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The Joestar family name laid in ruin. Its sole blood heir, Jonathan Joestar, had perished at sea. The whereabouts of the remaining adopted heirs, Dio and Ronnie Brando, were unknown; they were considered missing or dead. The only one left to claim the Joestar name was Jonathan’s wife, Erina Joestar née Pendleton.Of course, this news had yet to be broken. Erina was being escorted back home by galleon, picked up by traveling traders near the Canary Islands. And with her, a child of unknown birth, and one of the missing Brando siblings. Two weeks had gone by since they had been picked up, and they were just half a day away from making landfall.Ronnie heard all of this from her spot under the bed.Sunlight would occasionally trickle in through the cracks on the wall in the captain’s quarters. Ronnie had taken note of it early on, finding her only recourse to avoid potential death or the gruesome boiling of her flesh, was to either huddle in the corner between the bed and desk, or to slip under the bed completely.Ronnie found herself laying on her stomach, staring at the spot on the floor where the sun was peeking through. Slivers of light dancing just beyond her, taunting her.“Just reach out and touch it,” a childish voice sang in her ear. It wasn’t real, she knew this, but that knowledge did her little good. “Do it. Do it now.”No, Ronnie chided that voice in her head, knowing better than to answer her out loud. Erina told me to wait until she returned. I will not cause her any further grief.She thought of Dio. If he was at the bottom of the ocean, surely the sun’s rays would have completely incinerated him by now. The likelihood of his survival was nil. The likelihood of him somehow miraculously coming back, as he had the last two or three times (Ronnie was losing count at this point), was…“Nil,” she said out loud, her claws scratching against the wooden floor. Inching forward. It wouldn’t take much, just a quick shock of pain, a burn that would wake her up. She was still sleeping, wasn’t she? She was dreaming. None of this was real. She had to wake up.
Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up wake up wake up--
“Ronnie?”Her hand inched closer to the ray of sunlight, just barely within reach. Wake up. Please. Please wake up. I can’t take this anymore—“Ronnie!” A swath of golden hair blocked her path to the sunlight. A plump face followed, warm eyes creased in concern pinning Ronnie in place. “Didn’t you hear me?”Freezing in place, Ronnie swallowed dryly. Her head still throbbed, but looking into those eyes greatly nullified her need to harm herself. “Ah. I must have been… daydreaming. Forgive me, Erina, what were you saying?”Erina furrowed her brows. “We’ve got an hour or so, still, before the sun sets… do you need anything? You’ve been awfully quiet, is all, and it… it’s been worrying me.”Slowly, Ronnie pulled her arm back, eyes cast to the side. She had been brutally honest with her earlier, but now… Erina has far more to worry about than her. “It’s nothing compared to what must be going through your head. I don’t wish to burden you further—”“Now,” Erina replied firmly. It commanded attention, compelling Ronnie’s eyes to roll back to her. “None of that. I can handle my own affairs just fine when they arise, Ronnie. Right now, I want to ensure your affairs are in order.”Ronnie bit her lip. Swallowed. Dio and Jonathan aside, she had been agonizing over a few minor details—that being her status as an undead monster. The fact that no one on the galleon had found out yet was a miracle. But once they made it back to England, people would notice, people would suspect—she would end up putting Erina in danger, she knew it.“… I am dead to the world, Erina. I do not think I have any affairs to look forward to. If anything… I am certain I will be hunted down, the moment we reach shore. I cannot keep myself secret from the world for long. Someone is bound to find out, someone is bound to…”Erina was quick to seize Ronnie’s hand with one of her own. Before she could say anything, however, she swayed to the side, slipping off the bed and landing on her head. Ronnie, eyes wide, let out an undignified squawk, and before she could stop herself, she moved to stand, bumping her head against the underside of the bed. Erina clattered to the floor shoulder-first, her legs still caught on top of the bed, leaving her half-hanging.“Damn it all,” Ronnie growled, eyes squeezed shut as she held her head in her hands. It didn’t hurt as much as it humiliated her, what with her bumbling in front of the one person whose opinion she valued above all else. “Are you all right? Why did you suddenly—”Upon opening her eyes, Ronnie was greeted by Erina, who had wormed her way under the bed from where she had fallen. Erina seized both of Ronnie’s hands and held them tightly, her eyes blazing with determination.“I won’t allow that,” she said, voice trembling from the fall. “As long as I live, I won’t allow anyone to come after you. I will keep your secret with everything I have—and I will protect you, Ronnie.”Ronnie felt her breath catch in her throat, her face blazing hot. Her heart was fit to bursting, though it pumped no blood—the clench she felt was almost too much for her. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to cry, or to kiss her, or to cry and kiss her. Ronnie did neither of these things, instead letting out a sigh, a weary smirk tugging at the edge of her mouth.“You’re too kind for a wretch like me, Erina,” she said, her tone warmed by Erina’s words. “What concerns me most is causing undue chaos for you, you realize?”Erina shook her head and smiled, a sight so heavenly that Ronnie nearly felt her soul leave her. “Don’t you worry a bit about me, Ronnie. I’ve grown quite a lot, you know; I’m hardly the waifish girl you knew back then. Just you watch—I’ll show you.”The bubbling, destructive miasma in her psyche had been quelled, and all it took was a few words and a kind smile. It was baffling to Ronnie, almost unbelievable—but it was true, the evidence was irrefutable. Each time she had come close to tumbling off a cliff, Erina had been there to seize her by the wrist and pull her back.She wondered if it was fair. Erina, being there for her, while Ronnie hardly ever gave her strength, was too unstable to serve as a pillar of support for her. That had to change. If she was going to focus on anything, it was that—she had to become strong enough, stable enough for Erina. She would not allow her to succumb to loneliness, not on her watch. Not after the hell she was put through.“Well,” Erina said, letting go of her hands. Ronnie tried not to wince as she scooted back, getting up on her knees, then to her feet. “I’ll keep an eye out on deck. As soon as it’s safe, I’ll let you know. We should be arriving soon.”“Of course,” Ronnie said, staring down at her own hands. “Thank you.”As Ronnie watched Erina’s feet as they crossed the room to the door, she found that her hands burned. She rubbed her thumb over the dip in her palm, feeling her brows pinch slightly. Before she could become lost in her own thoughts once more, Ronnie heard the baby fussing in her crib.She crawled out from under the bed, making sure to avoid any minor sliver of sunlight that might be streaming in, and made her way towards the crib. The crew had been generous enough to craft it themselves—of course, the work had mostly been done by the few carpenters they had on hand, but the other crew mates were quite enthusiastic about the process, as well—making it simple, yet comfortable.Kneeling beside the bars, Ronnie stared at the child. Truth be told, she had been nervous around her—though the baby hadn’t shown signs of being afraid of her before, Ronnie still couldn’t help but worry. Her face, as sharp and blunt as it was, surely wouldn’t be much of a comfort in the eyes of a babe.But this child, Ronnie found, was strange. She turned her head towards Ronnie once she approached, her fussing dying down considerably. She kicked her legs excitedly, exhaling rapidly, as if she had been waiting for her to come out. Ronnie bit the inside of her cheek as she got to her feet, leaning over the banister of the crib. The baby smiled, huffing rhythmically, cooing at her—completely unafraid of her. In fact, this baby wasn’t just unafraid, she was glad to see Ronnie.Clearly, this child has nerves of steel... Ronnie thought, lacking the capacity to understand that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as much of a monster as she made herself out to be. Feeling something clench in her chest, Ronnie extended her hand, offering her finger for the baby to grasp.The baby met her halfway, her tiny fingers wrapped around Ronnie’s thumb, wordless delight spreading across her face. Not even a grimace at just how cold and clammy Ronnie’s skin was, simply… delight.A sigh passed Ronnie’s lips, propping her other arm up onto the banister so that she could lean her face into her free hand. “How are you even real? How on earth did you survive, you can hardly even talk… you are more tenacious than most men my age.”Time passed by rather quickly while she was entertaining the baby, Ronnie found. Soon enough, Erina came back through the door, a smile of her own playing across her lips at the sight of Ronnie with the child.