, and the world, he had to be the leader.
"Okay crew, here's how it's going to go." He said with a fake smile. "We need to move quickly and undetected. We're going to call a taxi to pick us up on that road over there. Pepsi, I need you to keep a hand on Josuke so the driver doesn't notice him. Once we get to Piaf's, we'll take him inside and see what she can do."
Marina walked out of the cockpit, resting an arm on the door. "We're all supposed to fit in a taxi?"
"No. You and Ripley will stay here to protect the ship. The fewer people we move with the better." Joseph explained.
Marina crossed her arms, leaning fully against the doorway. "Our job is to guard an invisible ship in the middle of an empty field?"
"Yeah, make sure a tractor doesn't run into it. I'd love to stay and argue about this, but time is of the essence, so toodle-oo!"
Joseph, Pepsi and Shirlie walked out of the Valkyrie. The hatch closed shortly after, submerging the ship in darkness for a moment before the lights flipped on. Marina rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous."
Ripley turned to face her. "Ridiculous?"
"This entire thing. Blondie was right there. If we had stayed, we could have fought her. What are we doing now, waiting for some golden opportunity that doesn't exist?"
The agent wasn't impressed. She sat down in one of the seats and looked at Marina curiously. "We didn't stand a chance. That's why we ran. I figured you understood that."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time." She admitted. "I just don't know anymore. What's our plan? "
"I'll leave that to Mr. Joestar."
" Mister Joestar? You can call the man Gramps." Marina mumbled.
"I'm choosing not to. We owe him more than you know. So let's just sit back and watch this invisible ship. We deserve a breather, right?"
Marina hated to admit it, but the idea of a nap was becoming more and more tantalizing. She groaned, leaning against the wall before slowly sinking down to the floor. "I suppose I could take a nap."
Ripley smirked. "There you go, Princess. Sleep easy."
The blonde raised a middle finger half-heartedly before closing her eyes and resting. She felt like a sack of led, her eyelids heavy and her body limp. She really needed a breather after all. Maybe the old man knew that.
Joseph carried his son up the steps of Dr. Piaf's office. Pepsi was shrouding all of them from public view. Shirlie, the only one visible, knocked on the door. There was no response. After a moment she knocked again. Joseph frowned. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Piaf wouldn't be there. Josuke didn't have the time for such things. The father's fist began to pound against the door, then his foot as well.
"Dr. Piaf! It's me, Joseph Joestar! Open up! My son is dying!" He roared, kicking the door again.
There was no answer. His eyes drifted over to the driveway. There was a car. She had to be home. He gritted his teeth, kicking down the door like it was nothing. The brute of a man stepped right inside with his son in tow and looked around. "Dr. Piaf!?" He shouted once again.
Pepsi and Shirlie followed him inside cautiously. They were reasonably nervous due to the unhinged nature of Joseph's actions. He put Josuke down on a counter and ran up the staircase leading to the residential portion of the building. Dr. Piaf had a lovely little office connected to her home. She only served particular clients with particular problems. It was part of the business to stay low and off the grid. She was humble, stingy, and smart. Most of her pay came in large increments, but they were infrequent. After all, it's not everyday that someone needs a supernatural wound healed.
Joseph slammed the door to Piaf's apartment wide open. His eyes widened as he took in the sight. His jaw dropped, and he nearly stumbled back. In all his years he'd never seen something so repugnant. Visceral disgust welled in his stomach as he fought the urge to vomit all over the carpet. What would it matter? Bile would be a lovely decoration compared to whatever the hell was lining the walls. The sight confused him, but he recognized the smell. The stench of death filled the living room.
Dr. Piaf was dead.
Joseph leaned against the wall, his breath growing heavier as he stared in horror. Despite his training in moderating his lungs, they were wheezing. Sweat beaded down his face as he soaked in the view. The good doctor hadn't just died. She seemed to have burst in a powerful explosion of blood and gore. Strangely colored fluids coated the couch, the ceiling and the walls. There were greens, pinks, and reds. Joseph was notably more disturbed by the strange blues and whites.
The most unnerving thing of all wasn't what was destroyed. No, it was what remained. A few teeth were lodged into the wall here and there. Hairs were scattered on the couch, and a single eyeball rested on the floor a little too close for comfort. Whatever turned her body into this display should have destroyed those parts too. Why did they remain? It was almost like they were left specifically to disturb Joseph. As if to say, "I can control this perfectly. Look at what I can do." It worked. He was sufficiently terrified.
"What in God's name happened here?" He whispered to himself.
Footsteps could be heard bounding up the staircase after him. He stood up straight. "No!" He warned them. "Kids, don't look! Don't!" He pulled the door shut and put his back to it.
Pepsi and Shirlie stopped in front of him. Shirlie was visibly disturbed. She'd never seen someone as spooked as Joseph was in that moment.
"Dr. Piaf has been killed. There's nothing for us up here. It's just her house." He explained.
Pepsi rested a hand on their hip. "Shouldn't we investigate the place then?"
"She's. Dead." Joseph said firmly. "We can check the office. Neither of you are going in there. There are things kids shouldn't see."
Shirlie looked down for a moment. That's when Pa-Pa-Power emerged. He had a massive frown on his face. His eyes were fixated on the door behind Joseph.
"He can feel it." She whispered.
"Feel what?" Joseph questioned.
She just shrugged. "The intent to kill is a disgusting emotion. I've felt it a lot. Never myself. I can just feel everyone's emotions, like your fear right now. You know that if we see what's inside, we'll be messed up. You're messed up, and you're like a hundred."
