Chapter 3: Courtesy
"What?" Joseph muttered, baffled. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly that," the stuffy Angel said, leaning back in his seat, weaving his fingers together. "You may have noticed, but Heaven's layout is a little… different from what you may be accustomed to."
"Yeah, a little," Joseph replied, snarking through his confusion. "How does that relate to my situation?"
He sipped his ambrosia and cleared his throat. "These realms, the places in which you've been living, are known as Emanations. These planes of existence are, in fact, a type of Angel; the Sephirot. The worlds you interact with are manifestations of their will, made physical by their might."
Joseph stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape. "...kay…"
Iustitia sighed and leaned forward. "Put simply, for a Soul to manifest in these realms, they must first be approved by the Sephirot, and be compatible with its values. The only reason you're here at all is that Gevurah trusts your grandson, and Malkuth your grandfather. Otherwise, you would simply cease to exist here and reappear in Netzah, where you are currently living."
"Okay, so, what?" Joseph said, shrugging and smiling cautiously. "I need to schmooze with these Sephiroth guys if I want to do some sandboarding?"
If his irreverence annoyed the Angel, it did not show. "Sephirot, and that would not work. You can make friends with them all you like, but it has to be you who is compatible before you can exist here. Once you have reached this level of personal development, only then will you be permitted."
"Right, okay, so that's something to work on," said Joseph, clearing his throat. "So, uh, what does that have to do with me getting booted out of Heaven?"
"Have you heard of the Lionheart Organization?" Iustitia said, his tone upon saying the name becoming low, almost disgusted.
"Yeah, they're that activist group right? All the cute little animal people who're always shilling for intervention on Earth. Stop Sin at the Source is the catchphrase, I think."
"True, they are heavily involved in charity events and the like," said Iustitia, sneering as only a man with half a face could. "For good PR. But recently, things have taken a turn. You see, Netzah, the one realm you can presently occupy, has a very different set of rules to the rest of Heaven. As it is the first realm all Souls can access, Netzah has taken great pains to make the environment as accommodating as possible, giving Souls time to adjust to Heaven's culture and climate. This is accomplished through a sort of gestalt connection among the Souls, allowing frictive elements to be addressed and harmoniously resolved."
Joseph nodded, he'd felt something was a little 'off' since arriving here. [Hermit Purple] had been… restless. Drumming up images and sensations that, at the time, seemed to be nonsense. He'd initially chalked it up to 'holy shit I'm in actual fucking Heaven' jitters, but now the image of the lost cat and the mental map to an icecream parlor made perfect sense; he was inadvertently peeking into other people's lives.
"However, as an unintentional side-effect. Should enough animus be spread among the population towards a relative few, or individual, they could be excommunicated from Netzah. While this has happened in the past, it has usually been directed at historical figures with… less-than-modern sensibilities and acumen. Luckily for them, by the time they were mobbed they had access to other Emanations. Now, however, Lionheart is targeting new arrivals such as yourself for excommunication. As these souls cannot manifest anywhere else, upon their eviction they are, depending on the severity of their sins, sent to Limbo… or Hell."
Joseph slumped back into his chair, staring into the middle distance. He glanced down at the honey-brown liquid in his glass and brought it up, knocking it back in a single gulp. He winced at the unexpected alcohol burn, coughing lightly as the rich smoky flavor of lowland scotch filled his nostrils.
Iustitia merely watched him cough and squirm with wan interest. Joseph noticed and forced a smile. "S-sorry. I wasn't expecting there to be actual booze in Heaven."
"Would you like another?"
"Oh, well, if you think I need one…"
"You will."
Joseph wilted at this and humbly held out his glass, only to see it already filled, a double-shot this time. "(So weird…) it's looking that bad, huh?"
Iustitia produced a small file labeled 'Joseph Joestar'. "I won't bore you with the full roster, but the sins you'll be most lambasted for are as follows. Point number one: the siring of an illegitimate child AKA a bastard."
"Hey! Don't you call Josuke a bastard!" Joseph moved to stand up, only to be brusquely reseated by a wave of the angel's hand.
"Sit." Iustitia said, not looking up from the file. "Point number two: truancy and/or dereliction of duty as a father to said bastard." The angel put particular emphasis on that last word. "You left him in the care of his mother who, I remind you, was 21 at the time of his conception and you were… 62."
