A l'intérieur de "Silver Tower", 1988
Goddammit. This thing is persistent...
Polnareff, back still on Avdol's, shivers a bit as his eyes dart to the corners of the room. The anticipation shakes his bones despite the blistering heat from Magician's Red. For the last few minutes, the enemy Stand has been harrying them with distant, prodding slashes, just out of reach of Silver Chariot to retaliate and skewer it. Even against repeated Crossfire Hurricanes, the dastardly water droplet seems to slip through cracks in the floor each time.
"Avdol, this thing is-"
"I know, Polnareff. Don't give it the satisfaction of voicing it."
...It has us pinned in. The Stand, with how remote it is and how little stamina it seems to use...it's just trying to outlast us and hold us in place until we make a mistake. It knows we have enough firepower to hold it at bay in a pure fight...so now it's just keeping us from picking our position...
Out of the corner of his eye, Polnareff again spots a gleaming claw approaching through the wreath of flames surround them.
"Six o'clock!" As the Frenchman shouts, Avdol instinctively breaks their back-to-back stance. Magician's Red hovers behind, readying another blast, while SIlver Chariot zips forward, ready to parry. The glint of metal sparks against the force of the slash, holding the claw at bay just long enough for a Crossfire Hurricane to slam into it, dispersing it into droplets that scatter between the cracks of the floor below.
Dammit. Again...
Kicking off the floor and rolling to Avdol, Polnareff slams his back against his Egyptian friend once more.
"Still on your feet, my lily white friend?"
"It'll take more than that to wear down my edge, Muhammed Avdol." Polnareff grins, a thumbs up held high by his cheek for a moment before his hand massages his forearm.
Pain ripples from his shoulder down to his fingertips. The force of the blow was intense, and he likely would've broken his arm from the strain if Avdol hadn't been in sync, blasting it away. Another blow like that and...
Another thing catches Polnareff's eye, reflected in Silver Chariot's sheen. This time, Avdol speaks up,
"Is that...Hierophant Green? Kakyoin must have finished with the other floors."
"If this thing's still moving...then-"
"Above us, it seems. But-" Avdol spins, raising a foot and planting it on Polnareff's back.
"What the-" Polnareff turns as he's kicked full force, rolling into a tumble as Avdol clumsily kicks himself back. In the long second of him falling, he catches sight of Hierophant Green...firing an Emerald Splash directly at where they were standing. Luckily, the careening stones miss him entirely with Avdol's kick, and even Avdol is unscathed as the gems weave between his legs as he falls back.
"Oi, Kakyoin, what the hel-" Polnareff starts to shout at the Stand, before being interrupted by an ear rending screech of shredded metal and concrete. As the emeralds collide with the metal framed concrete where they were standing, the floor below explodes upwards, the enemy Stand rending the spot apart with a large three pronged slash.
Ah. The damn thing had us conditioned to stay put. Good catch Kakyoin! We would've been...
"Polnareff, keep moving! We must make this Stand choose one of us to stop, we need to get to the top and stop the user!" Avdol shuffles to his feet, putting his hands up in a familiar sign as Magician's Red roars from the flames. Smaller jets of flame lash against pillars, floor, and ceiling as he dashes towards the stairwell.
"Right!" Silver Chariot scoops up Polnareff, flying up just a bit before tossing him to the ceiling, where a previously slashed hole gives him some leeway to slink through.
Hierophant Green can give us covering fire...or slip away first.
On the Sixth Floor of Silver Tower, Finding a Safe Spot to Focus
Despite having the longest range out of all their Stands, Kakyoin always prefers to be a bit closer to his Stand than he needs to be. He likes to think it helps him stay focused, so that he doesn't become too narrow-sighted on what his Stand sees. But still, he knows why. He wants to be the extra set of eyes for Hierophant Green. To cover for his secret, ever-present companion.
Hm. Right here should do.
He settles his back against a wall, furniture stowed to the left and right of him. Even if the claw changed course, he'd have time to tuck away in between a few chairs or tables, hopefully. The door in front of him is cracked, just enough so he can hear anyone coming. If Mr. Joestar finally gets here, that'll be even more reassuring.