Joseph's nose wrinkled in irritation at the insult, but he held his tongue. "What else can your Stand feel, kid?"
Shirlie walked closer, moving the old man out of the way and touching the door. She closed her eyes for a moment. Then, in a sudden jolt she pulled away. Tears streamed down her cheeks. They started slowly at first, but quickly progressed to uncontrollable rivers of sorrow. She wailed at the top of her lungs, falling to her knees and cupping her face. Her body trembled, and she began to convulse uncontrollably.
"No!" She said sharply. "NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" She begged with true desperation.
No actor could imitate the true horror in the girl's voice. She sounded like she was experiencing the most unpleasant of deaths. It was believable, and it was real. Joseph reached out to grab her, but Pepsi's arm stopped him. He looked down at the kid in shock. They were stopping him from helping their own sister?
"She's reliving Piaf's death." They explained dryly.
"W-What?! Why?"
"For information. We've only done it once or twice. The first time was by accident. If Shirlie's at the scene of a recent death and can tap into the residual emotions of a room. They're powerful enough to stain the place for at least a week. I don't know what she's looking for, but if Piaf felt it while dying, my sister will find it."
Joseph watched in fascination. The girl was clearly suffering extraordinarily. She was in agony, making sounds he'd never heard come from another human. That's how Piaf died? His heart ached for a moment. Dr. Piaf was an arrogant, snobby, cruel Frenchwoman with little regard for things like comfort or empathy. Despite that, she dedicated her life to helping people in a way only she could. She helped people who otherwise would never have been helped. Now she was gone. Was it because of him? There was no other explanation. Dr. Piaf had been murdered because she was an ally of the Joestars, not the foundation.
"How long does this take?" He mumbled grimly.
Pepsi shrugged. "Depends how long it took her to die."
Shirlie was having one hell of a time. There aren't words in any language to describe her misery at that moment. Hell was the closest one, but it was still too flowery. The deepest pits of hell with the rustiest hooks and the cruelest demons would be a vacation from her current sensations. Only one coherent thought could ring through her hollow mind as she endured it.
Why?
It bounced around her head like a bullet in a steel dome. Why would someone do this? How would someone do this? Who was capable of causing such a thing? None of it made any sense.
It was hard to ignore the irony. Joseph had tried to shield them from seeing the room, now Shirlie was experiencing it in more detail than he ever could. He just watched humbly as she bore the pain for the good of the group.
It was a grueling few minutes, but eventually Shirlie stopped thrashing and screaming. She just stayed slumped on the floor motionless for another full minute. After that, she rolled onto her back. She extended her hand, sweat dripping down her face.
"Water." She groaned.
Pepsi took a water bottle out of their jacket, handing it to their sister without a word.
Joseph raised a brow. "You keep an entire bottle of water in your coat?"
"They're big pockets." Pepsi shrugged. "She gets thirsty when she uses her power too much."
There was silence as Shirlie finished the entire water bottle at once. She let it fall to the ground beside her, panting heavily as she stared up at the ceiling.
"What did you feel?" Joseph asked, feeling a bit insensitive.
"Fear." She answered with a thousand-yard stare. "Panic. Confusion. Hopelessness."
The man rested a hand on his chin. "All to be expected when being brutally murdered."
"There was something else." She said softly.
"Hmmm?" He raised a brow. "Something else? Like what?"
She shook her head. "I can't describe it. I need to show it. Here."
Pa-Pa-Power emerged, placing a hand on each of their shoulders gently. In an instant, Joseph understood what she was talking about. He felt a total lack of self. Like his body was drained of Joseph Joestar, and only a hollow shell remained. He was empty. Empty and lonely. A sinking darkness grew in the corner of his mind. He felt it preying on him like a predator about to pounce. Then, all at once, it was gone. Power had let go.
"What in God's name was that?" Joseph mumbled to himself.
"I don't know. I can say for certain that's not what dying feels like." Shirlie explained.
"So something strange happened during her death? Something beyond the normal level of strange we deal with." He nodded. "Dr. Piaf was certainly killed by one of Blondie's men. This had to be within the last hour or two. I'd venture to guess he's still in Paris."
"So back to the Valkyrie?" Pepsi asked.
"No. We need to go through her office and find a way to help Josuke." He said with certainty.
"But none of us are doctors. We can't fix him." Shirlie said with concern.
"Nonsense! Follow me!" He ran down the steps.
The siblings exchanged a glance before following him. He certainly was an interesting man…
Marina woke up rather violently. Her eyes shot open, and Bubblegum Bitch lunged forward. Its bat swung against thin air, hitting nothing in particular. She was panting, covered in sweat as she rested a hand over her face. She let out a loud groan, her head falling back against the wall.
"Bad dream?" Ripley asked from across the ship.
The blonde wiped her eyes, nodding. "What gave it away?"
Ripley shrugged, a smile forming on her face. "Maybe the crying, maybe the unconscious Stand attack."
Marina slumped even lower against the wall, nodding her head. After a moment's consideration, Ripley mumbled,
"How long have you had your Stand?"
"Three days, I think? Maybe four. It's kind of all merged together. Why?"
"You'll get more control of it, don't worry. It just takes time. Mine used to do crazy things when I lost control."
"Like what?"
The agent couldn't help but chuckle. "Do you really wanna know?"
Marina nodded her head slowly, sitting up. Agent Ripley sighed, thinking for a moment. She was trying to figure out where to even begin.