"Oh, is that a sin too?" Joseph grumbled, crossing his arms. "Must have missed that one at Sunday school."
"This is effectively an unpopularity contest, Joseph. Actual sins aren't as important as getting the people of Netzah to dislike you," Iustitia said, glancing up at the young-looking man, that ghoulish bare eye rolling in its cratered socket. "Speaking of, point number 3: you were heavily involved in the Japanese real estate bubble as a speculator in the 80s. That won't earn you any friends up here."
"What?! But it was my job!"
"A job that bankrupted hundreds of thousands when the bubble burst," said Iustitia, pithily. "Look, I'm just spelling out the case they have against you. You may have saved the world a couple times, but the total summation of your life is publicly available to anyone who wishes to read it. Lionheart knows this. They bet on it, in fact. So they will lead by poisoning the well. Instilling a negative opinion towards you so that anyone who cares to do their own research will have that at the forefront of their mind. As I have shown, and you've reinforced with your petulant, defensive attitude, it will not be hard at all to sway public opinion against you. Which brings us to our final strike. Point number 4: adultery."
Joseph winced, looking down at his scotch, fumbling with the glass. "...Yeah."
"You cheated on your wife of over twenty years at the time. The woman with whom you fathered a beautiful and good-natured daughter."
Joseph nodded, hangdog. "I know."
"Betrayed the trust of the woman who nursed you back to health from near-death. She never left your side, you know."
"I know!" Joseph barked, shooting to his feet and throwing the glass aside. "You don't think I know that!? It was a moment's weakness! I shouldn't have done it, but I did. And you know what? I can't even bring myself to regret it! Josuke's an outstanding young man!"
"No one claimed otherwise."
"I have a lot of regrets in my life! I regret I betrayed Susie's trust, and I regret I wasn't the best father to that boy, but I'll never regret bringing Josuke into the world! On that front I am entirely shameless!"
"Evidently," the Dominion said, waving his hand. "Sit."
Joseph was back in the chair, the glass in his hands and full once more, the Angel continued: "And while your wife and daughter forgave you, and you did right by your son… eventually… it's still a bad look and, more relevant to your fate should Lionheart succeed, an outright damnable offense. The meaning has been somewhat diluted over time, but the purpose of a marriage in the biblical sense is the unity of two under the eyes of God. You breached a sacred covenant between you, your wife, and the Almighty. Should you be ousted from Netzah, it won't be Limbo you fall into, but Hell itself, under the damnation clauses referring to betrayers, blasphemers, and adulterers. I'm afraid there's not much to be done on that front."
"So…" Joseph muttered, his eyes wide and harrowed. "What do I do?"
"Hope they give you a pass." Iustitia leaned back in his chair. "If not… get yourself one Hell of a PR team. Lionheart's gotten very good at this."
"So, what? You and your pals in the Justice Department aren't going to help me at all?!"
"I am helping you right now; warning you of their interest in you and essentially spelling out their case," said the Angel. "Netzah cannot alter this element of itself, and as they are in no direct violation of Celestial Law, Lionheart's actions are perfectly legal, if dubious in their motives. Your family had to pull some major strings for me to even look into this, so consider this warning a courtesy. You're welcome."
Joseph bit his lip, his hand squeezing into a fist so hard his knuckles popped. He stood up suddenly and slugged back the scotch. "Thanks a bunch."
With that, he stormed out of Iutitia's office.
"Good luck, kid," the dour Dominion muttered. "You never stood a chance."
Joseph stormed out of the office, brushing past Jotaro as he leaned on the wall.
"Well?" His grandson said, following after him. "What's the news?"
"Oh, nothing really," said Joseph, smiling like a man on death row. "I'm just going to Hell, is all."
"Lionheart's looking into you, then?" Jotaro said, not sounding at all surprised. "I figured. Great Gramps is a legend up here, getting you on the block would be some killer PR if they spin it right."
"And they're good spinners, I hear," Joseph grumbled, brushing past office workers.
"The best. But don't worry, if I figured it out, Uncle Speedwagon sure as shit has, too." Jotaro caught up to his grandfather. "He'll probably get Smokey and his squad on the case. I wish there was more I could do to help, it's just that Lionheart–"
"They're not breaking any laws, I know!" Joseph barked, coming to a stop in front of an elevator. "And I have! Harvey Dent back there made that point very clear."