“She likes you quite a bit,” Erina remarked, reaching into the crib to gather the baby in her arms. She motioned for Ronnie to walk with her above deck, continuing, “Have you been spending time with her without me knowing?”Straightening up, Ronnie glanced off to the side as she fell into step next to her. “There is not much to do during the day for me, otherwise. She’s proven to be quite fearless… I must respect that. She is quite demanding, however, I must say.”“Demanding?” Erina cooed, smiling and stroking the baby’s face as they made their way up the steps. “How so?”Ronnie huffed. “Only in that she fusses until I come out and spend time with her… she does it frequently.”The three of them were soon walking along the deck, the soft murmur of the crew wrapping around them as they approached the ship’s bow. The breeze was soft and cool, a welcome change from the stuffy air below deck. The moon’s light danced on the waves, the stars peppering the space between light and dark.Casting her eyes forward, Ronnie spotted the coastline. The very same coastline that they had taken before, when Jonathan was still alive. Considering the deep, cold spike that the recollection gave her, Ronnie shuddered at the thought of how much worse it must have been for Erina. Before Ronnie could speak up and ask if she was all right, Erina raised her hand, waving to someone onshore.Ronnie squinted through the darkness and saw a maddeningly familiar checkered top hat.“You contacted him?” she said, turning to Erina.“Yes,” Erina replied, lowering her hand. “He was the only one I could think of, when it came to sending word of our arrival. I haven’t explained everything to him yet, not in my letters…”Ronnie bit back any further questions about this contact she’s kept with Speedwagon that she might have had, knowing they would sound accusatory. It was only natural that she contacted Speedwagon, she knew—he was the only one close enough to Jonathan that they could reach out to. Working out the tension in her jaw, Ronnie bit out, “Does he know that…”“No,” Erina said, her head tipping down. “I couldn’t… bring myself to say. He and Jonathan were so close, and telling him… it was not something I could do until we were face-to-face.”Furrowing her brows, Ronnie said nothing more, turning away and resting her eyes on the shore once again. It was getting easier to see Speedwagon in detail the closer they got, and the twist in the man’s brow could only mean that he suspected the worse. Once they made landfall, it was a mess of bombastic activity; tearful thanks and goodbyes to the crew that had brought them home, promises to stay in touch—all things that Ronnie had stepped back from, unable to give more than a few forced smiles and some soft words of gratitude.It was when she and Erina made contact with Speedwagon directly that things got worse, she found. He had gathered Erina up in a tight hug, fussing over the baby once he had realized he was squeezing her, as well. He seemed content to ignore Ronnie, leading the three of them through the port town, chatting Erina’s ear off until they found a lodge to stay in for the night. The clink of the lock falling into place brought a hush over the room they all stood in.Erina had excused herself hurriedly, muttering that she had to get the baby ready for bed in the other room, leaving Ronnie in the middle of the foyer. She stared at the back of Speedwagon’s head as he locked up. The silent treatment he was giving her was starting to grind on her nerves.“How long are you going to pretend that I am not here, you gutter rat?” she finally said, narrowing her eyes at the way he flinched. “I grow tired of these games. You have questions, don’t you? If not for me, then for Erina?”Speedwagon was silent, letting his hand fall from the lock on the door to hang limply at his side. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “I’ll admit, it is a surprise seeing you with Ms. Erina. Back in Windknight’s Lot, we all thought you—”“Spare me the I thought you were dead line, please,” Ronnie cut him off, folding her arms over her chest. “You know what I am now. You know who I am to begin with. Surely you knew that I wasn’t dead.”His hand curled into a fist. Slowly, Speedwagon turned, his eyes dark with something akin to rage. “In her letters… Ms. Erina said that Mr. Joestar wouldn’t be coming back with you. She did not elaborate… something about wanting to break the news in person. Tell me, where is he? What has happened? What have you done?”Ronnie felt something bubbling inside her. For once, it was not despair or grief—no, it was anger. Simmering anger at the accusatory tone that Speedwagon was taking. That rage that clutched at her on the boat, so fresh, seized at her. Clenching her jaw, Ronnie took a step forward.“I shall save Erina the trouble it would bring her to recall that night. She does not have all the details, in any case,” she said, taking another step, backing Speedwagon into the wall. “You ask me what I have done? You ask what has become of Jojo, and what happened?” Ronnie crowded him, and though he had a few centimeters on her in height, she got into his face. Eyes aflame, she growled, “Are you truly ready to hear that which you fear, rat?”In a turn that Ronnie wasn’t expecting, Speedwagon seized her shoulder and flipped their positions, slamming Ronnie against the wall and pinning her there with his one hand. The back of her head knocked against the door, her vision going fuzzy for a split second before focusing on Speedwagon once more. Her instinct was to rip his throat out for daring to lay a hand on her, but Erina and the baby—no, no, calm down. You can withstand this. He cannot hurt you, he’s proven it in the past.“Don’t toy with me, damn you!” Speedwagon yelled, “Do you have any idea just how Mr. Joestar grieved for you?! How deeply your words hurt him?! It wasn’t enough for Dio to fight him to near-death, no, you had to twist the knife and tell him you no longer thought of him as a brother! You and Dio—you Brando scum—your dirty blood is to blame!”Ronnie’s eyes flew wide, her hand lifting to shove him back. He was sent stumbling into the middle of the room, his equilibrium thrown off temporarily. Though she could have hurt him, she watched herself—as baffling as it was, she had no desire to hurt him. Not while Erina was in the other room. But still, being berated while her nerves were still frayed did little to calm her. She advanced on him, her clawed hand twisting in his tie.