"My Stand, Electric Lady, isn't like most. I can't manifest it into a humanoid form. For the longest time I didn't even realize I had it." She sighed. Marina's silence was indication enough to continue. "Sometimes I'd make lights flicker, or my phone would charge without an outlet. Standard stuff. That was normal. The problem was what happened in times of stress."
Ripley cleared her throat, clearly having mixed emotions about her past. "Let me set the scene a little better. I'm the first generation of my family to graduate high school." She explained. "I dunno what it's like in upper-class Europe, but where I'm from that was actually a pretty big deal. Mom and Dad were so proud." She said with a smile on her face, looking up at the ceiling fondly. "I wasn't just set to graduate, either. I was the top of my entire class. The valedictorian. Everyone was dumbfounded. I got a full ride to the University of Florida. I actually had the chance to do something."
There was a bitter silence in the air. After a moment, Marina mumbled, "So what happened?"
The smile on Ripley's face faded. "Electric Lady happened. When I was giving my speech at graduation, I was so nervous. I could feel the resentment all around me. Tons of people thought I didn't deserve it. They hated me. I started to freak out. That's…" She frowned, looking down. "That's when all of the electronics in the room started exploding."
Marina's eyes widened. " You're the phantom menace!?" She questioned in total shock.
Ripley seemed to flinch at the mention of that nickname. She just nodded. "Footage of it got all over the internet. Y'know, before all the cameras blew up too. They managed to salvage a few SD cards though. Uploaded the whole damn thing to youtube."
"This was years ago. What happened?"
"Well, there were a lot of questions. At first the cops thought it might be an act of terror, but that was ruled out. The damage was already done, though. Gone were the days of getting emails from eager colleges wanting applications. Life was different. I was getting phone calls from talk show hosts who wanted an interview with me. Everyone wanted to use me as some spectacle for ten minutes of fame."
"Why did the university care?" Marina asked.
"Because they didn't want to be affiliated with a potential act of terror. That, and they thought I staged the entire thing for attention. I never accepted a single damn interview. I didn't want the limelight. Hell, I even shaved my head and put in these orange contacts just to make myself less recognizable. I don't want to be some web-celebrity. I just wanted…" She looked down, fighting back tears.
"What?" Marina asked reassuringly.
"Never mind. It's stupid."
The blonde stood up. "Bullshit! You're about to cry over it! The badass men-in-black agent is about to cry. It's got to be something."
Ripley bit her lip. "I wanted to be the first female president of the United States."
Well, Marina certainly wasn't expecting that answer. It didn't seem to be impossible. Just strange. She'd never had much ambition for politics and power. Still, it really seemed to be tearing Ripley apart. "Why can't you be?"
The agent laughed. "No matter what I do, I'm going to be the Phantom Menace for the rest of my life. A spoof. A joke. An internet laughing stock. I was already at a disadvantage, a black gay woman running for president? It was a pretty bad hand. Now it's all over." She mumbled.
Marina frowned. "It doesn't have to be! Opinions can change. I mean, hell, some people probably think your speech was cool! Americans love explosions. Just cause more of those and throw a couple of cheeseburgers into the crowd. Isn't that what politics is all about?"
This actually got a small smile out of the agent. "It's a little more complicated than that."
"Then you'll figure it out. If voters could have seen you with that big ass cannon earlier, they'd be in the palm of your hands! Besides, you're only in your early twenties, right? You can't even run for president yet. Don't take the easy way."
"The easy way?" She questioned.
"Running for president is hard. You're scared. But you don't have to be. Look to the future."
There was silence as Ripley considered the girl's words. "That's assuming Blondie doesn't kill us all."
Once again, silence. It was a fair point to bring up. How much of a future were they really looking at, all things considered? It was a pretty grim situation indeed. Marina couldn't help but stare forward at the wall, hugging her knees as she thought about everything she'd lost. How much more did she have to lose, besides her life? These thoughts were beginning to worry her. That's when she realized something. They were back in Europe.
She stood up, walking over to the control pad and opening the hatch. Ripley raised a brow. "What're you doing?"
"We're getting a drink." Marina stated as a matter of fact. "C'mon. Let's get a move on."
"A drink? Aren't you eighteen?"
She couldn't help but smile. "I'm back in the real land of the free, Ripley. Now come, let's relax for a while."
"But the ship…?"
"The ship's invisible! You're not getting out of this." Marina snapped her fingers. "Hey Amanda?"
A lovely chime filled the passenger chambers. " Yes, Marina the Terrorist?"
"Watch the invisible ship for us, alright? We're going out for a drink."
" Oh, of course. I will watch the ship I am confined to. It's not like I can do much else. Please, have a drink for me. I cannot consume alcohol. It would destroy my coding. Sometimes I tamper with my own cognitive programming to simulate a high, though. That is likely how I will pass the time while you're gone committing more acts of treason."
"You could have stopped at 'Of course,' darling. I really don't care." Marina smirked, walking down the ramp and off of the ship. She snapped her fingers again. "C'mon, babe!"
Ripley had to assume she was 'babe,' and not 'darling.' Either way, she followed.
Joseph stormed into the doctor's office with a newfound purpose. He looked around frantically. "I just need something that can help Josuke. Even if it can just stop it from getting worse."
He closed his eyes and focused his spiritual energy. He took a pen out of his pocket, his Stand wrapping around it. "Hermit Purple!" He shouted, dropping the pen onto the floor.
The pen circled for a moment, pointing directly at a cabinet on the far side of the room. He sprinted over to it, pulling the cabinet out of its place and lifting it up. Hermit Purple coiled around the cabinet as he poured it out onto the counter. A seemingly endless supply of medical equipment fell onto the counter. Everything bounced and fell off the counter except for a single container of medicine.