Now...back to it.
Shutting his eyes and focusing again, he sees the inferno fade on the much higher floor as Avdol dashes up the stairwell. Hierophant Green has coiled himself around some pillars across several floors, its main body dangling a ways off from any structure. If this thing functions off of vibrations and sound, it'll be hard to pin down his Stand. He was lucky to catch the enemy rearing up for that ambush, and equally lucky that Avdol saw the Emerald Splash coming.
They seem to have gotten my message. If we are all heading to the top, N'doul must know we've found out his location. He'll try and stop as many of us as possible...
Hierophant Green snakes its way up another floor, using the side of the building to weave between tarps and framework. The Dubai skyline looks peaceful compared to the roiling flames and shredded construction inside the tower.
Looking in as the Stand coils itself around an interior pillar, Kakyoin sees Polnareff kick off another pillar on the far end, barely grabbing the floor above as the claw cleaves through, barely missing. Avdol stops at the stairs, sending a ripple of flame out again.
The Stand's learned about the fire it seems. It doesn't seem disoriented at all...
Launching an Emerald Splash at a particular crack in the wall a few feet from Avdol first, Hierophant Green slinks up another floor. Another loud screech rings out as the wall and gems are rent asunder. As predicted, Avdol scrambles up the stairs to the next floor, flashing a thumbs up to Kakyoin's Stand.
I suppose it'll be after me next. It's hard to sneak up on them when I'm running interference.
Suddenly, back on the 6th floor, Kakyoin hears a loud crash of glass fairly close to him. He sits still, listening at the footsteps. One...two...three...four...
Two people crashing through the window?
He listens more intently, his focus drifting away from Hierophant Green as it weaves between move supports to race to the top. Not too far from him, the steps are heavy, with a wet slosh as each footfall lands. They seem to fan out, poking around the floor with deliberate, slow steps.
...Reinforcements? They don't sound like Speedwagon agents, not from the sounds. It...hm.
Tenting his fingers under his chin, Kakyoin wracks his brain for ideas. As his concentration shifts, he feels a sharp sting on his cheek. Blood trickles down from a slash just under his eye, rolling down his cheek into a bead. Looking back through his Stand, he finds Hierophant Green barely dodging a blow from the aqueous hand. In his inattention, the claw had caught up to him, itself dodging between his Stand's web of strands and landing a glancing blow. If it had hit, he'd likely have three different sections of skull to deal with.
Still, his focus is pulled back to the 6th floor, as a gurgling, rancid voice echoes out.
"I smell blood." The two sets of footsteps stop for a moment, the sound of beastly sniffing before they start to slowly trudge towards Kakyoin's side room.
Vampires? Meant to be a trap, I assume...
Still, his vision flickers between the here and now and Hierophant Green's eyes. The claw lunges again, right at the Stand's face, cutting through the defensive wall of emeralds thrown its way. Thankfully, at the last moment, the searing heat of a Crossfire Hurricane scorches past and vaporizes the claw.
Here's my chance!
Hierophant Green turns to face a grinning Avdol, holding out a thumbs up to mirror his friend's trademark pose.
"Go, Kakyoin! You'll get there quicker than us. We'll cover you, this time!" Avdol shouts before diving down the stairs again, his voice growing distant as he rallies Polnareff.
Soon enough, as Hierophant Green scales another floor, he hears the footsteps skulk ever closer.
I have to run, buy some time. If I can restrain N'doul, the others can take over while I bring Hierophant Green back...though, Mr. Joestar should have caught up by now. I wonder if-
His thought is cut short by a rush of adrenaline, the gurgling of whatever is outside his door gaining speed. They definitely know where he is now. Lashing out a foot, he kicks the door shut, though with the stories of a vampire's strength Kakyoin figures it won't do much. Even a second is valuable, though, as his eyes search the room despite the relative darkness.
Hm...this will have to work.
The door crunches as an impact nearly blows a hole in the middle. The follow up blow will likely send a storm of splinters into the room.
With a hurried huff of resolution, Kakyoin picks up a nearby metal chair and flings it at the drywall to one side. As he predicted, it half embeds itself through the cheap material, with footsteps moving to intercept.