“My dirty blood? You want to repeat that, sewer rat?” Ronnie growled. “And to blame for what? Hm? For Jonathan’s misery, or his death?” Speedwagon’s face drained of color at her blunt delivery of such horrible news, to Ronnie’s cruel, sadistic delight. Rather than showing mercy, Ronnie goaded him further. “Oh, what’s wrong? Were you expecting me to sugarcoat it for you? Did you want me to regale you with the tale of how he valiantly fought off my brother and I? Because he didn’t. All he could manage was using the last bit of Hamon in his body to make the ship explode! All he could do was drag Dio down with him! Not exactly befitting the heroic image you had of him, is it—”Unlike the last time Ronnie had torn into him verbally, Speedwagon reacted with explosive anger, his hand cocking back and slapping Ronnie across the jaw. It hardly hurt her; with her increased pain register, it likened to a bite from an insect. But the force of it was still bombastic, the sudden shift in her inertia causing her to let go of his tie and take a step back. There was a pause, where all should could hear was Speedwagon’s heavy panting, his breath dragging on high notes—perhaps he was wondering if he had really just done that.“You witch… how dare you speak about your own brother in such a way?” he said, his tone wavering. He sounded on the verge of tears. “He loved you to pieces, even in spite of your transgressions—and this is how you repay him? This is your thanks for his unconditional love? You trample upon his good name and drag his memory through the mud… you must have been elated at his passing!”Ronnie wiped away at the fleck of blood that dotted her lip with her thumb, her tongue darting out to lick it off. Something about the way he said that, you must have been elated, it sat wrong with her. It bubbled in her mind, simmering, broiling under her skin until it was too much. She recalled Jonathan’s eyes, those sad, careworn eyes of his, of his last words to her, of the way he held Dio tenderly in his arms… the warmth she felt at her back out on the ocean—“Elated?” Ronnie mumbled, her head still turned away from him. Her ears started to ring, numbness tingling at her fingertips. “That’s really what you think of me, is it…”Before Speedwagon had a chance to respond, Ronnie snapped her head around, lunging at him without warning. The force of her body slamming into him threw Speedwagon to the ground, head bouncing off the floor as Ronnie dug her knees into his stomach, hands twisting in the lapels of his jacket as she began to shake him violently.“What the hell could you possibly know about Jojo and I?!” she screamed into his face, her surroundings completely muted, only able to focus on Speedwagon beneath her. “Do you have any idea what it felt like for me to have to watch him leave, over and over again, to fulfill some ridiculous destiny?! The one man, the only man to treat me with such—such genuine kindness—didn’t even stop to think before running headlong into danger! And he was too bullheaded and noble to realize how his so-called duties harmed the ones around him!“You think,” Ronnie’s voice cracked, slowly ceasing in her throttling, just holding Speedwagon down. He blinked up at her, brow pinched against the bridge of his nose. He didn’t move to push her off, but he still seemed apprehensive—even as Ronnie melted down in front of him. Feeling the last bits of her control fraying away, Ronnie pressed on, “That I would want to watch him die… that I would take joy in it… when all I wanted was for him to… just… stay.”A tear slipped from her lashes, pelting Speedwagon in the face. He laid there, bewildered, unable to respond to this—and frankly, Ronnie didn’t blame him; she hadn’t intended upon shedding tears in front of him in the first place. But her anger had given way to grief once more. Releasing her death grip on him, Ronnie sat back, allowing Speedwagon room to sit up as she covered her face with her hands. It was utterly humiliating, sickening even, to bare herself in such a way, in front of Speedwagon, of all people. But there was no stopping the flow of tears, no stopping the flow of words now. She had to get it out, or else.“I never wanted any of this,” she said through her hands, tears flowing, oozing through the spot where the heels of her palms met her face. If she didn’t see Speedwagon, she could fool herself into thinking no one was there, surely? “I don’t know what I wanted—I don’t know—why I went along… I should have just died… I should have died back then. I should have done something, I should have stopped him, I—!”“Miss Roanna, I…” Speedwagon murmured, shattering her fantasy of admitting to all of this in her own solitude. Ronnie did not remove her hands to look at him, but she heard him move closer—thankfully not too close. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you, and I… I shouldn’t have struck you as I did, I apologize. I… didn’t want to believe that the worst had happened, and I couldn’t take out my grief on poor Ms. Erina—but that was no excuse for me to take it out upon you, either. Some gentleman… but I—I don’t think you’re being dishonest with me, when you say all of this. I should have stopped to consider how hurt you must be… you like to put up a strong front, missy, but I can practically smell the grief on you.”Ronnie removed her hands from her face, sliding back a centimeter. He was trying his best to bury the hatchet—or, at least, to establish a less vitriolic tone with her. She knew, even now, that she would likely never consider this man a friend, but given just how much he knew about her now… it was better to have more allies than enemies, wasn’t it? And it would be less of a strain on Erina, if she played nice. Certainly it was humiliating and a pain in her neck, but if she wanted such a thing, she would have to treat him less like an insect and more like a… human being. Her stomach turned at the thought. But she sighed heavily, wiping at her face.“You’ve got that right. You’re no gentleman. But,” she said quickly, sensing that Speedwagon would take offense. “I never expected you to be. You can be as gentle of a man towards Erina, towards the baby, or towards anyone else—but I don’t need it. You know as well as I that I am undeserving of such. However…”She lifted her head to look Speedwagon in the eyes. And, trying her best not to let her superficial disgust impede her in this, her first attempt to be forthright with him, she said, “I appreciate the apology. And… I am sorry, myself, for being boorish towards you. What happened on that boat is still fresh in my mind, and… I took it out on you, as you had done so towards me.”Speedwagon, for his part, looked flabbergasted. Clearly he wasn’t expecting Ronnie to actually apologize to him, let alone admit to what she was truly feeling. His mouth moved, but he couldn’t seem to find the words. And then, rather than speaking, he let out a short burst of air—almost a laugh, but a bit too brief, too clipped to be one. His mouth quirked up in a confused smile as he swiped a hand over his face.“I thought I’d have been dead before hearin’ something like that from you, Miss Roanna—”“Ronnie.”She was on a roll now, when it came to startling Speedwagon into silence. He shook his head and said, “Pardon?”Pursing her lips, Ronnie turned away, feeling utterly defeated. To think, she would be desperate enough for allies that she would allow, of all people, the man whose face bore the proof of her wretchedness even as a child to call her Ronnie. A nickname she only allowed from those she had let in—Dio, Erina, and of course, Jonathan—those she considered trustworthy enough to see into her heart. Or, at the very least, a fraction of it. She buried her face in the palm of her hand, dragging it down as she prepared herself for what was about to come out of her mouth.“Of course you’re going to make me spell it out for you,” she growled through her fingers, not daring to look at Speedwagon (though the surprised huff framed around a smile gave away her worst fear, that Speedwagon was smiling at something she had said, proving once and for all that she was showing him her weakness). “Call me Ronnie. We’ve made attempts on each other’s lives more than once, I believe we can skip the formalities.”Speedwagon laughed. “When you put it that way, I suppose there’s no point in arguing! Very well, then, Miss Ronnie it is!”Ronnie rolled her eyes, getting to her feet. “You don’t need to tack the Miss onto it, you moron. What did I just say about formalities?”Speedwagon followed suit, in much better spirits than before—though, the tug of melancholy was still present at the corners of his eyes. “That seems to be rushing it a bit, don’t you think? I’ll need time, after all! I hardly know a thing about you—ah, well, aside from your taste in weaponry.”Letting out a snort, Ronnie waved at him dismissively, already moving to take a seat on the chaise. “Just shut up and go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning. Don’t you dare disrupt Erina or the child’s rest, either, or I will rip your throat out.”