Florida, 2006
Giorno could have taken a private jet, but he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention. To his relief, the first-class seating for the trip from Rome to Florida wasn't uncomfortable in any shape or form. It wasn't his first time traveling outside of Italy; in fact, he wasn't even born there. It was his first time traveling this far all on his own, however. It was practically impossible for him to get lost, with how well-prepared Fugo had been, giving him all that he needed for the trip. He wasn't afraid of something possibly happening to him either, not while having GER with him. Still, for some unknown reason, he felt a certain unease and a bit out of his field.
They had been very close to tying Mista up in order to prevent him from following as a bodyguard. As if he needed one. More than anything, he really needed to do this alone. Leaving the gunman in command to look after Passione while he was gone was a risky decision, but it ensured that he wouldn't dare follow.
Giorno wasn't too keen on the idea of visiting the priest in his clergy house, preferring to stay in a hotel, but he desperately needed to know all that he could about his body's mysterious new condition, what it all consisted of and whether it was reversible. And there was a part of him that thirsted to know more about his brothers too. In order to get to know them, he was willing to make sacrifices, such as enduring the Florida climate. Or Florida food. Or the Floridians themselves.
Damn, most of these people came from civilized parts of the world, from within the same country even. Had the heat caused them to forget how to act like civilized humans?
His final stop looked as normal as a priest's house could be. Being a member of the mob, Giorno had been to quite a few and the air of familiarity within such a different environment gave him chills. He wondered if the priest was trying to make an effort to make him feel at home, or if he had just done it because it might have been to DIO's liking. Or maybe priests' houses were the same all over the world, not that he had visited any others in Florida, nor was he interested in doing that kind of tourism.
The first red flag was raised when Pucci only introduced him to Donatello, neglecting to bring forth his other two brothers to meet him. His half-brother, the second eldest after him, was also blond, his hair tied in a short ponytail at the back, and almost as tall. A handsome young man, he may have seemed more charismatic if he didn't exude so much contempt for everyone. Giorno had come with some flowery delusions at the prospect of meeting his siblings, but Donatello shattered those from the get-go.
While the priest seemed to seethe with excitement at Giorno potentially joining them, Donatello glared daggers at him the whole time. It didn't take long for him to make it clear that even though Giorno was older and came from a better position than him, he was going to fight for his position as DIO's heir.
Giorno still didn't trust the priest, but he had to acknowledge that his words had only rang true so far. If his brother's increasingly pale complexion and visible perspiration were any indications, his dhampyr transformation seemed to have been triggered as soon as Giorno had arrived, proving that this was a phenomenon that only the sons of Dio were experiencing. Apparently, growth hormones were involved, and having someone else like him around accelerated the process. Unfortunately, a faster process also meant it was more painful; it didn't help gain him any sympathy from Donatello. Perhaps this was why he wasn't allowed to meet the other two yet.
Technically, Donatello was his younger brother, so he tried to think of him as such. His thoughts couldn't help but briefly trail over to Narancia; although he had been older than Giorno, he was like a little brother.
Being a word games lover, in a moment of thoughtlessness, Giorno mentioned the Florida Man game to his newfound brother—that game where you search up your birthday along with 'Florida Man' and come up with wacky news headlines.
Not only was Donatello not amused, but he even looked a bit offended, as he was a Florida man himself. For Giorno, reading people was normally a piece of cake, but it was as if the whole family affair had nullified his IQ to the point of making him once again feel like a lost young man and not a powerful Stand user and mob boss. There was certainly something about Donatello's deal that reminded him of family, but seeing as Giorno was mistreated during his childhood, that couldn't really be considered a good thing.
"Fucking Italian," he thought he heard Donatello spit out under his breath. His tight grimace may have been in part due to the pain he was experiencing and not just the nuisance he found Giorno to be.
It's not like Giorno wasn't used to being dealt such cold treatment; his own stepfather had treated him horribly until he'd managed to move to the school dormitories. In a way, he had suffered very similarly upon first joining Passione, whether it was the fight with Bruno, the attack by Polpo, or even Abbacchio's cheap hazing. But the difference was clear; his stepfather would have been riled up by anyone who dared consume his money, even if it was to eat, while Bruno had only been doing his job and Polpo in kind with the initiation test. As for Abbacchio... Well, though he must admit that his beginnings with him were not the most pleasant, he had come to understand the ex-cop. He could say without any shame that he missed him to this day.
It was apparent that Donatello hated him to the bones. As Giorno tried to obtain all the information he could from the priest without falling into his manipulations, it seemed to him that Donatello was in the same boat, only he was much better at pretending to be under the priest's spell.