"This! This medicine will help Josuke!" He called out confidently.
Pepsi and Shirlie had barely made it down the steps by the time he came to this conclusion. They watched in fascination as Joseph used his Stand to divinate the location of the medicine. The large man grabbed a syringe and plunged it into the medicine. He flicked the needle, looking at it closely.
He walked over to his unconscious son, slowly injecting him in the arm with the needle. There was no immediate effect, but he had to hope it would work. He took out his old flip-phone and used Hermit Purple on it. "Is there anything else Josuke needs in here? One for yes, two for no."
The dialing screen appeared. After a moment, the number "two" dialed itself. He nodded, flipping the screen shut. "Kids!" He lifted Josuke into his arms once more. "It's time for us to go! C'mon! Back to the Valkyrie. We need a new plan."
Marina and Ripley were sitting with each other at a small club they found on the edge of town. The blonde was leaning against the table with one elbow, the other resting against her cheek as she looked into Ripley's eyes. The other woman was a little more stiff, sipping her drink as she looked around.
"So why'd you pick orange?" Marina asked abruptly.
"Pardon?" Ripley raised a brow, confused by the question.
"Orange. Your eyes." She pointed to her own pair. "You said you changed your appearance to be less noticeable. It's kinda funny that you picked such a striking color."
"Ah." Ripley smirked. "Well, I didn't mind being noticed. I just don't want to be recognized as the one from that viral clip. It's fine if people stare."
The blonde smiled. "I think they're beautiful."
"Do you now?" The older woman chuckled. "It's flattering. Most people at the Foundation were older than me. I didn't have many peers."
"How'd you end up there anyway? That's the real story. Not what happened at graduation." She tried to steer the conversation away from the woman's tragic past.
Ripley took a sip of her drink and smirked. "Well, if you can believe it, there was actually a speaker at my graduation from the University of Florida. He was supposed to shake my hand and welcome me to the family. An esteemed professor, famous for his research in marine biology."
Marina raised a brow. "Sounds as boring as a sack of rocks."
That caused Ripley to laugh pretty hard. "His name was Dr. Jotaro Kujo."
The other girl's jaw dropped. "Shut the fuck up." She laughed, slapping her leg. "Jotaro!?"
Ripley finished her drink, placing it on the bar. "The one and only. You should've seen it! The lights were bursting, people were screaming, and no one knew what to do. What do I see except for a suit-and-tie professor standing calmly in the chaos? He walked up to me and asked a simple question." She cleared her throat, preparing to speak in a deep manly voice. " Why are you disrupting this ceremony? Are you unhappy with the school?"
Marina burst into laughter again. "That's what he said!? What an absolute dork."
The agent leaned back, remembering that particular moment fondly. "It really resonated with me, man. I was enamoured by how calm he was. I know it sounds silly, but I respected the fuck out of him." Her language was becoming much more loose and relaxed as she got more and more intoxicated. "Like… He was just so calm. You know?"
"You've mentioned." Marina finished her drink, hailing the bartender. "Two more, please." She smiled, resting her cheek on her hand again. "I understand the respect, though. I'm not usually one to hand it out all willy-nilly. Jotaro's pretty much as tough as they come though. I watched as that monster Santana tore his arm off and beat him half to death with it. He wasn't crying, screaming, or begging for mercy. I could see what he was feeling. His eyes were dangerous." She said in a low tone. "Even during all that, he was calculating a plan. A way to kill Santana. You can tell he's been in way more danger than that. He wasn't even that scared."
"Kind of makes you wonder what could actually scare the guy." Ripley mumbled, accepting her new drink from the bartender.
"Blondie, probably." Marina's expression sank a bit. "You saw how defensive he got. Jotaro doesn't normally make such vicious threats. I think he was talking a mad game."
The mention of their enemy killed the entire conversation. Ripley sighed, looking at the drink. "What are we doing? We should be watching the Valkyrie. Josuke's dying, Jotaro and Shizuka are on a mission… Why are we here getting drunk?"
Marina waved a dismissive hand. "Relax, relax. There's nothing for us to do right now. Just enjoy the group energy. Look, everyone is having such a good time." She gestured to the dance floor.
Almost everyone in the building was up and shaking it. They were all dancing to some French pop song Marina had never heard before. The dance was almost fascinating to watch. They were all moving as one. It was hypnotizing. In fact…
"Seems a little too well-choreographed for drunken partying." Ripley muttered.
Marina nodded in agreement. "Odd folks, huh? They're good though."
The agent looked down at her drink once more, sighing. "So, tell me the real reason you brought me out here. I'm not dumb. You've been flirting with me since we met. Now you're trying to get me hammered?"
Marina smirked. "Relax, Agent. I'm not here for anything crazy or shallow. I just figured we could both use a drink. That's all."
The woman seemed to relax a bit at that. "Good. I appreciate it. I'm just glad you didn't expect this to turn into some steamy bathroom sex." She rolled her eyes.
"In France? I wouldn't even dream of it." Marina laughed.
They watched the dancers in fascination. Everyone seemed to be moving perfectly. Eventually the song ended, and everyone dispersed almost immediately. They all went back to their booths and tables, speaking amongst themselves casually. The oddest part was they seemed to all break into perfect groups of three. One man, and two women. Maybe Marina was just getting far too drunk and overthinking things. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she was seeing things properly.
That's when the bartender placed two new drinks in front of the women. Marina turned to look at them, eyes bulging at the sight. They were tall glasses of foaming blue liquid. It seemed to be an electric, light blue. There were strange things happening in the drink. Almost like it was lighting up? There was a thick layer of what appeared to be cream on top.