"He hates that nickname."
They stepped into the elevator and Jotaro selected the floor, for it all looked like gobbledygook to Joseph. The descent was silent as a crypt, the weight of the disastrous news hung in the air like a choking miasma. Jotaro, for his part, looked unperturbed, a little miffed but that had always been his default expression. Joseph felt that familiar anxiety building up, somehow rivaling the dread drummed up by his 'courtesy' visit with Crispy. Awkward silences were still his bane, even Up Here.
"What's that guy's deal?" He blurted.
"What?"
"Sizzles up there," said Joseph, clapping a hand over half his face. "Like, I'd get it if it was a scar, but that guy's still smoking! That can't be healthy!"
Jotaro sighed and rolled his eyes. "It happened during The Fall, when a third of the Heavenly Host rebelled against God, led by Lucifer."
Joseph nodded, he knew all that from church and Sunday school, or rather, he knew the bible's version. He was beginning to understand more and more that just about every religion was right about at least some things, and wrong or flat out ignorant of others. "So, Lucifer did that to him?"
"Ha!" Jotaro scoffed. "There wouldn't be anything left if Lucifer took a swing. No, Iustitia is just a Dominion, a less powerful kind of Angel. He got that from a Seraphim named Unitatis, one of the more powerful warriors of Lucifer's host. He meant to take Ori Maestus for himself to secure the rebellion's source of Seraphim steel."
"Just him?"
"His armies engaged with the local garrison while he went for the city." Jotaro said, grimly. "Unitatis singlehandedly tore through the defenses and almost breached the inner sanctum, but Iustitia stood in his way. He was completely outmatched, both in power and skill, but every time Unitatis thought he beat him, or killed him, he got right back up. Iutitia held him up long enough for Gabriel's army to flank his forces, the Archangel subduing Unitatis himself. The wounds Iustitia earned that day will never heal, never stop burning. He won't let them."
Joseph grimaced and turned back to the featureless steel door of the elevator, now preferring the silence.
The cab ferried them back out into the city, depositing them on the gray, drab sidewalk populated by gray, drab people. Joseph walked alongside his grandson, deep in thought. What would he do? What could he do? So far Heaven seemed like a great place, obviously, but there were definitely times he felt like he was being judged. It's not hard to imagine that the holier than thou types would wind up here, but what just God would allow a cabal of Karens to deliberately create mobs to purge the 'impure' after they'd been let in? Surely this must all be a misunderstanding?
'Would the Cardinal Virtue of Justice summon you here over a misunderstanding?' He thought, bitterly. 'A joke, then? Hazing the new guy? Yeah right! You could sit that crispy bastard opposite Richard Pryor and Robin Willaims and he'd barely crack a smile! What do I do? Call Smokey, like Jotaro said? Yeah, he's good with this PR stuff! Maybe start a charity? Donate to some 'save the orphans' thing! Ha! Yeah! Save the Orphans to Save My Ass! …oh shit.''
"Hey," grunted Jotaro. "You hungry?"
Joseph hadn't felt hunger since he'd gotten here, only eating when he felt like it. Funnily enough, despite not feeling hungry, every time he ate it felt as though he'd been days without food and had just then sated himself. It made every meal a feast.
"Yeah, I could eat."
They walked along with the crowds through the streets of Ori Maestus, the most organized throng Joseph had ever seen. They entered the courtyard of a largish office complex and silently made their selection from the vendors there. Joseph absent-mindedly piled caramelized onions onto his hotdog under the watchful, bespectacled gaze of the vendor. Even the roadside foodcart people in this realm dressed like lawyers! When he was done, he paid and set off after his grandson down the street. He ate his hotdog without much enthusiasm. It was, of course, delicious, but his mind wandered, distractedly flitting between different lines of thought. The world flowed past him in a whirl of grays and blacks, the scenery bleeding together. A splash of color drew his eye, bright red and stark white. Joseph stopped in his tracks and looked down a back alley.
"What's this?" Joseph murmured.