Pucci dropped the long-anticipated pieces of information little by little, much of which Giorno already knew based on his own experimentation. He confirmed that he was not incapacitated under the sun, though he still had to protect himself as someone with very pale skin. He wondered if having a house full of dhampyres in Florida, with its tropical climate, was even practical; it would be a better idea to do as the Cullens did in that popular novel, Twilight, that he had picked up in a vain attempt at searching for useful information on his condition. Failed attempts at research aside, he actually ended up being hooked to the story.
The results of his experiments back in Rome had also shown that he only needed a little blood to sustain himself and that he could do so almost without any problem with GER. Normal food served him quite well too.
Days' worth of long sermons passed on through the priest's mouth about his father's greatness before he finally had something useful to say to him.
"Vampires have become near-extinct, but there is something that was able to give your father full power, as it could now do for you too—the blood of the Joestars."
Dr. Kujo's face popped into his mind. He couldn't imagine biting that man without ending up toothless. He was the same man who had managed to assassinate his powerful father, after all, so he couldn't just very well reach out and curb his neck.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when Pucci began talking about other Joestars. There was also the elderly Joseph Joestar, who lived with his wife and two daughters. The younger daughter was barely past the toddler age and could have passed off for his own granddaughter; surely, the product of an adventure. But she could serve them just as well, in addition to his eldest daughter. They knew the family lived in New York, but it didn't seem like a whole lot of information. The city was too big for it to be of any use to them.
"New York, I see," Donatello muttered.
Giorno didn't pay much attention to him, something he would come to deeply regret later. The next day, Donatello was gone.
Seeing his shock and panic, Pucci smilingly told him that gravity could work on his brother. Giorno was fed up with the priest's speeches about gravity and other nonsense. He was more worried about the fact that there were people in real danger because of his brother. He pulled out all contacts; luckily, there were other gangsters in New York with whom Passione had contact and that could help him. He took a private flight, leaving a mound of favors to owe in his wake.
It's not like he particularly cared for the Joestars or anything, but he couldn't be so useless that he couldn't even save an older man and his daughters. They weren't part of any mafia organization nor part of the plans of a psychopath with a god-complex like his father. They simply had the misfortune to be born into a family targeted by monsters. As of now, he couldn't see Pucci as anything but a monster, just like his father, even though he preserved humanity. The word 'useless' began to appear with great insistence in his mind, the very same one his Stand shouted.
He soon came upon the Joestars' place and sensed Stand power at play as he approached the area. The power somehow reminded him of his own, only it was the other side of the coin.
Donatello's power tasted like death.
He started to have the sinking feeling that he could have traced his brother even without having acquired Joseph Joestar's address beforehand. He didn't yet know what his brother's power was, but what he was certain of was that it was terrifying. The house's security had fallen, and there were even some dead policemen lying on the ground. He hadn't been fast enough. He hadn't been enough. He hadn't been helpful. Useless. Useless. Useless.
As he went deeper, he was able to find some men who were still alive but on the throes of death. He used GER to make quick work of their injuries. The pain they had to endure might be unbearable, but there was no time to feel pity. Either he was quick and cruel, or he let them die.
The following scene couldn't have really been unexpected, but the events would ingrain themselves in Giorno and prey on his mind for years to come. Donatello stood in the center of the room, his hand around a terrified little girl's neck. Behind them was a frail old lady who was trying desperately to hold an unconscious woman. There was also another Stand user, a young man with a pompadour; Giorno didn't recall any mention of him from Pucci. The young man had his hands full dealing with what seemed to be part of Mr. Joestar's security team.
Seeing him appear, Donatello flashed his teeth into a brief smile before biting the girl's wrist mercilessly. His teeth were now sharpened to the point where they could tear through skin, reaching bone.
Giorno directed his Stand against him, but despite his speed, he did not have time to intervene. Some kind of purple vine caught on Donatello's leg almost out of nowhere, wrenching the girl from his arms. She landed in the young man's embrace, who sealed the potentially life-threatening wound in a pink glow.
"You can keep the girl. She's clearly not a Joestar," Donatello said, spitting out some of the blood he had drawn from her.
"I thought we were done with all of you back in Switzerland," said the old man with a tired smile as Donatello roughly grabbed him by his collar. "But if a Joestar is what you're looking for, leave my daughters and take my blood instead. You're not the first leech to try it."
"You don't have to ask me, old man."
"You know, there was once someone who was in a very similar situation to mine and they did all that they could without hesitation. Josuke, I love you. Suzie, love of my life, tell our daughters that I will always love them." The old man looked at Donatello and smiled before saying, "The next thing you're going to say is 'shut up and die, old man'."
