constartist: do you see her, she's so short (how did that girl even get in here)
joseph "useful and cool" joestar ([personal profile] constartist) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet 2017-08-26 02:28 am (UTC)

And thank you for doing the good Christian thing and agreeing to let me die alone again, just because the first time was so great. Real jazzed for a repeat.

[ If only he had died alone.

And there we go, the truth comes out. He really did spend all of this on a business call. The worst business call of Joseph's career about to become Caesar's. He was desecrated and pulled screaming from his rest to play second banana to his revenge porn. This, just like so many of Caesar's decisions, was one made just for him. Joseph should really have known that he wasn't something that was an actual factor in this hare-brained scheme, just a means to an end. Serpents wind an angry knot in his gut, and if he were only outside, then he would dig them out and throw more at Caesar's feet. His head is thick with sludge, bulging his skull from the inside. He slaps his hand down stiffly on a pile of napkins and skims it for a handful, wadding them to his nose.

Joseph scoffs in thin, tired disbelief. As disgusted as he is, this Caesar is such a departure from the last Caesar that Joseph saw. This is the real Caesar - selfish and ruthless. The line deepens. It's easier to manage.
]

Caesar -- I don't know. I don't have the first fucking clue about what they were. If I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation, because they wouldn't have killed me. The only way I'd ever tell you is if I could force you away from pursuing it. You get it?

[ Joseph's senses are emerging from death one by one, and the strings of dark ichor he pulls from his sinuses next begins to stir his nose back to life. Smoke. Joseph looks up. Cigarettes. He cringes, covers his mouth and his nose in his hand, turns away. The night is cooler on his eyes. He can't see him there, a perfect and glowing white silhouette, a streak of silvery paint shining in the shadow of the wood, of drooping and verdant greens. Watching.

Stop. It wasn't him. The moment still rings between his ears.
]

Would you please put that out.

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