[He had a daughter. Joseph and Suzie had a daughter. They would be good with a daughter, he thinks, even if Joseph wouldn't know what he was doing at first. He'd figure it out quickly enough. Must have, fifty years ago, and Caesar can't help but smile at that, because Joseph lived, he survived, he beat them, and he must have found some measure of happiness; he was always better at doing that than Caesar was anyway.]
I know her. She lived with us while we were training. I don't know, maybe they told you that.
[But they hadn't told him about Caesar. That makes sense, though. It's always easier to talk about the living than the dead, he knows this, and so he tries not to feel too stung by it.]
[There are other things to pay attention to, anyway. He's learning the minute shifts of Jotaro's expressions, slowly but surely, and whatever changes in that moment after he says last shot is enough to make Caesar's stomach hurt.]
[Last shot. He had asked for this, sort of, obliquely, a sense of duty and vengeance and a lifetime of volatility and anger spurring him on to a fight that would leave him crushed and broken. He doesn't regret it - can't, because it would mean everything he's done since he watched his father die was a wretched waste - but some smothered part of him recognizes how much he's missed. More so now that Joseph's grandson is standing in front of him talking about dying in order to beat a monster.]
[Jotaro shouldn't be here. He should be looking for his friend, the one Caesar saw before, and not talking to someone who knew his grandfather once long before he was born. But it sounds like an invitation, and once again, he can't find it in himself to say no.]
We were fighting-- [Another small smile; he can't help himself, he likes the phrasing.] Bastards. The Pillar Men. One of them killed my father, so when we got close, I went after him alone. I wanted to kill him. [A minute, fluid shrug, a quick flash of regret passing over his face, immediately replaced by resolve.] I didn't.
There's more to it than that, of course. Your grandfather was . . . a very important man, in a thousand ways. [To me. Important to me.] But that's the short version of how I got here.
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I know her. She lived with us while we were training. I don't know, maybe they told you that.
[But they hadn't told him about Caesar. That makes sense, though. It's always easier to talk about the living than the dead, he knows this, and so he tries not to feel too stung by it.]
[There are other things to pay attention to, anyway. He's learning the minute shifts of Jotaro's expressions, slowly but surely, and whatever changes in that moment after he says last shot is enough to make Caesar's stomach hurt.]
[Last shot. He had asked for this, sort of, obliquely, a sense of duty and vengeance and a lifetime of volatility and anger spurring him on to a fight that would leave him crushed and broken. He doesn't regret it - can't, because it would mean everything he's done since he watched his father die was a wretched waste - but some smothered part of him recognizes how much he's missed. More so now that Joseph's grandson is standing in front of him talking about dying in order to beat a monster.]
[Jotaro shouldn't be here. He should be looking for his friend, the one Caesar saw before, and not talking to someone who knew his grandfather once long before he was born. But it sounds like an invitation, and once again, he can't find it in himself to say no.]
We were fighting-- [Another small smile; he can't help himself, he likes the phrasing.] Bastards. The Pillar Men. One of them killed my father, so when we got close, I went after him alone. I wanted to kill him. [A minute, fluid shrug, a quick flash of regret passing over his face, immediately replaced by resolve.] I didn't.
There's more to it than that, of course. Your grandfather was . . . a very important man, in a thousand ways. [To me. Important to me.] But that's the short version of how I got here.