“Eh?” Speedwagon cocked his head to the side. “Aren’t you heading to bed—ah, right, you’re…”Ronnie, already sick and tired of him, removed her shoe and threw it at Speedwagon’s head. He just barely managed to dodge it, the heel of it knocking Zeppeli’s hat clean off his head. “I won’t repeat myself. Go.”“All right, all right! Chrissakes, you’re a hellcat even when you’re not antagonizing me…” Speedwagon bent over to pick up his hat, dusting it off and perching it back on his head. With a wave of his hand, he crossed into the inner hall. “I’ll bid you good night then, Miss Ronnie.”Ronnie huffed. “Try not to die in your sleep, Speedwagon.”The entire flat fell silent after that. Erina and the baby were likely asleep by then, and Speedwagon was sure to follow suit. Getting up from the chaise, Ronnie made to dim the candles set in the corner. Her shadow shifted and grew, and just as she was about to blow the wick, it changed, turning into someone else. It couldn’t have been the spectre of her childhood—she only knew one person with such a gargantuan silhouette—“I’m so proud of you,” Jonathan said. Ronnie saw his shadow in the corner of her eye, but she knew he wasn’t really there, and as such, she couldn’t bear to turn around. She didn’t want to see that no one was there. She wanted to let herself be fooled, if only for a few moments. “Speedwagon has always been rather excitable… I was afraid that you hated him.”“I do,” Ronnie whispered. “I…”“You’ve never given anyone else that sort of consideration,” Jonathan pressed, the head of his shadow shaking lightly from side to side. “That’s better than nothing, I think. I hope you two learn to get along.”Her nose twitched. Before her eyes could burn, Ronnie shut them. “I’m sorry.”“Don’t apologize.”Ronnie blew the candle out, allowing the ensuing darkness to fold around her, its embrace too cold to be mistaken for his.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Weeks passed after they made landfall. Word got out rather quickly that the bride of the Joestar heir had returned, alive and well. Not to mention the fact that the blushing bride was now a weeping (Ronnie felt herself sneer) widow. There was no shortage of support from friends of the Joestars, condolences, financial backing, shoulders offered for crying upon—Erina took it all, composed and regal as she was.Ronnie almost envied that. However, considering she was still presumed dead (as planned, for more than a few reasons), Ronnie didn’t have to bear all the responsibilities that came with family business. It wasn’t fair, either, that Erina was bearing the burden of the Joestar name when she only married into it.She told Erina that much the next time she thought of it while they were alone. They moved from their initial flat to a more resplendent one, now that they were being actively supported in their time of need. The moon shone through the window, its crescent light illuminating Erina’s face from where she sat in the nook. Ronnie watched her from her spot on the bed, laid out on her stomach.“It’s fine,” Erina said. “I don’t mind it. In a way… I enjoy it.”Ronnie scrunched her nose. “How is dealing with annoying riffraff enjoyable?” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she flinches; she shouldn’t have said that.Instead of getting angry or confused with her, however, Erina let out a chuckle. “I wouldn’t call them riffraff. They’re all close family friends of the Joestars, aren’t they? I’m learning more about the Joestar family every time I talk with them. And taking care of things like funds and such… it makes it feel official. That I am Erina Joestar.”Erina Joestar. It had a nice ring to it. And yet, Ronnie couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that shot up her spine. Pursing her lips, Ronnie propped herself up on her elbows. “I feel terribly, that there’s little that I can do to help.”“No—none of that now,” Erina held a hand up to stop her, shaking her head with a smile. “Your circumstances are complex, Ronnie. I would hate for someone to get the wrong idea and try to hurt you for something you cannot help.”Sinking back into the mattress, Ronnie lets her head loll to the side, brows pinching as she rested her arm over her head. “I am undead, Erina, it isn’t that complex. If you were to ask about the process, then, well…”“Yes, right—the mask, and… something with the brain?” Erina nodded, frowning as she thought of it. “Quite barbaric.”Ronnie pursed her lips, claws raking along the back of her head, against her chignon. “I should’ve asked Jojo about the details back at the hospice. Though truly, the process wasn’t what interested me… in any case, it’s frustrating. Having all this power and still being unable to ease your burden.”Erina laughed a little, combing a hand through her own locks, loose and free. “I wouldn’t call dealing with family affairs a burden, Ronnie. But if you want to help, hmm…” She touched her chin in thought, her eyes flicking down. Ronnie watched her, hoping that her own eyes weren’t too unsettling for Erina. They weren’t much different from her old eyes, but she couldn’t help but worry.“Perhaps you could help me with Elizabeth?” Erina finally said. That was the name she’d come up with for the child they rescued. “She’s already quite fond of you. And having another pair of hands when it comes to taking care of little ones is always welcomed.”Ronnie jutted her bottom lip out, her fangs framing it and exaggerating her pout. “I’ve no experience when it comes to that sort of thing. I fear I would be more of a hindrance than a help, in such a case… though, I cannot say no to you, I’m sure you know that.”Erina smiled. “I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few things here and there. You’re quite smart, Ronnie, I’ve every confidence that you will pick it up fast.”She didn’t need much convincing—any convincing, really, she’s powerless in the face of her smile—but the added benefit of learning from Erina… it was a deal she couldn’t afford to pass up. Ronnie still felt anxious around little Elizabeth at times, yes, but perhaps that could be remedied this way.“All right,” Ronnie nodded, sucking her lip back in. “I suppose I could do that much. Child-rearing… I never would’ve imagined myself in such a role.”“Really?” Erina tilted her head, sounding genuinely surprised. “I will admit you are rather rough around the edges, but—”“Erina,” Ronnie sat up, giving her a blank look. “I’ve killed people. I think that simply calling that rough around the edges is putting it too lightly.”Her lips pulled into a tight line, Erina turned her head away. “Jonathan had killed before as well, Ronnie. Speedwagon, too. If I allowed that to warp my perception of those I hold dear, I would be alone.”Ronnie felt her stomach churn, tying itself in knots. Lowering her head, she grips at her upper arm, thumb grazing the old scar in her shoulder. “That was… uncalled for. I apologize.”“In any case,” Erina moved on, turning back towards Ronnie. She was smiling, but her tone remained firm. “I know you. I’ve seen who you truly are—you’ve helped me numerous times, not to mention you showed compassion for Elizabeth back then. However you may see yourself, I am confident in the trust I’ve placed in you.”Though there was little blood in her body to do so, Ronnie felt her face grow warm. Even now, even after everything, Erina still believed in her. Still trusted her. It filled Ronnie with an overwhelming warmth, and though she was cold and dead, she’d never felt more alive than she did in that moment. Her lips twist in an awkward smile, and she breathed, “I love you so much.”There was a beat of silence. Ronnie realized, belatedly, that she had just said that out loud. Whipping her head about, Ronnie stared at Erina with wide eyes, who returned her gaze with a pleasantly surprised one of her own.