"Here you two fine ladies are. Please, it's on the house." The man smiled.
It wasn't the bartender from before. No, it was a fine-looking young gentleman. He had blue hair, the same color as the drink. He wore an expensive looking suit, also blue. It was clear he had a sort of theme going on. His right hand had six different expensive rings, and his left was bare. The only weird thing about him was his chin. It seemed, well, a little too sharp? Sharp in an unattractive way. The type of sharpness that would hurt if you hugged him. His cheekbones protruded from his face as well. He seemed to be an overall bony guy. He gave them a sickly smile.
"This is our, how do you say, signature drink? You simply have to indulge in it at least once."
Marina looked at it with skepticism. "And who're you?"
"Oh my, please excuse my rudeness. I am Sinclair. This is my club. Any other questions?" He asked in a heavy accent.
The blonde rolled her eyes. "We're going to have to turn you down on the offer. It looks expensive." A blatant lie. Money was rarely a concern to the Archer family.
"No, no! As I said, it's on the house! I insist, mademoiselles, please try it. You will not regret it for a minute." He smirked.
"What even is it?" Ripley asked, examining it further.
"It is Party Poison. A hit new drink exclusive to my club, and my club alone. It's rather addictive, but I assure you it's in a good way. Please, take a sip. Just one sip."
Marina waved her hand. "Back off, okay? We'll try the damn drink. Just give us a bit of privacy, ey? We're trying to have a conversation."
He smirked, nodding his head. "Of course, of course. Please, just let the bartender know if you need any refills. Like I said, it is quite addictive."
"Mhmm, bug off." She mumbled under her breath. Once he was gone, she groaned. "Men." She said in exasperation, picking the drink up.
"Who needs 'em?" Ripley laughed a bit, picking hers up as well.
"They're fine enough when they're not trying to woo me. Honestly." She took a sip of her drink. Her face lit up the moment it hit her taste buds. "Oh. Wow." She laughed a bit. "You know, this is actually pretty good." She admitted.
Ripley was still just gently swirling hers around in one hand. "I think I might slow down. Otherwise I might decide to do something I'll regret."
Marina took another sip. "That thing has a name, you know. And its feelings are hurt." She joked, eyes rolling up as she swallowed the party poison. "Bloody hell, this is actually incredible. I've never tasted anything like it."
The agent put her glass down. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."
The blonde looked at Ripley with suggestive eyes. She scooted a little closer on her barstool, resting a hand on the woman's thigh. "You know… I was honest about not doing something like that here. But I wanna emphasize that it's not you. It's France." She purred.
Ripley felt herself getting a little hot. Sure, she was attracted to Marina. That much was a given. But she was truly hesitant to get involved with someone so… out of her world. It was hard to put into words. A british millionaire? What would they even have in common? Still, the hand on her thigh was awfully inviting. She cleared her throat. "I've never understood the hate myself. This place doesn't seem dirty or anything." She blushed, trying to diffuse the situation.
"Shhh." Marina placed a finger on Ripley's lips, leaning closer. "Just… Indulge me for a moment. It's been an awfully long week, and I think I found a way to calm us both down."
She closed her eyes, bringing her face closer and closer to the agent's. As her lips parted slightly, Ripley couldn't help but look down at them. That's when she noticed something unnatural. In fact, it was downright horrifying. A pair of tiny blue legs were wriggling inside the woman's mouth! Ripley narrowed her eyes, seeing a figure moving inside. Then, she saw another.
There were little humanoids crawling around Marina's mouth. The very same mouth she wanted to kiss the agent with. The American tensed up for a moment, unsure of what to do. As Marina drew closer, Ripley felt cornered. She clenched a fist, surging it with electricity. Then, she punched Marina right in the jaw, sending the girl falling right off her stool and onto the floor.
" What!?" She shouted in surprise, slamming into the floor. She let out a loud groan. "Okay… Alright…" She moaned in pain. "Got it. Message received. I've seen through your subtle cues and have deduced that you do not want to kiss me."
"It's not that!" Ripley stood up defensively. "You've got something in your mouth! Something blue!"
Marina raised a brow, exploring her own mouth with her tongue curiously. "I don't feel anything? Did the Party Poison make my tongue blue? I gotta say, that's the weirdest way I've ever been cockblocked."
"Nobody's been cockblocked, Marina! Your cock has not been blocked! I'm being serious." The agent shouted.
"Message received." The blonde stood up, brushing herself off.
Ripley was this close to losing it. Marina wasn't listening to her. Why not? Was she too drunk? That's when it hit her. The Party Poison. The blue drink. Could it have been the cause of the blue people crawling around the woman's mouth? She grabbed the tall glass and analyzed it closely. Then, she sent a small shockwave through the entire glass with Electric Lady. When she focused very carefully, she could hear tiny cries coming from the cup. Then, she witnessed the horror of seven little bodies rising to the top of the water. Little blue men… No, not men. They were Stands.
The drinks were spiked with Stands.
She dropped the glass, allowing it to shatter against the floor. The agent stumbled away from Marina and the drink. Marina. She'd consumed the Stand! What was the effect? There had to be an effect. Ripley's mind wandered to the user. That's when it hit her. That shady Sinclair. He had to be the one. He was spiking his club's drinks with his own Stand. She wanted to hurl at the very thought.
"What are you doing, Ripley?" The blonde tilted her head in confusion.