On the drab concrete wall was an enormous mural of a beautiful young woman with alabaster skin standing out of an abyssal void, wreathed in a flaming inferno that seemed to merge together into the flowing crimson dress draped across her svelte figure. Her long, flowing blonde hair whirled and flowed with the flames down near her waist before coalescing into shimmering platinum with streaks of gold over her back and shoulders. Her left hand was reaching desperately towards a distant point of holy light surrounded by shining silver clouds, while her right hand lay by her side, a scrabble of gnarled, taloned hands fastened about her wrist, dress, and ankles, holding her down.
"...Who is this?" He said, the painting exerting a queer sort of magnetism on him.
What struck Joseph most was her expression, her large blood-red eyes were soft and caring, but set and determined despite the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, turning to steam as they rolled across the glowing red circles there. Upon closer examination, he could see her own delicate hand grasping the wrist of the demonic hand with a deathgrip on her, pulling it up as it tried to pull her down.
"Charlotte Morningstar," Jotaro rumbled over his shoulder. "Daughter of Lucifer and Lillith, the Princess of Hell."
"Beautiful…" Joseph muttered under his breath.
"Down, gramps," Jotaro snorted. "She's way outta your league."
"What? No!" Joseph gestured at the mural in general. "It's beautiful, the mural, I mean! The paintwork is exquisite. What's this all about anyway? Why's there a mural of the Princess of Hell in Heaven?"
"She's gained a bit of popularity up here. See, she's opened a Hotel in Hell, well, it's more like a rehab clinic but the way she sees it you check into a hotel and leave, right?"
"A rehab clinic?"
Jotaro nodded, pointing to the demonic hand. "She wants to rehabilitate Sinners so they can move on to Heaven. Needless to say this hasn't endeared her to the population of the damned pit, but she's not giving up. Up here, people initially wrote her off as either a scheming chip off her old man's block, or a hopelessly naive rube. But then…"
"She Saved someone!?" Joseph exclaimed. "That's possible?"
Jotaro gestured 'so-so'. "Everyone's expectations were on the floor, but then she actually made progress. She turned just about the worst sonuvabitch into something resembling a human being."
"Anyone we know?" Joseph scoffed, jokingly.
Jotaro frowned and straightened his back. "Classified."
Joseph did a small double-take and turned to look at his grandson. "What, really? Who?"
Jotaro said nothing, Joseph sucked his teeth in frustration and turned back to mural, scrutinizing the beautiful young woman's face, the noble determination in her eyes contrasting heartbreakingly with her crestfallen expression and steaming tears. On impulse he reached out and touched it, his fingertips buzzing as though with static. [Hermit Purple] involuntarily appeared with a flash and crackle, weaving up the wall like a creeping vine. Joseph closed his eyes, information flowing into him from the wall, images and sensations.
"I was wrong before," Joseph droned, his voice low and flat. "About the paintwork. It's not paint…"
"Gramps?" Jotaro said, a glimmer of concern in his voice. "What're you doing?"
"Not paint," repeated Joseph, his eyes half-lidded, dreamlike. "It's… permanent. It's part of the building. No one painted it, it's just here, part of the realm…"
Joseph jolted and grunted, his brow furrowing, causing Jotaro to start. "Gramps!"
Joseph couldn't hear him, he was somewhere else now. Thoughts, feelings, images flashed in his mind, too fast to make sense of. Sorrow, heartbreak, love, friendship, all blurred together. Insecurity, the pain of forcing a smile, doubt. Failure and pain.
"Charlie…" Joseph slurred. "Don't… don't give up."
"Joseph!" Jotaro cried, stepping forward and grabbing his grandfather by the shoulders. "Snap out of it!"
The vines of [Hermit Purple] phased into the wall, its thorns morphing into strange glowing buds. Joseph jolted again. Behind Charlie, behind the mural, was a vast city, an endless city. It glowed with a lurid red light, casting the eldritch, unnatural shapes of the buildings in a ghastly contrast to the abyssal black skyline, light seemingly seeping up from the ground itself. Overhead was a gargantuan glowing pentagram, pulsing like a loathsome streetlight in the eternal night. He flew backwards at immense speed, the city, or planet, or realm or whatever it was, now a throbbing red carbuncle floating in the void before him. A pair of dainty alabaster hands extended from the blackness and encircled the red mass, cradled as one might an injured kitten or baby bird, as though that vile thing was something delicate and cherished.