“I—” Ronnie blurts, slapping a hand over her mouth. “I, ah. That is. Um.”Instead of recoiling in disgust, like Ronnie was afraid she might have, Erina’s smile widened. Her cheeks flushed warmly, pink high on her cheekbones. She was always so beautiful, but right then, Ronnie felt that she would never forget that look.With no shortage of gentle warmth in her voice, Erina replied, “I love you too, dear Ronnie.”Instead of responding with poise and grace, Ronnie slumped back onto the bed, burying her face into the sheets. Moments like these… yes, they made her life less bitter. The razor sharp of edge of grief that thinned her veins and cut into her nerves was dulled, replaced with the sweetness that Ronnie never thought herself deserving of. Her voice muffled into the pillow, Ronnie said, “You’ve dealt me a mortal blow, Miss Erina.”“Elizabeth loves you, too! Isn’t that right, darling?” Erina cooed at the baby, who responded in kind with her own warm, breathless laugh. Warm, warm, warm, why was it so warm all of a sudden? Ronnie turned over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. This is a new feeling, she thought, I am nauseated, and yet… I do not mind.“You’re teaming up on me now,” Ronnie moaned, throwing an arm over her face. “You and Elizabeth both.”Erina was laughing now, trying to hide it behind her hand. “But you will help with Elizabeth, won’t you? I realize it must be quite the task, but I assure you that you would not be doing it alone.”Sliding her arm away from her eyes, Ronnie turned her head to look at Erina. From her spot, she was tilted sideways, but no less breathtaking. She would be far more beautiful in a nook of their own, in a home of their own. Now that she was thinking about it, Ronnie sat up. “Yes, fine, I will. But Erina dearest, what are we to do about our living situation? Surely hopping from flat to flat cannot be healthy for the poor thing.”“Actually,” Erina said, shifting towards her. “I was thinking we could rebuild Joestar manor.”The fluttering warmth in Ronnie’s stomach died a quick, cold death. She had no idea if it was showing on her face—part of her was hoping that was the case, because Ronnie didn’t know how to put it into words just how badly she didn’t want to live inside an exact replica of the mansion her brother died in.“Were you now…” Ronnie said, trying and failing not to grimace. “And… why would that be, if I may be so bold?”Ronnie can’t bring herself to look directly at the look on Erina’s face; disappointed shock, perhaps a little hurt, a bit of confusion. But Ronnie can’t bring herself to take any of it back, not for this.“I simply thought…” Erina cast her eyes down to Elizabeth, worrying the inside of her cheek with her teeth. With a gentle hand, she combed her fingers through the short, feather-light hair dusting the child’s head. “The only time I was able to see your home was after it was destroyed. Every day I spent in India, I would dream of waking up in those halls… it was the only part of your lives that I was never able to share.”It is a legitimate reason. It is true—however short the time she spent with the Joestar family was, not once was she ever invited over. Circumstances being as they were, it’s no surprise. After all, every other week, the Joestar house was in some degree of chaos; Ronnie getting into fights, Jonathan and Dio getting into a row, at least one of them being grounded for a few days at a time… and by the time things had calmed down, Erina was already gone.Above all, it was a tender, sentimental request. Erina wanted to live in the same household that her husband grew up in. There was nothing wrong with it.Ronnie closed her eyes, trying to picture it. The three of them, living in resplendence, her and Erina chasing around little Elizabeth, teaching her how to read, how to speak… giving her the life that she deserved. It was all too easy to imagine Erina and Elizabeth, sitting on the stairs with their faces illuminated by the light of the chandelier, and Ronnie standing at their side, smiling—actually smiling at them, a picture of warmth, of domestic bliss.We would be a family, Ronnie thought, her lip twitching. A real family…But then. Oh, then. She could just as easily imagine turning her head to the wall, and though there would be no way for it to be true, the stone mask would be there. Lording over her, staring her down, reminding her of all the years spent under the watch of that horrid thing. All too easily, she could imagine the sound of punches being thrown, could turn and once again see Jonathan and Dio as boys, beating the sense out of each other. She could watch their forms morph and inflate, watch as they became men, watch as George fell limp in Jonathan’s arms, watch as Dio was filled with bullets, watch as everything around them went up in flames, flames, flames, watch as the statue of Venus turns her head down to look at Ronnie, her lips parting—“But we could add some new things, of course,” Erina, bless her heart, broke through Ronnie’s spiraling delirium. “Such as an underground home for you, my dear.”Ronnie shook her head, feeling the sheen of sweat cool on her forehead. “What?”Erina smiled gently at her. “Well, I couldn’t possibly ask you to agree to such a thing if I hadn’t thought of implementing a safe area for you, could I? We could furnish it however you like. As if it’s your very own flat.”The idea didn’t settle Ronnie’s nerves as much as she would have liked it to. It was something of a relief, yes, but there was still the lingering doubt in the back of her mind about the setup.“Should we go through with this,” Ronnie said slowly, her claws catching and tugging lightly at the fabric of her sleeve. “We will need to… hire on new, trustworthy faces for the help. People that will not know my face, or my name. Ones that will accept my condition, and keep quiet about it.”“You do not want any of the old help?” Erina turned her body towards Ronnie, rocking Elizabeth in her arms without thinking. “I had thought, perhaps, at least one that knew of the Joestar family circumstances would—”Shaking her head sharply, Ronnie said, “No. Not a one. They will all believe I am dead—and should they happen to find me in this underground flat, there is no telling how they would react.”“And if they are relieved to see you…?” Erina pressed.“They won’t be,” Ronnie stood, arms crossed over her chest as she moves to rest her shoulder against the wall at Erina’s side, staring out at the moon. “After what Dio has done, they will surely see me with as much contempt as they see him. And even then, I was hardly the favorite child among them… Dio was the charming one, after all. I threw fits, I was unsociable, I was angry and confrontational… I was hardly an ideal nobleman’s daughter, even when I entered adulthood.”Erina fell silent. Ronnie felt badly for being the wet blanket, in a way, but it was necessary to bring these things up; the last thing that Ronnie wanted was to cause more undue trouble for her and Elizabeth. Casting her eyes down, Ronnie caught Elizabeth’s gaze, her eyes wide and shining. Though she couldn’t bring herself to smile, she allowed her features to relax a bit, her face growing less severe.“I will not allow myself to become a burden upon you, Erina,” Ronnie sighed, slumping down to sit on the opposite side of the nook. She was tempted to reach out for her hand, but hesitated, letting her hands curl in her lap instead. “I would rather throw myself out onto the street in the midday than let that happen.”Shifting the baby into one arm, Erina met her halfway, reaching over to clasp her palm over Ronnie’s knuckles. “You are not a burden, Ronnie. Not on me, nor on Elizabeth. If hiring on new faces will make you feel more secure, we shall. You need only speak, and I will listen.”Ronnie turned her hand over under Erina’s, shaking as she allowed herself to curl her fingers around Erina’s palm. Though it should be impossible, Ronnie could almost feel her deadened heart try to leap in her chest.