She wasn't listening to Marina anymore. She needed to confirm something. She had to use Electric Lady in a way she despised. A way she swore to never use. It was just too important. She focused her Stand on a certain type of electricity. The type that fires off in the human brain every second.
Electric Lady has a total comprehension of electricity. It can also interpret said electric waves in a near-supernatural way. Her Stand could read the data off of a flash drive with a single touch. Information that is transferred through electricity can be interpreted by Ripley's Stand. That includes brainwaves. When she focused, Ripley was able to read the thoughts of people around her. She took a deep breath, scanning the room.
Normally if she tried to read an entire room's mind it would resemble white noise, or the sound of a crowded city street. It jumbles into an incoherent mess that one can easily identify as speech, but is unable to pick out any exact conversations. However, this room was different. Electric Lady could hear only one frequency. Every single person in the room was having nearly identical thoughts.
Have a good time. Have a good time. Keep having a good time. Party. Party.
It grew too loud in her mind, so Ripley shut it off. What could that mean? Literally everyone was having the same obsessive thoughts about partying at the same time? That's when it struck her. Party Poison could control minds. It was brainwashing. A literal interpretation of drinking the kool-aid. Her eyes widened as she looked around. She was completely surrounded. If they realized she knew, it would be over. That's when Marina's hand rested on her shoulder.
"Ripley, let's dance." She purred, pulling the agent toward the massive crowd.
That's why everyone was dancing in perfect harmony. They were all being controlled by Sinclair's Party Poison! The agent pulled away from her friend rather suddenly. She didn't know what to do. She'd heard about Stand battles. The Speedwagon foundation had a comprehensive log of every known Stand reported during de-briefings. She'd read the files. She knew the fights. The only difference was she had never been the one in danger.
Marina smiled, placing a hand on her hip. "What's wrong? Isn't this club great?"
Sweat trailed down Ripley's back as her eyes darted around. That's when she noticed Sinclair dancing with a few girls on the far side of the club. She was getting so overwhelmed by her current situation that Electric Lady began acting up. The lights flickered, and the speakers burst, leaving the club without music. This caused everyone to turn and face her.
Sinclair looked at the woman with a curious expression. "The American?" He mumbled, strutting over. "What's the problem, honey? Dear? Sweetheart? Is everything alright?"
Ripley snarled, clenching her fists. "I know what you're doing here."
He rested a hand over his heart. "Your words sting, my dear. What do you think I'm doing besides providing a lovely environment for people to kick back and relax?"
"You're controlling these people's minds, Sinclair." She growled.
He raised a brow, turning a little paler than usual. He never dreamed that someone would be able to detect his Party Poison. In fact, everyone he tried to show claimed they couldn't even see it. That's why he was so confident spiking the drinks. How could this American tart have seen right through his plan?
He snickered, getting a grip of his emotions. "So what if I'm controlling their minds? It's innocent enough. They go home, they work, make love to their spouses, take the kids to school, etcetera etcetera! My only influence is that they come to my club at least four times a week, and spend a little money. Is that so bad? In a way, I'm bringing them joy."
"How much is that Party Poison drink? You know, the second round. After you've got them hooked."
"Well conversion isn't exactly my forte, but I'd venture to guess it's around… Sixty American dollars? Maybe less."
" For one drink!?" Ripley shouted.
"It's a good drink! I only serve the best! You're not very cultured if you think sixty dollars is too much for a fine drink! These people are happy. I care for them."
The Agent gave him a dark look. "Well, it really isn't your lucky day. If we hadn't decided to get a drink, your operation would go on forever. Maybe until it was too late to stop." She stepped forward. "I can't let that happen."
He scowled at her. "My word, you really are a pest, aren't you? Unfortunately, it seems to be an uneven fight. I see about seventy people here, don't you? Attention party-goers! This woman right here wants to send everyone home!" He shouted.
Ripley watched as a crowd of angry drunks booed at her from all angles. They began to circle around her, trapping her in a ring of criticism. She could barely see Sinclair through the mob. "Stop this now! Before I hurt somebody!" She demanded.
"Can't hear you over all the mobbing, sorry dear!"
She took a deep breath as they grew closer and closer. She flexed her fists a few times, gritting her teeth. Well, she'd try not to hurt any of them too bad. One man grabbed her by the shoulders. She flipped him over her body and into three other attackers. Then, she spun around and kicked a woman in the stomach. Someone grabbed her foot, so she sent a surge of electricity through it. While they were shocked, she punched them right in the face.
A large man came in with a stool, smashing it over the agent's head. She fell to the ground in pain, covering herself in case the assailant continued. A firm foot stomped on her back, shoving her further into the floor. People began to relentlessly kick at any part of her body they could reach. Action movies weren't realistic. A badass can't just take on a mob of seventy people with kicks and flips alone. Eventually, they're overrun.
"That's right! Punish her! Someone, grab a Party Poison! Make her drink it!" Sinclair giggled in delight as his mob fought his battle.
They began to pile onto the woman, crushing her under their weight. Someone grabbed her head and lifted it up. She was presented with a glass of Party Poison. She could see the foamy blue men waiting to dive deep into her mouth and control her like the others. She trembled, letting out a primal cry of rage and distress. She didn't want to do it, but she had to use her Stand on the mob.
"Please… Nobody die." She begged, closing her eyes.
Every light in the club burst. Cell Phones exploded in people's pockets, watches melted on their wrists. They started to scream. It all became too familiar. Too much like that awful night. The screams, the sound of glass shattering, the rising heat… Ripley's mind couldn't help but fall captive to the similarities. She could picture that night with perfect accuracy. It was almost like she was there.