Spinning on his heel, he picks up the nearest tool, a flimsy putty knife, and flings himself to the opposite wall, busting through it with all his body weight in the tackle. Covered in a fine white powder and barely on his feet, he hears the creatures behind him rumble with wet tones.
"Kakyoin. KAKYOIN."
I have about fifteen feet to work with, they likely have better sight in the dark, and I have...this thing.
He momentarily examines the spatula like tool in his hand.
...Seems I'm playing chess without the tools to do so.
Kakyoin kicks off into a sprint, hoping to gain a bit of distance to gather his thoughts. Hierophant Green should be clear for a bit to ascend without much guidance. He just has to survive...
Chess, hm? Let's see if I can play the fool for a bit.
Chained to a Pillar, 25 Days to Save Holly
Joseph's breath raggedly pours out of his chest, the chain digging in him deeper. Was this fourth, fifth round of nails and screws thrown his way? Blood seeps into his shirt from the unblocked shots, though thankfully he's been able to repel all the shrapnel to the vital areas. The chain, too, has provided its share of cover, with screws and nails magnetized to the links. In a way, the very thing tying him here has saved him from a lot of injuries. Or worse, a lung puncture.
He steadies himself, calming his breath and focusing Hamon. His feet wiggle a bit, and his arms theatrically push against the ever increasing tightness of the chain links.
C'mon, take the bait. You won't kill me like that.
Even still, he feels Hermit Purple growing faint in strength. Even if she got close enough, Joseph doubts his ability to do more than lightly caress her neck, nevertheless strangle her unconscious. He just needs time-
"I underestimated you, old man. With how easy I caught you, you sure refuse to die like the shitstain you are." Her voice is dripping venom as she kicks the worklight to the side, freeing up Joseph's eyes from the blindness. His pupils struggle to adjust as he finally reopens his eyes. Darting his eyes down a bit first, he finally meets a stare from the mystery woman.
Her eyes, they radiate violence. Reverence for a distant master. In short, she looks far worse than any vampire or Pillarman. She has no schemes, no moral conundrums. Her eyes read a simple passage, "Killing will bring glory and praise."
Joseph can't help but chuckle.
"What are you laughing at, you rat-faced shit for brains?" The woman's face contorts with frustration and anger. She's used to far easier kills.
"Hahaha!" His laugh peters out. He'd wipe a tear from his eye if had a spare hand. "...That look, it sealed the deal."
"What?"
"I no longer see you as a woman." Not a dig at her appearance, her persona; but rather, an affirmation. Women, after all, are his weakness, his hesitation. He remembers the violent look behind Suzi Q's eyes back in his mother's complex. That was one inseparable from his soft spot. He couldn't hurt what had a person behind it.
But her. DIO has rotted her to the core. Twisted the poor girl into murder and devotion. Even with his silver tongue, Joseph has no doubt in his mind that she won't listen to a word he'll say to convince her to stand down. Some people's loyalty is just too strong to quench with just words alone.
"Quit your prattling. I don't care how you see me. All I care about is the praises I'll get from Master DIO when I bring him your bleeding stump of a head." She rustles her hand in her pocket, bringing out a stack of fine needles clenched tight. Her grip indicates just how much force those would have if she released them towards him...
But he needs just a bit more time.
"Tell me. What about this DIO has you so loyal to him? An attractive lady like yourself, what does DIO offer over us, hm?" Play to her interest. Just a bit longer...
"You? YOU? You don't stand a whimpering, sputtering candle to the glory of DIO!"
Bingo. Let's see if I can learn anything while I'm here.
The chain clenches tighter around Joseph's chest, nearly squelching his breath entirely. Still, he puffs his chest with what strength he has. He needs that Hamon.
"Really? I don't know a thing about him. What makes him so wonderful, hm?" His sly smile trembles a bit from the pain. If he had to bet, a few ribs just cracked talking.
In the distance, far from either of their focuses but still close to the front door, a limousine pulls up. Four pairs of feet clamber out, with two leaping up towards the 6th floor...
END of INTERLUDE 15