“Such is far more than I deserve,” Ronnie felt a lopsided smile tug at her lips. “But I thank you for it.”Things were strange, uncertain still. But in that moment, with Erina’s warm, careworn hand in her own, Ronnie found that she could think of the future without a hint of trepidation. The construction of the new Joestar mansion began shortly after. Rather than building it in Liverpool, as the original had been, it was built in the outskirts of London. Hopping from flat to flat turned out to be a necessity, at least until the day the mansion was ready for them to move into.It was a bright, sunny May afternoon when they received the missive of the mansion’s completion. To avoid suspicion—as well as Ronnie’s incineration—Erina and Elizabeth left the flat first, with Ronnie scheduled to join them once the sun sets.“You’re certain you’ll be all right?” Erina asked, smoothing her skirts out with one hand, clutching the handle of Elizabeth’s stroller in the other. “I feel terribly, embarking without you. It is just as much your new home as mine, we should see it together.”Ronnie attempts a reassuring smile, knowing full well how awkward it must look. “As much as I would love that, my dear, I cannot. Believe me, it kills me not to go with you just as much as it actually would if I did.”It was a poor joke, and Erina did not laugh. She drew her lips into a tight line, rolling Elizabeth’s stroller around to where Ronnie sat on the bed. “I know, dearest. I wish there was some way around it—Elizabeth gets so fussy when she can’t see you.”Just to prove Erina’s point further, Elizabeth smiles upon seeing Ronnie, kicking her feet and reaching out for her. Quirking her lip up, Ronnie met Elizabeth halfway, letting her soft, tiny fingers curl tightly around Ronnie’s. If she minded how cold her skin was, Elizabeth didn’t show it, her smile growing wider as she wags Ronnie’s hand back and forth.“Perhaps someday,” Ronnie murmured, surprised at how fond her voice sounds to her own ears. “We will have a way to stand side-by-side during the day, sweet Elizabeth.”Erina’s hand slid over Ronnie’s cheek, a lightly calloused thumb stroking the skin beneath her eye. Letting her face be turned, Ronnie gazed up at Erina, finding it difficult not to melt under the warmth in her eyes.“We will find a way,” Erina nodded her head once, her tone firm but kind. “I promise you that.”It was hardly the most romantic setting; the room is dark, the curtains drawn, and the bed Ronnie sat on was somewhat ratty and unmade. The chest of drawers was emptied, the side tables and shelves cleared of the few mementos that they had, all tucked away into the suitcase stored under Elizabeth’s stroller. The room smelled stale and stuffy, body odor being the only foreign scent that Ronnie could pick out.And yet, sitting there with Erina’s hand on her face, gazing down at her… Ronnie wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss her. She can’t lie to herself and say it would be a chaste one; no, with how overwhelmingly beautiful Erina was, with how intensely Ronnie felt about her, it would be ravenous. In fact, Ronnie couldn’t rule out that she wouldn’t give in to more carnal urges, to grab, to feel, to bite—No, absolutely not, Ronnie chastised herself, swallowing thickly. Nothing so crass, and never in a place as dingy as this.Instead, Ronnie lifted her free hand to clasp it over Erina’s, sighing and leaning into its warmth. She imprinted this feeling into her soul, dedicated the look in Erina’s eyes to memory. “Your carriage is waiting, Erina. Do not let me keep you.”Though it pained her to hurry them along, she knew that it couldn’t last forever. The slide of Erina’s fingers against her face as she pulled away is a bittersweet thing, the light touch against her knuckles as Erina eases Elizabeth’s fingers off of her other hand leaving a faint, lingering pain in Ronnie’s chest.“Of course,” Erina stood up straight, pulling the stroller away and turning it towards the door. “Oh—before I forget, when should we be expecting you?”Ronnie blinked at her. “An hour after sunset?”Shaking her head, Erina gave her an expectant look. “In specifics, Ronnie dearest.”She didn’t say it out loud, but the look she gave Ronnie spelled it out for her; pulling back on her urge to wince, Ronnie reaches into the pocket of her crisp white trousers, pulling out a golden pocket watch dangling from a chain.“You truly didn’t have to go out of your way to buy such an ornate thing for me,” Ronnie muttered, flipping the watch open. The inside was intricately designed to emulate the Prague Orloj. “I am most certainly not worth the fortune it must have cost.”“Nonsense,” Erina said, tutting lightly. “Nothing is worth more than you are, Ronnie. Now, when should we be expecting you…?”If Ronnie could blush, she was certain her cheeks would flush darkly in that moment. Checking the clock, she said, “After eight or nine, give or take. So that would make it… four or five hours from now.”Pleased with her response, Erina gave Ronnie a cheeky smile, steering the stroller towards the door. “The more you use it, the more it will become a habit. Being particular about time is only proper, don’t you think?”The urge to roll her eyes was overpowering, and Ronnie only did it once she was certain Erina wasn’t looking. Minutes bleed into each other for Ronnie now, hours passing as quickly as seconds. She wondered if Erina took notice of that; she had to have, if the expensive pocket watch meant anything. “If you insist.”“I do,” Erina made sure to angle the door so that its shadow fell on Ronnie. “I know how prone you are to daydreaming by now.”Daydreaming is one way of putting it, Ronnie pulled back the snort that threatened to bubble up. “I’ll keep a close eye on the time, Erina. Don’t worry.”With one last dazzling smile, Erina ducked her head in a nod and wheeled Elizabeth out of the room, shutting it softly behind her. The silence that followed rang in Ronnie’s ears, the sensation of emptiness weighing down heavily on her chest.The room, though dim, was light enough where lighting the bedside lamp would be unnecessary. The sun was high in the midday sky, beating against the thick curtains and illuminating the windowpane. Shadows cast over the far wall to Ronnie’s left, making the chest of drawers look gargantuan against the door.Ronnie shifted her legs onto the bed and laid out on her side, staring at those shadows, waiting. Soon enough, the silhouette of a head rises from the top of the chest’s shadow, a pair of broad shoulders following. It was a regular occurrence now; perhaps it was the one harmless method Ronnie could use to cope. It wasn’t real, she had come to terms with that—but it felt real, and for that, she allowed herself to indulge.“You agreed to it rather quickly,” Jonathan’s voice, though it sounded hollow, was just as warm as it always was. “I thought you hated the mansion.”Ronnie tugged the pillow under her neck, fluffing and adjusting it as she stared at Jonathan’s shadow. Once she was comfortable, she gave a weak shrug with one shoulder. “I do, but I love your wife more.”Jonathan’s voice reverberated with the chuckle he gave, the head of his silhouette dipping with the action. “You make it sound so indecent.”“Maybe it is, a little. You know how I feel,” Ronnie said, furrowing her brow. “And you don’t seem to have an issue with it.”“Perhaps I would, if I was still alive,” Jonathan’s shadow raised up a little, as if he was sitting on the chest of drawers. “But even then, I doubt I would take umbrage with it. Erina has touched the lives of many, but only a select few have ever been able to touch hers. What good would it do, getting angry about my wife being cherished so?”With a roll of her eyes, Ronnie said, “And if I thought about kissing your wife? Would I need to expect you, suddenly a far more malevolent spirit, to make the rest of my eternal life more of a living hell?”The best (or worst, depending on the day) part of these little talks was that Ronnie couldn’t see Jonathan’s face. Whether it was by her own choice, or by his, it didn’t matter—she wouldn’t be able to say these things if she could see those eyes of his.“You and Speedwagon are the only ones I trust with that,” Jonathan gave a sigh. “But only if she wanted it so. Of course, I know neither of you would ever force such a thing upon her.”Ronnie felt her jaw click. “Speedwagon? Really?”