"Do they…" Joseph said, flatly. "Do we deserve it?"
Charlie faded into view, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pulled it close to her chest, illuminated by its light. A shape appeared behind her, the outline of a tall, thin figure, a tophat atop his head. A dozen eyes of shifting colors glared out of the darkness and locked with his, within them such malice and malevolence that Joseph felt his blood turn to ice. A pair of ghoulish hands crept up and over Charlie's svelte shoulders, grasping them in a manner that was both possessive and protective. More eyes sprouted from the abyss upon the vague form of many wings, shapes and forms that hurt to see assaulted his sanity writhed between them.
"M̴̳̯̯͒́ ̴̟̯̞͎̗̹͓̘͔̅̈́͜I̵̡̳̻͓̮͔̽̅̈́̆̈͑ ̸͓̲͖̓̽͑̐̑̉̋͠Ń̸̥̞̺̎̏̔̽ͅ ̵̢̻̬̦͖̎̈͑͊̍̊̀̔Ĕ̷̛͍̣̦̦̼̼͔̳͉̹͐̀͋̀̑͛͝ͅ"
"She's… not… yours…" Joseph growled. "She's not you!"
"Snap out of it, Old Man!" Jotaro was trying in vain to shake his grandfather out of his felt a jolt surge through him, images and sensations flooding his unprepared mind, causing him to stumble back. "Ungh! What the–?!"
The buds on the Stand stirred, splitting down the sides, blossoming. Joseph moaned in horror as something stirred behind the King and Princess of Hell, something in the blackness. No… it was the blackness, the Abyss, it was… alive? Without eyes he felt it stare, without shape it moved, and without a mouth it spoke.
"̶S̷̮͝ ̸͈̅O̷̞͐ ̴̞̏O̷͈͝ ̶̭̈N̷͖͋ ̶̢̉,̶̞͝ ̶̬̔ ̴͙͂M̵͈̕ ̸͙̄Y̶̺̒ ̷͖̕D̴̤͝ ̴̮̿A̶̮̐ ̸͉́Ṙ̵̼ ̵̺̊L̶̤̿ ̷̤͗Į̸̉ ̵͙͠N̶̖̊ ̴͖͝G̵̙̕ ̸̹͊S̵͚̈́ ̶͖̈́.̶̼̂ ̴͇́ ̵̟̕I̷̞̎ ̵͈̈T̴̪̕ ̵͎͛ ̵̡͂W̶̜̾ ̴̲́I̵͕̐ ̴̯̂L̵͚̔ ̴̨̇Ḽ̷͒ ̶͓̇ ̴̢͂Ȃ̶̼ ̸̩̏L̵̜̄ ̷̈́͜Ĺ̵͖ ̸͓͘ ̶̫͌B̶̹͛ ̶͈̄É̷̝ ̶̝̇ ̴̱̀Ọ̵̓ ̵͍̕Ṿ̵̈ ̸̻̒Ė̷ͅ ̸͍͒R̷̟̆ ̴̦̄ ̶̲̽S̵̭͠ ̴̝͝O̸̗̐ ̴͇̕Ő̷̼ ̵̢͋N̴͇̊ ̵͇̾.̸̙͊ ̸̛̲ ̵̖͋Y̸̥͝ ̴͙̾Ǒ̷͙ ̶̡́U̵̜̾ ̷̨̇R̴̢̊ ̴͖͝ ̴̰͐P̵̱̎ ̵̢̈Ả̴͔ ̴͎̌I̶͖̚ ̶̮̔N̵̝̈́ ̷̥̈́ ̸̬͂W̵̺͆ ̵̟̏Ị̷́ ̶̺̐L̸̛̻ ̵̰̀L̷͍͆ ̸̯̀ ̵̩͋F̵̳͌ ̵̭̕Ȋ̵̦ ̴̖̆Ń̷̯ ̶̲́A̸͖͑ ̵̱̈L̵̙̊ ̸̭̔L̷͍͒ ̷̙͋Ẏ̸͈ ̷̜͝ ̵̬̒E̷̗̎ ̵̮̿N̷͇̓ ̴̜͐D̷̯̎ ̶̺̆.̶̤̌
The blossoms on [Hermit Purple] snapped open into black, malevolent flowers, their shining petals serrated like obsidian sawblades. The flower's stigmas opened into innumerable glowing red eyes crying tears of bubbling pitch. Joseph grit his teeth and tried to scream, finding himself quite unable. The Abyss lurched toward him, crawling through itself, its bulk consuming Lucifer and Charlie like a tidal wave of ichor. Joseph wanted to run, to scream, to soil himself, anything, but was completely transfixed. The horrible weight of nothing crashed down upon him, the sureness of his annihilation almost comforting despite the terror.
