This is a collaboration between me and Eskarina.


Florida, 2011

Some associated the color green with good luck, but for Jolyne, that couldn't be further from the case. When did her days become miserable? She would say it started when she moved to the green swamps of Florida. When did Romeo run over the man whose murder she was in jail for? The same day she dyed parts of her hair green. Life, it seemed, from the very beginning just kept throwing a barrage of misfortunes at her... And why was that? She didn't need to look in the mirror to tell you that the eyes she viewed the world with were also green. Well, F.F. was very green too, but she was the exception to the rule.

All things considered, she was a bit apprehensive when she found herself in the green swamps by Green Dolphin Street Prison, holding a green demon baby in her arms.

But no—hadn't good things happened to her too since she had entered the prison? She had been made privy to the true nature of her scumbag boyfriend, she attained a Stand (she supposed that was a good thing), and most importantly, she finally understood her old man for the first time after all these years. Her dad loved her and always had; she'd learned that walking out of her life was only ever with the intention of trying to protect her. A bad plan, but what mattered was that he never stopped caring about her. She could also count her meeting with Hermes, F.F, Emporio, Weather Report, and she supposed Anasui on her lucky stars too.

But of course, the bad things just kept piling up, one after another.

She had had so much ill luck ever since she'd entered the prison. Damn, she didn't know how she was still alive. It had all been too much lately. She knew she still had more left to do and the risks to her own life were only going to be greater, but she didn't care if it meant saving her dad. Let them call it Joestar courage, or whatever they wanted, but if she had to beat the priest to pieces along with all his underlings, she would do it.

"Jolyne, my sweet darling, we've almost reached where that damn priest is. After we defeat him, we should find another priest to officiate our..." She only half listened to Anasui, lost in thought, but she didn't think she was missing anything important anyway.

There was a sudden strangeness to their environment. The cold was slightly different from the wet cold of the swamp, which was usually more humid. This chill was different, the kind that got under the spine and did not leave until you took a long hot shower. It took her a moment to realize that it was not the cool temperature, but a feeling of fear that had made her skin crawl.

Was she feeling the power of a Stand? Even Anasui, who didn't seem to be very good at reading situations well, was silent. She might not have been involved with Stands for long, but she had certainly encountered quite a few. But none looked like this, if it was even a Stand. Whatever it was, if Jolyne had learned anything, it was that the best way to defeat a Stand was to attack its user. Few abilities could allow the user to resist a kick in the balls.

The green baby clung to her tightly in her arms, actually looking scared. It had long stopped nibbling on her prison uniform. She put it down gently on the floor of the airboat, a little reluctant to part from its warm body heat. If she was going to have to fight, it was better to have her hands free. Whispers resounded through the swamp, seeming very out of place. At first, she thought she had misheard, but then she heard them again. It was almost as if someone was chanting 'Joestar' around the area. When Anasui said 'What the hell is a Joestar?', she confirmed that her mind wasn't just playing tricks on her.

A wall of mist began to rise from the swamp's water, making it increasingly difficult to see. They weren't left with much choice but to approach the shore. There was no point in running away if the enemy intended to pursue them anyway. The sound of the voice calling for Jolyne grew nearer. It came from various locations, though they could hear something move closer and closer to where they stood.

"You seem more delicious than that ripe old fart." The voice, seeming to belong to a male, was so close it appeared to be whispering right into her ear. "A true Joestar, unlike that little girl who only carried the name. Just one look at you and I know you'll be delectable."

Jolyne's breath hitched. She was sure that whoever it was, she wasn't only imagining the sensation of him behind her, for something had actually touched her back. She whipped her head around, but there was no one there.

"Isn't it fortunate that the State has no care for the lives of its prisoners? Someone should have told me sooner that I would have so much material on hand."

Confused-looking prisoners began to emerge from the mist, carrying bats, kitchen knives, chains, and other common objects you'd find lying around within prison facilities. Some of them had visible bullet wounds and other forms of deadly injury on them. Before either of them could analyse the ability, the new hoard of prisoners were already on Anasui. Jolyne rapidly scanned the faces of the assailants, figuring that one of them must be the stand user, but she didn't recognize any of them.

Amidst the crowd, one distinct person approached them at a slower pace. It was a young man who not only lacked a prison uniform but was quite elegantly dressed too. He was tall, blond, and quite handsome. It would have been even more so if not for the way he looked at Jolyne with his cold blue eyes. Men had gazed upon her lustfully before, but there was something different, although equally unsettling, about his gaze.

"Who the hell are you?" Jolyne shouted at him, having lost any patience for politeness.

"I should have guessed that you'd be attractive," he said, almost to himself, but loud enough for Anasui to hear, evoking a protest while he fought off the other prisoners' attacks. "Jolyne, am I correct? Of course, I am. You're unmistakably a Joestar."

"Are you one of Pucci's henchmen?" Jolyne asked him as she got into a fighting stance, clenching her hand into fists.