“And what is the matter with that?” Jonathan said, sounding incredulous. “I didn’t bat an eye at you expressing such feelings for her. Why wouldn’t Speedwagon harbor similar feelings?”“Come now, Jojo—normally I would admit to being possessive, but really,” Ronnie snorted, rolling over onto her back. “Surely you aren’t that naive about Speedwagon.”“What do you mean…?”“Oh for god’s sake,” Ronnie shook her head and sat up, staring hard at the shadow. “You didn’t once think about the way that silly man looked at you? How he spoke to you, and stayed by your side no matter what? Any sane man, especially one from the streets, would have tucked tail and ran as far away as possible after what had happened to him in the mansion.”Jonathan’s silhouette was silent. Ronnie could see the flex of his jaw in the shadow, as if he was speechless.“But Speedwagon came back. He continued coming back, after everything. Jojo…” Ronnie didn’t pause to let him try and make excuses, though, rubbing her temples as she explained this to him. “You dear, sweet idiot. The man adores you.”“Ah,” Jonathan could only squawk. “When you… put it that way…”“Is it truly so unbelievable?” Ronnie insisted. She propped an elbow up onto her knee, slouching forward to cradle her face in her hand. “You are the sort of man that anyone would fall head over heels for.”“Not true,” Jonathan’s shadow shook its head. “You’ll recall that most girls my age thought of me as boorish.”Ronnie rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time, feeling as if they might have rolled out of her head if she kept that up. But she continued arguing with the shadow, even as it exasperated her. It was comforting, speaking with Jonathan’s shadow—it made her forget, for just a little while, that he was gone. As long as she remembered to focus on the shadow, to force herself not to try and look the other way, to see if maybe, just maybe, he was really there.He never was. And checking to see always shattered the illusion for her.“I must say,” Jonathan’s shadow said, fading as the sun began to dim. “Seeing how well you get on with the baby is rather surprising.”Huffing, Ronnie crossed her arms across her chest. “How rude. You didn’t think that I would be good with children?”“It never seemed to be something that registered with you, that’s all I meant.” Jonathan flickered against the wall. “And you were never fond of most company… I did not think you hated children, but I did not think you would be so…”That implication should offend her more, but Ronnie only found herself sighing shortly. Her own moral compass was entirely broken—she had no problem killing a man in the throes of grief, but killing children seemed… below her.“Children need not fear my wrath, Jojo. It would be too easy, what with their frail bones and… malleable tissue,” Ronnie murmured, making vague squishing motions with her hands. “Though I would not say that absolves me of everything else I have done. You’ve seen what I’ve done. Just because I won’t go out of my way to antagonize a child doesn’t mean that I’m not still a monster.”“Perhaps,” Jonathan’s voice was growing fainter. “But that distinction means something, wouldn’t you say?”Ronnie could feel her teeth click, her jaw tightening. She did not answer, instead letting Jonathan’s shadow fade into the quickly-dimming atmosphere, shutting her eyes and breathing in the thickening silence.There is no meaning in it, Ronnie affirmed to herself. One or two supposedly ‘good’ things that I do… they do not make me any better. My sins are what define me and my wretched blood.Her hand numb, Ronnie touched at the three birthmarks on her ear. Sickness clenched at her deadened stomach. “Don’t they, Dio?”There was no answer. Ronnie did not sleep. But time passed, as it often did.Opening her eyes, Ronnie sat up and fished her watch out of her pocket, flipping it open. It was eight thirty; if she didn’t want an earful from Erina, she would need to hurry.She could either leave through the front entrance (and deal with the front desk, potentially), or leave through the window. Their room is on the fourth floor. Moving to the other side of the bed, Ronnie stood up and pulled the blinds open, peering out to the street below. There’s no signs of people, at least not on this backstreet.The fall, if I do not take care, Ronnie thought, Could shatter my ankles, if not worse. Such a thing would be a problem for me, if my body was still mortal… however…With that in mind, Ronnie opened the window, the crisp night air cooling her cheeks. Taking a seat on the sill, she swung her legs out, her heels clicking against the mortar face of the building. She can’t drop straight down, not with the planters hanging on the windows below.Ronnie sucked her bottom lip in, fingers curled around the sill as her legs braced against the wall. She leaned out, her weight centered at her feet, her line of sight set upon an alley between two neighboring buildings. With the distance more or less gauged, Ronnie inhaled through her nose, steeling her nerves as she kicked off the wall, her heels cracking at the brick as she shot down towards the alley.Her body angled forward, Ronnie tucked and rolled into the mouth of the alleyway, stumbling and scraping her knees against the cobblestone as she came to a stop. The faint tingle of pain from her flesh being torn under her trousers is less of a problem and more of an annoyance. Clicking her tongue, Ronnie ignored the crack of her bones forcing themselves back into place as she stood, brushing the dirt from her front as best as she can.Right, she thought, looking down the length of the alley. There are a few more backstreets, and she can pick out vague silhouettes of people loitering the further down they go. From here… yes, the new mansion isn’t all that far at all, is it.There wasn’t time for her to get picky with her route; going straight down this way would be the fastest way. If she can brush past the people lingering about up ahead without arousing attention (or suspicion), she should be fine. With one last huff, Ronnie squared off her shoulders and headed down the alleyway.Crossing the streets in between proved to be easier than she expected; it was when she drew closer to the people that she realized it would be significantly harder to sneak by, as she’d hoped. It was a group of men, and given their choice of locale, they were of ill repute. That alone wasn’t the problem—Ronnie didn’t fear them, much less regard them as more than insects. It was the promise of a row with these men that worried her; if they picked a fight with her, they would be slaughtered.As much as her lust for blood begs her to give in to her violent urges, she knew that causing trouble here would cause trouble for Erina. If she killed anyone, filthy gutter slime or not, she would need to kill any potential witnesses, as well—because if she didn’t, posters of her likeness would be posted about London, causing yet another headache for Erina to deal with.Ignore them, Ronnie curled her hands into fists as she approached them. They aren’t blocking my path. Do not make eye contact, do not acknowledge them. Move quickly.The stench of alcohol grew stronger as she came to the mouth of the alley where the men resided. It was so strong, even at this distance—it made Ronnie’s stomach churn uncomfortably. Holding her breath, she kept her eyes forward, not rising to any of the rowdy glares she was being given.Just as she passed the last two men at the end of the alley, one of them spoke up. “Oi. I recognize those birthmarks—those three moles, they’re the marks of a Brando.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ronnie shouldn’t have stopped. She should have kept walking, acted like she hadn’t heard him at all. But stop in her tracks she did—she did not turn to look at the men, did not even allow herself to entertain the thought.“Been a long time since a Brando’s stunk up these streets.” the man continued, spitting the name Brando with enthusiastic vitriol. “Thought they upped and left, off to tickle fancies with some rich country trash.”“Wasn’t it just the one prat that Dario had, though? Nah, wait…” one other man peeks at her face, his features smudged in her peripherals. “Ohh, now I remember. He had some bricky puke toddlin’ around after him some days, didn’t he? That you, missy?”Ronnie clenched her jaw tightly. There’s a whisper in the back of her mind, a thought fueled by hunger; they’re nobody, they’re garbage, no one would miss them if they were dead.“Aw, don’t be so shy,” a hand slapped at her chin, a figure danced before her, mocking her. “If it’s true, ya certainly don’t have the smell of them haughty nobles. Not that ya smell much like the streets, either, no… you’re right in the middle, who’da thought such a thing possible? Hah!”Lips pursed, Ronnie felt her fingers twitch. She couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t see what they were wearing, could hardly recognize them as people. How many were there, again? Were they all men, or women, or something in between, or something beyond that? Did they have families, friends, were they friends with one another? Or were they simply in a group out of convenience?