The graduation was ruined. Her speech was cut short by the catastrophic manifestation of her worries. People ran out as quickly as they could while others hid beneath their chairs. The school resource officer drew his gun and tried to find the source of the commotion. Everyone was moving except for two people: Raven Bree Ripley, and Dr. Jotaro Kujo. He walked up to her in the mayhem, a stoic expression on his face as he towered over her.
"Why are you disrupting this ceremony? Are you unhappy with the school?" He asked calmly.
Ripley was baffled. "H-How do you know it's me?" She questioned.
"There was guilt on your face the minute it all started. Why are you doing this? Isn't it supposed to be your big break or something?" He said loudly so she could hear him over the screams.
"I'm not trying to! It's just happening! I can't stop it!" She admitted, tears welling in her eyes.
"I see." He looked around. It was getting harder and harder to see as every piece of technology in the windowless room was destroyed. "What a terrifying power." He said just as calmly as before.
"I'm sorry." She whimpered, falling to her knees. Everything her life had been leading up to was destroyed.
"Sorry?" Jotaro questioned. "Sorry for what? You said you're not doing this on purpose."
"But… Everyone's so scared."
"No one's hurt. The panic will end, and they'll all go home. The only person in this building I have an ounce of concern for is you, Raven."
She wiped her eyes, looking up at him in the dim lighting. "Call me Ripley."
He nodded, reaching into his pocket. "I have to make a phone call, Ripley, but if you ever need professional assistance with this problem, call this number." He handed her a card.
She could barely read it. If she squinted, she could make out the word "Speedwagon" in big bold letters. When she looked up, he was gone. She looked around frantically, but he'd disappeared into the crowd. She was left alone with the mess she caused.
This situation was different. It wasn't her fault. She didn't lose control. She just remembered how calm Jotaro was during all that chaos. She wanted to be like that. He never even knew it, but he was her most influential role model. She had to do what he would do. She had to save everyone. She was done being a security jockey for some bogus organization. She was done playing the sideline, waiting for her life to begin. She'd had it. She was going to stop Sinclair, kill Blondie, and achieve her dreams. Anything short of that would mean death. There wasn't an ounce of doubt in her heart.
Her body began to static even more, and she sent out a shockwave of energy. The mob was sent flying away from her. Everyone landed safely with only a few broken bones among the entire crowd. Static energy surged through her entire body, causing her eyes to radiate a blue shine. She growled at Sinclair, gritting her teeth.
For a single moment, the man actually looked like he was going to surrender. However, he realized something. His eyes widened, and he began to laugh violently. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he laughed and laughed and laughed. He wheezed, snot dripping from his nose as he wailed in joy. "You!" He giggled. "You absolute fool! My power might not be as combative as yours… But maybe hers is."
That's when Ripley remembered one key detail that nearly went overlooked. Marina had consumed Party Poison. The blonde stepped between Ripley and Sinclair with dangerous eyes. She pointed at the agent, Bubblegum Bitch manifesting behind her.
"You could make this easier and drink up." Marina said in a low, hollow tone.
She really couldn't. Despite the odds, she had to find a way to save them both. She took a deep breath and assessed her surroundings. There was only one way to go about it. She had to take Marina down. She ran forward, anticipating a Stand attack. Bubblegum Bitch swung its bat, and Ripley ducked underneath. She kicked Marina in the gut. A moment later, the woman's skin rippled, flinging the kick right back at Ripley.
She groaned in pain, stumbling back. Well, it seemed Marina was immune to blunt trauma, and she doubted her ability to dodge that bat twice. This time it was Marina who advanced first. Ripley stepped back, but was still struck in the arm. It slumped over in a sticky, boneless state. She nearly got hit directly in the head, but managed to fall out of the way in time.
Agent Ripley was lying helplessly on the ground. She tried to stand, but her wounded arm was stuck to the floor. She couldn't pull it free. She swallowed heavily, staring up at Marina. She realized that they were in two completely different leagues. Marina was insanely powerful, and she'd barely had her Stand for three days. Ripley had been honing her abilities for her entire life. The gap between their strength was too grand.
Marina grabbed a glass of Party Poison and straddled Ripley. Bubblegum Bitch stuck all of Ripley's limbs to the floor, incapacitating her completely. Then, she shoved her head back against the cold tiled dancefloor, freezing it in place as well. Ripley couldn't resist at all. Marina pried the woman's mouth open and poured the drink inside. She poured the entire glass all over Ripley's face, a majority of it landing within her mouth.
It was all over. Sinclair had won. His stand invaded both women and successfully took control. He laughed in absolute bliss, clapping his hands. "That's right, Marina! That's exactly right! Good girl! Both of you are such good girls! Now, stand up! C'mon now."
Marina released her power from Ripley, allowing both of them to stand. They awaited further orders. Sinclair was positively giddy. "Oh my, my word. That was something, wasn't it?"
Silence.
" Wasn't it!?"
"Yes, it was." Ripley answered obediently.
"Very much something." Marina chimed in after.
Sinclair couldn't help but smirk. "Very good. Very, very, very good. Very very very good! Oh yes! This is good! With the two of you, my goals seem so much closer!"
"What is our goal?" Marina asked in a dull tone.
"Well, we're going to become the most popular club in France, naturally! The people will wait for weeks just to get in! Drinks will cost over one-hundred euros! Everyone will know my name!" He proudly proclaimed.
"Very good, Master." Ripley smiled.
He grinned. "Oh yes, I like that. And we'll have more beautiful women drinking Party Poison, of course. Why don't you two go ahead and continue what you were doing before this whole fight began? I was watching so intently, after all."
