Alex was a simple kid. Sort of. He got up at around 9 AM, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, a had a shower. He occasionally would stop and 'chat' with the automatons (though they are rather bad at holding a conversation outside of 'Awaiting command' and 'Yes sir'), and he liked to go down to the forge to breathe life into some new contraption he'd thought of days, or even hours, earlier. Which is what he was going to do now.
Alex enjoyed making things, and one of the most common things he made were robots. These robots, which he refuses to call anything other than automatons, tend to only serve one purpose, such as combat, cleaning up, moving heavy equipment, or simply finding things that he has misplaced.
Now, most people would probably define Alex's life as rather quiet. But, when your home is a realm where 'time' is a rather...debatable concept, things tend to be...not that. The most common reason being that people tend to show up uninvited, usually from different points in time, and make a mess of the place in the process. Which is why he was not surprised to find a couple of automatons cleaning up some unfortunately placed equipment and gear in the forge, most notably.
Knowing immediately what had happened, he made his way towards the door to The Meeting Place, the largest, though technically non-existent room in his home, though it's not so much a 'room' as a 'place'. He had two combat automatons come with him, as 'guests' tended to be rather aggressive and ask questions when they see him for the first time. He had the automatons stand by the door, and opened it.
The first thing Alex saw was a wall of a man, standing at least 6 feet tall and more muscles than he thought a person could have. Then again, most people he saw didn't really have that much muscle to begin with, so that probably shouldn't be too shocking to him. Behind the man, there was a large group, all dressed rather bizarrely, and all looking at him, and he could already feel the barrage of questions that he was about to be sent in his general direction.
"Before any of you ask me anything, why don't you all come in and I can prepare something? You all seem rather tense and I know an excellent tea recipe to fix that, or at least help it a little." He said, trying to weather the storm of curiosity before him.
It didn't work.
He was bombarded with questions, and almost all of them were some variation of "where are we?"
Alex sighed, already noticing the automatons preparing some food and drink, and was thankful for their 'Guest Routine' that he had programmed into them. This was going to be a long day.
...
About 10 minutes later, the food was ready, Alex's 'guests' having already either taken a seat at the long table that was situated only a room away from the door of The Meeting Place, and prepared to answer questions that he had answered a hundred times before.
"Where are we? You refused to answer earlier, so answer now!" one of them said, a large, blonde man that was as big as the first person he saw earlier, Jonathan. He couldn't recall ever getting his name, though.
"You are in my home. It is a place beyond normal time constraints, and as a result I tend to get many different guests from across time. These guests usually have either died or in some way faced tragedy, though death is the more common variant."
"Wait, so we're all dead? I don't remember dying!" Someone else spoke, a teenage boy with an orange headband, who looked probably only a year or two older than Alex. At this, a few of the others at the table looked rather uncomfortable, most noticeably the blonde boy with odd circles in his hair, whom he had learned (via listening to one of their conversations) was named Giorno, the man wearing a dotted suit named Bruno, and the one with odd cap named Mista. If anyone else had felt uncomfortable with his question, they hid it rather well.
"No, not necessarily, though forgetting your death is also pretty common. If you notice any unusual scars, that would most likely be what caused you to die, unless you died of something like internal bleeding or a heart attack." Alex replied, repeating the answer to the questions he had been most commonly asked over the...years? Maybe? He was never quite sure how long he had actually been in his home.
"Ok, well how come we can't use our stands here?" Asked a man with pink, dotted hair, and wearing a pink shirt with tears in it.
"A...what?" Alex asked, not knowing what he meant.
"Our stands. Creations of one's spiritual energy, usually used for combat." Another teen said, this one also blonde, and whose shirt bore spherical holes, as if it was in the design of it.
"Oh! Spiritual energy? Yeah, that...doesn't work well here. In most places, anyway. The Dampener makes sure of that, though The Meeting Place is where its effects are the strongest. You can probably use them here, but they will most likely be severely weaker than normal." Alex said, and as he did so, he noticed several different figures appear behind various figures, and assumed these were their "stands". They all seemed to relax at the fact that they could use their abilities now, and then immediately tense up once they then realized that so could the people they were trying to attack earlier. One in particular however, Jonathan, seemed rather concerned at the sudden doubling of figures in the room, especially with how bizarre they looked, even compared to the people they appeared next to.
"Now, before any of you start trying to murder each other, as you were earlier, you should-" Alex tried to finish, only to be interrupted by the teenage boy with the headband.
"Hey, how come we couldn't use them earlier?" he asked, a suspicious look suddenly on his face.
"Well, in this realm, abilities that are related to the user's soul are greatly dampened, to the point where in some locations, such as The Meeting Place, they cannot be used at all. Since your 'stands' are manifestations of your spiritual essence, a.k.a your soul, you couldn't use them. In fact, there is really only one place that you can use these abilities at full strength." Alex responded, slightly hesitant to tell them about that location, especially due to some of their very obvious aggressiveness towards each other.
"And where is that?" the boy asked, getting slightly impatient.
"I will show you that later. Now, can we please eat now? The food's starting to get cold." Alex asked.
Most of them, despite having a metric ton of questions each, decided that, yes, cold food is bad, and withheld their questions until after they finished eating.