"A henchman? No, maybe an ally. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Donatello Versus." He approached her calmly, hands in his pockets. "I know they haven't told you much about your family, but I'm the son of the man who stood above Pucci. Your dad killed him, by the way." He smiled at her, the pointed canines of his teeth becoming very prominent. "Not that it matters to me, but you... I need you and you're going to come with me."

Jolyne did not understand what he was prattling about, but she had had enough talk already. She was close enough to attack him, so she did.

She watched with wide eyes, stifling a gasp, as he managed to dodge every one of Stone Free's punches effortlessly and precisely with an inhuman speed. With the exception of Star Platinum, she had yet to meet anyone within this darn prison whose stand was faster than her own, let alone the stand user themself. Worse, he did it nonchalantly, with his hands still tucked in his pockets, while whistling an unknown tune as he crept closer and closer despite all her efforts. The high pitch sound effectively grated on her nerves. The smile on his face fell when she closed the distance and surprised him with a powerful punch of her own mid-dodge.

"Now that wasn't very nice."

As Donatello wiped the beads of red blood from his mouth that came from biting his tongue too hard, he had to admit that he was spellbound by her. Of course, old Joseph couldn't compare to her. Aside from her youthful appearance, her way of moving was hypnotic, her voice like a beautiful song, and her character... Well, feisty characters were made to be tamed. No one said he had to drain every last drop of blood from her. She could last him a long time if he knew how to be patient.

"Fuck you, blondie. You and the priest. I've already kicked others' asses without knowing their whole family history."

She had only hit him with her own strength and her Stand, withholding her strings until now. She knew the bastard was fast, but she could set him up by using Stone Free's tightly-bound string ropes.

"Your ability is creating strings? How charming, a very feminine power!" he shouted, trying not to lose his calm.

"Yare yare dawa, are you going to kiss my feminine ass?"

Donatello considered telling her that he would gladly do it later, but the game was taking too long. Using his speed against her was his best bet while he continued attacking the pink-haired man, who was much more difficult to control than he had originally anticipated.

When he almost tripped on one of the strings, he felt a bit embarrassed and angry, but he couldn't lose his cool over that. However, he finally did lose it when just as he was about to reach over and grab her from behind, one of her strings caused him to stagger and sink to one knee on the ground with a grunt.

He was so close that he could almost touch her. He needed to touch her, he realized, as he stretched out his arm. His arm was currently gripped by Stone Free, and although he was able to free himself every time he managed to get close, one of her dainty string traps would ensnare him again. Donatello was already irritated, but now this was really boiling his blood. He was well on his way to being a full-fledged vampire, yet he was being overcome by strings? He was sure that no powerful vampire had ever been overcome by strings before, and that caused him to lose his temper even more.

He was forced to start diverting resources, using his Stand's slaves to attack her as well while ordering the remainder to carry out even more brutal attacks against her male companion. He hadn't wanted to hurt her more than necessary, but she was asking for it.

Why did she have to be so stubborn? If she'd just surrendered herself to him, he wouldn't have had to injure her to this extent, where her body was now littered with welts in the making of bruises. It was her own fault.

Jolyne made it hard for him to capture her, but she couldn't handle all of them at once. His fingers were finally able to graze her as his slaves, prisoners recreated from a failed prison riot, held her down, with the wailing from the other guy in the background.

Encaged within the prisoners' limbs, Jolyne breathed heavily, her face a deep red. She glared at him fiercely with her green eyes. He couldn't help the rush of satisfaction that overcame him at the sight, his victory. He stepped back to drink in the image. That's when he noticed it; in the scuffle, her jacket had gotten ruined and exposed the area around her shoulder and neck. A faded pink star birthmark stood out, contrasting against her peach skin. He had long already felt it in his blood, but now he had the full proof. He had really found her.

Donatello laughed, touching her and holding her within his embrace while she tried to wriggle free. She flinched when he buried his nose into her hair. He didn't think he would ever get used to her sweet scent; it was so intoxicating. He would tame her, all the while enjoying the process, and in the end, she would be begging to be in his arms. It was such a magnificent sensation, he almost felt a pleasant electric current run through his body.

Jolyne stubbornly turned her head to the side, but there was no escape. He ran his tongue over his lips and readied to sink his teeth into her neck when he heard a 'BOOM!' nearby and realized that his Stand was starting to lose strength.

There was only one person in the world with the ability to override his Stand, and it didn't take long for him to see the figure of another golden-haired man. He was accompanied by a petite green-haired woman in overalls and a tall guy with a strange hat. The golden man himself had found him.

While he was distracted, Jolyne took the opportunity to escape his arms, turning almost her entire body into strings. She could not go very far, but she could at least escape his grip even though she was too badly injured to continue fighting.

"Brother," he said angrily.

"Donatello," Giorno replied.

Donatello hated the response, but not because Giorno hadn't called him brother, as he didn't think of Giorno in those terms either. He hated it because the golden man pronounced his name better than he could, with a pure Italian accent, as if he existed to remind him that there was someone better.

"What the hell, was there some kind of bargain for blond vampire sickos? Fucking Pucci!" Jolyne shouted before collapsing to the ground from her injuries.


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