"Not yet, Mr. Joestar," said a gruff, female voice. "Soon. But not yet."
A slender, delicate hand set on his shoulder, its flesh and fingers as unyielding as warm marble, spinning him about with a tug. Joseph flinched away as he was brought face-to-waist with an enormous, robed Angel. He looked up into the shadowy blackness of her hooded face, the only feature discernable a pair of long ibex horns sprouting from the darkness.
"Who…?" Joseph asked despite somehow knowing: Gevurah, the Emanation of Judgment, the Angel that was also this realm.
"You will fight, you will lose," she said, her voice terse and hard. "But that's not the end. You've a place here yet, you must simply find it first."
"I… I don't understand."
Gevurah nodded, or seemed to. "No one can forgive you… only you… and God."
"Do you people practice being vague?" Joseph grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Gevurah leaned over and shoved her shadowed face in his, her aura hot and electric, causing him to flinch back, terrified. "Don't roll your eyes, Joseph. It's rude."
With that she reached out with a sword in hand, tapping him on the forehead with the flat of the blade. "Your access has been revoked. Until next time."
Joseph felt the ground drop out from under him, swirling downwards as though circling a drain. He opened his mouth and screamed as he thrashed against the invisible current, his eyes squeezed shut. It was only when he felt himself come to a stop did he open his eyes. He was back home, in Netzah, in the tastefully appointed living room of his and Suzy-Q's estate. He gasped and panted, patting himself, making sure he was all there. Sweat beaded and rolled down his pallid face, his heart thudding in his chest as though it wanted to climb out his throat. Did all that really happen? Is this even happening? Would he wake up in the nursing home again, demented and dying?
"JoJo?" A sweet, musical voice came from behind him. "Oh, JoJo, you're home."
He spun around to see Suzy-Q, sitting in a rocking chair, knitting needles in her hands and a perplexed expression on her exquisite face. "Oh, Joseph, what's wrong, love? You look like you've caught your death of fright!"
Joseph calmed his breathing and shakily got to his feet, forcing a wan, tight smile. "D-do I? Oh, it's nothing, just, uh, when those Emanations decide they're sick of you they can be, uh, abrupt."
Suzy-Q eyed him for a bit in that way that told him she knew something was wrong, before giggling and playfully waving at him. "Oh, JoJo! Were you teasing the Angels again?"
"More like sticking my nose where it doesn't belong," said Joseph, the sound of Suzy's laugh was a balm for his battered soul. "I gotta be more careful what I touch."
"Oh my, yes! I swear, some of these Angels can be such fuddy-duddies! Why, this one time, my friend Agnes, she–" Suzy was cut off as Joseph rushed over and pulled her into a tight hug. "O-oh? JoJo? Are you sure everything's alright?"
"Yeah," he muttered, quietly. "It's just… I love you. You know that, right? I love you so, so much. Always have, always will."
"Of course I know that!" Suzy said, pushing away enough to look him in the eyes, her hand drifting up to his chiseled cheek. "JoJo, are you sure everything's alright? You're sweating."
Joseph sighed and nodded, taking her hands in his. "Just know, no matter what happens, I'll always love you, Suzy-Q. And I'll always be with you, e-even when I'm… when I'm…"
"JoJo!" Suzy gasped. "You're crying! JoJo, what's wrong? Please, tell me!"
Joseph wiped his eyes and sniffled, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Suzy. For everything."
With that he broke away and stormed out of the room, eyes set and determined. Suzy called after him, her tone plaintive and a little frightened. "Joseph! What's going on? Where are you going?"
"Gonna circle the wagons, Suzy," he called back. "I'm going to Smokey's."
"I–" She began, trailing off at the sound of a door slamming shut. "JoJo…"