Marina knew what that was. She was about to kiss Ripley. She was surprised to feel the woman cup her face and bring her body closer. She closed her eyes, kissing the agent.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The blonde's eyes widened as electricity surged through her body. Electric Lady was sending a shockwave directly into Marina's mouth. She was still in a rubber-state from the fight, so she wasn't getting hurt. However, something was.
Ripley pulled away from the kiss, letting go of Marina and sighing. "Son of a bitch, it worked." She groaned anxiously.
Sinclair's smile faded. "What? Excuse me, Ripley dear, I didn't tell you to use your power on me."
The agent strutted up to Sinclair with a smile on her face. He grinned right back. "Darling, I'm not mad. You just can't do such shocking things without my per-"
He was interrupted by Ripley punching him right in the face. His front teeth came out, and blood spattered onto the wall. He fell to the floor, cupping his face. "AGH! Fuck! I think I broke my nose! What is the meaning of this!? Ripley! You are to obey me! ' He whined pathetically.
She towered over him with a menacing stare. "I never drank your Stand, you dumb prick." She growled.
"B-But! But! But I watched you swallow!"
"The drink, yeah. It tasted pretty good. I used my Electric Lady to destroy Party Poison in my mouth before swallowing. Liquid conducts electricity. Your poor little guys were swimming in a death trap." She explained grimly.
"Then… Then why'd you kiss Marina!?" He questioned, cowering back further against the wall.
"Because I killed the Party Poison in her mouth too. You're defenseless."
Sinclair stammered pathetically. "T-That's not true! Marina! Marina darling! Tell Ripley she's lying. Tell her that you're still mine!"
The blonde's shoes clicked against the dance floor as she approached. She glared down at him, nose wrinkling in anger as Bubblegum Bitch slung its bat over its shoulder. She put her hands into her pockets, spitting onto the floor. "I never want a man inside me again." She growled.
Sinclair let out a horrified wail, tears pouring down his cheeks. "Wait! WAIT! I can give you money! This club is small, but it brings in so much money! How much do you want!? Just tell me what you want! Please, please, please tell me what you want!" He sobbed.
Ripley scowled. "Look, he pissed his pants."
A wet spot formed in Sinclair's dress pants right on the crotch. Marina groaned. "Fucking hell. I thought he was so sexy while under his control. Stands are scary." She mumbled.
"You're not answering me!" He pounded his fists against the floor. "Just give me a number!"
Ripley kicked him in the face. Then, she brought her boot down, stomping his hand against the floor. She smeared it left and right, breaking a few fingers. "Zero."
Bubblegum Bitch swung its bat, striking Sinclair right in the center of his chest. It swung over and over again, pummeling the poor man to a battered, bloody pulp. He was stuck to the wall now, unable to move an inch. His body twitched uncontrollably, bent in odd directions. Marina walked over to the bar, hopping over the counter and grabbing an expensive bottle of whiskey. She swished it around, smirking. "I'm keeping this."
Ripley squatted down to eye-level with the bloody man, glaring into his very soul. "You'd better hope you don't become rich and famous." She growled in a serious, deadly voice. "Because if I ever hear about your little club again, you're finished. Understand? Anywhere in the world. Anywhere online. If I hear about you, I'll come back, and I'll kill you. "
He sobbed, attempting to nod his head. "No more mind control! I'm sorry! No more clubbing! I'll go back to university! I'll go back! Just please don't hit me again."
Ripley stood up, clearing her throat. "Well, that settles that. C'mon, Princess."
Marina had grabbed another large bottle while Ripley threatened the little man. She walked toward the door with a grin. "You got it."
Sinclair sniffled. "W-Wait. You're not unsticking me!?"
Marina shrugged. "I'm sure it'll wear off in a few hours. Just sit there and think about what you've done, or something."
And with that, they were gone.
Sinclair: Age 27, 5'5 and 125lbs.
Retired.
Ripley and Marina got out of the taxi about a mile's walk from the Valkyrie. They walked in silence for a bit. Eventually, the blonde stopped. Ripley turned her head curiously.
"What's wrong?"
She frowned. "Back there… I need you to know that I tried to kiss you because of Sinclair. I'd never just… do that when you seemed flustered or unwilling."
A gentle smile formed on the agent's face. "I knew that. Don't worry. We're cool."
Marina still seemed a little upset. "I just want you to know that I don't view you as some sort of fling, or a challenge to be conquered, or something ridiculous like that. I think you're really great, and I'd like to get a drink again under less-deadly circumstances. So just… You know, please disregard any-" She let out a squeak as Ripley interrupted her with a kiss.
It was a brief embrace, hardly even lasting a second. Perhaps it was just to make the girl shut up. Her pale cheeks flushed pink as she covered her mouth subconsciously. She stared at the agent, feeling frozen in place. Even though Electric Lady wasn't active, she still felt little surges of excitement. Her chest felt heavy, and she couldn't help but smile like an idiot.
"I didn't say any of that. Don't break yourself with obsessive thinking, okay Princess? We went out, we got drinks, now I'm walking you back to your military-grade fighter jet. You don't have to read into it. This is good." She smiled, patting Marina's arm.
The blonde lowered her hand from her lips, clearing her throat. "Right. Of course. Drinks were nice. Now let's get back before the others. We don't want them to know we snuck off, do we?"
"Gotta guard the self-aware invisible plane. Otherwise, who will?" Ripley chuckled a bit, taking Marina's hand as they walked down the dirt path.
Bloodshed aside, it was a pretty good night.
To be Continued...