"Shut up and die, old man." When he realized that he had predicted the words, it only angered him, and even more so when he realized that he was wrapped in some kind of bramble.
He was lucky that New York was a violent city; his Underworld had plenty of material to work.
Some slaves controlled by Underworld tossed Joseph to him. The old man's neck seemed to be on the verge of breaking at any moment, but Donatello did not care. He only wanted his blood. Just when he was about to bite, he heard an almost dying whisper for 'overdrive'.
It wasn't like sunlight could kill him, but concentrated Hamon was another story. This burst of Hamon was all the life force in Joseph Joestar's body. The star birthmark used to mark a tragic but honorable end for them, and Joseph was willing to have one like that. He was old and he didn't mind dying if he could save his own, just as he hadn't cared when he was much younger. 'I almost died twice now, but I guess third is the charm. At least I'll go down saving the ones I love. Soon I'll be with you, Granny Erina, Speedwagon, Caesar...Avdol...Kakyoin…'
As the life left Joseph Joestar, Underworld was so damaged that it shut down.
Donatello was badly wounded himself, but he had gotten a few drops of Joseph's blood. Seeing Giorno come after him, he manifested his stand one more time with stubborn determination in a last ditch effort to intercept him and escape. Underworld recreated a shooting to trap Giorno.
Giorno expected Gold Experience Requiem to launch a counter-attack on his brother, but for the first time in his life, his Stand failed to go after the user. Underworld's ability to recreate memories from the past to be used against others seemed to not count as a direct stand attack, thus not warranting Gold Experience Requiem's automatic involvement. A smirk stretched across Donatello's previously terrified face, but it quickly filled with astonishment when the shooters he'd manifested flickered and died out due to an unseen force. Gold Experience Requiem and Underworld stood at a distance from each other, neither able to do anything to the other with their abilities.
If Gold Experience was life, then Underworld was death. To cast with each other was to cancel each other out. Realizing this, Donatello did the only thing he could do: create chaos in his wake and lose himself in the crowd, relying on his brother's weakness to help the injured.
Giorno was caught between trying to save the old man or giving chase to his brother. No, he corrected himself, that monster was not his brother.
The young man with the pompadour looked at him without any familiarity. Apparently, he also had an ability that allowed him to heal, for the old man's neck wound disappeared before his very eyes. But it was too late. No Stand could bring back the dead. Giorno made his own attempts, but it only resulted in flowers blooming on the dead man's body. Up close, he couldn't help but notice how eerily similar those unseeing eyes were to his own. In the backdrop of soft sobs and wails, he mercifully closed them.
"Who are you?" the young man croaked, numb with shock. Giorno recalled the name the late Mr. Joestar had referred to him by.
"My name is Giorno Giovanna, and the vermin who did this is one of Dio's sons, just like me. However, I want to stop them. You must take all the Joestars, including the old man's daughters, away from here. May Jotaro Kujo protect them. And if there is someone else out there with Joestar blood, it would be safer for them if you don't try anything, as he and the cazzo priest do not know of anyone else."
"Why should I trust you, a son of Dio? Your brother just killed my father," Josuke said. His startling big blue eyes, mayhaps once innocent, were now filled with pain and rage.
"Don't ever refer to him as my brother," he said in a deadly serious tone. The Don was used to people addressing him in anger and pain. "I didn't even know he was your father, and honestly, the less I know, the better. I'm the only one who doesn't want the Joestars dead or for Donatello to gain more power. You don't have to trust that I want what's good for you, but I assure you, more than anything, I want to stop that monster. I will try to catch him, and if one day I succeed, I will inform Jotaro Kujo. Until then, hide your Joestar identity. If he ever learns that you exist, you'll be in danger too."
Chaos had overtaken the city, and there was talk of an attack. At least Giorno had Donatello's power almost completely figured out. He suppressed a shiver when thinking about his failure to put him in a punishment loop. He supposed that a time where Gold Experience Requiem met his weakness had to come at some point. There truly was no such thing as an all-invincible Stand.
His overreliance on Requiem had created room for weakness, which inevitably led to his uselessness. Never again.
Of course, he couldn't find Enrico Pucci when he returned to Florida. It didn't matter that he trashed the house or that he tried to make what he thought were the priest's personal belongings fly to him. He was gone. After sending professionals to search the house, only to find nothing, he ordered it to be demolished regardless of the cost. Shortly after, he flew back to Italy, but that did not mean that he was giving up. If he had to build up Passione even further to leave them no part of the world to hide in, that is exactly what he would do.
Giorno Giovanna had a goal, and he was determined to achieve it.