Do they bleed?
One inhale was enough to tell her. She had kept herself in check these past few months—she hadn’t fed in all this time, not once. There was no time to, no opportunity, and putting it off just seemed easier. It seemed better, letting herself suffer.But now… with these men before her, behind her, surrounding her… she wanted nothing more than to find out not only if these men can bleed, but how much can I make them bleed?Ronnie bit her lip. No. Think of Erina and the baby. If she caused any more trouble for Erina, for the life she had already sullied, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.“These rats have families of their own.”A voice in her head, not her own or Jonathan’s, gripped at her. It was familiar. It was maddeningly, achingly familiar to her. A voice that she had only ever heard outside of her head, and that it was coming from within her now, something about that—the finality of this voice, at last, joining the choir of ghosts she has branded onto her soul, was something that Ronnie did not want to accept. All at once, she wanted the voice to stop. To be silent. To shut up.The voice did not. “Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters. Though they stick to the underbelly of this city much like you did, they have more than you. They know things that you never have, and never will. The love of a father, the presence of a mother… and they have the gall to speak to you like this.”Its tone was cold and smooth, self-assured in a way that only one person in her life had ever been. But if she was hearing it now, she would have to accept the one thing that she had been adamantly ignoring. Jonathan’s death was enough, she was still parsing through her grief for him, but to even consider acknowledging that he wasn’t the only brother she lost that night… it would mean—The voice, again, bites at her. “Do it.”Ronnie tensed her hand into a claw just as a distant voice broke through her stupor—shrill and loud, annoyingly familiar.“Down there, officers!” it shrieked, going up at least three octaves in the span of a scant moment, “They’re hassling a young woman!”Like cockroaches, the men began to scatter, taking off down the alley behind Ronnie. In their haste, one of them bumped into Ronnie, causing her to stumble into the wall. Casting a look over her shoulder, she weighed the options she had—stay here and deal with you-know-who, or chase the bastard that touched her and rip him limb from limb—and rubbed at her temple as the object of her apparent rescue rushed over from the street.The former may be aggravating, but it’s the sort of aggravation she can deal with.“Miss Ronnie! There… you are!”Without even a moment’s hesitation, Speedwagon came traipsing into her line of sight, all asweat and red in the face. He stopped in front of her and hunched over his knees, taking in heavy, greedy lungfuls of breath. Just how much sprinting around had he been doing? He was meant to be at the mansion, he can’t have come running all the way out into the city just to find her.“What impeccable timing.” Ronnie managed to keep her tone even, though she can’t quite keep out the scant traces of her rage in her expression. “And what a hero you are, saving the lives of those gutter rats.”Speedwagon lifted his head, annoyingly bushy brows drawing up. “What? Miss Ronnie, I came to—”“Don’t bother, I know full well what you thought you were doing,” Ronnie cut him off, crossing her arms over her chest. “But you know as well as I that the only ones in danger were them. Perhaps you as well, if you’d come any later than you had.”Shutting his mouth with an audible click, Speedwagon allowed his head to drop once more, focusing solely on catching his breath. Ronnie made no move to offer him a hand, nor did she even consider suggesting that he lean against the wall, that hunching over like that wouldn’t help much. Instead, she swept a hand through her hair, sliding the unruly strands back into place.“Miss Erina sent me,” Speedwagon spoke up after a minute or so, pushing himself upright again. His face was still flushed—Ronnie could practically smell the blood pooling in his cheeks, and that thought alone was enough to make her want to gag. “You worried her a great deal, being so late.”Ronnie made a face, wrinkling her nose. She pulled out her pocket watch and checked the time—nine fifty, nearly two hours off of her designated arrival. Ronnie personally didn’t consider it to be that great of a deal, but she couldn’t help but grimace.“It… isn’t terribly late…” Ronnie still argued, though it sounded weak. “Is she really so worried?”“She wouldn’t have sent me if she wasn’t.” Speedwagon said, concern laden in his voice. “Wouldn’t you do the same, were you in her position?”Of course not, Ronnie wanted to say, wanted to put forward the illusion that she didn’t care more deeply for the woman than she cared for herself—but the narrow-eyed look that Speedwagon gave her just as she opened her mouth to say it told her enough. A lie that egregious would be obvious to anyone, even Speedwagon.Sighing so hard that her shoulders slumped, Ronnie said, “Yes. I would. Are you satisfied? You’ve pulled the absolute truth from the maw of a duplicitous beast. Now you can go around bragging about it to all your little sewer scum friends, what a great boon.”Infuriatingly enough, Speedwagon chuckled at that. “While I’m sure Tattoo’d get a real kick out of that, I think I’ll keep it to myself. Who knows, the thought might keep me warm on colder nights.”The temptation of throttling Speedwagon until his face turned purple was almost too strong for her to resist, but Ronnie kept herself under control, inhaling deeply through her nostrils to calm her nerves. It only half worked. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she said, “Tell me you have some sort of carriage with you. I cannot guarantee that I will not peel you in half if I’m to walk back to the mansion with you.”It was a very, very genuine threat. But again, Speedwagon looked at her as if she was joking. “One of my mates has a place nearby,” he said, gesturing for Ronnie to follow him out of the alley. “He’ll let us borrow his clarence and we can get to the mansion in no time flat.”“And you know how to operate one, yes? You’re good with horses?” Ronnie asked, keeping her arms crossed she followed along. She stared at his back, brows furrowed. “You don’t strike me as the equestrian type.”Speedwagon turned his head to smile sheepishly at her. Ronnie felt one of her eyes begin to twitch.“Well, ah,” Speedwagon scratched his head, sticking his fingers under the brim of his hat. “I’m sure his horses recognize me… there shouldn’t be any… ah, problems.”Ronnie narrowed her eyes at him and said nothing. Speedwagon stared back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with his growing discomfort. Though the night air was crisp, Ronnie could see a thin sheen of sweat starting to form at his forehead. His thundering ring of his nervous pulse was near-audible, though Ronnie noticed the uncomfortable beat of his aorta before hearing the sound of it.“Right,” Ronnie said, “I’ll take care of the damned driving, you just point me in the right direction.”“If you insist, Miss Ronnie!” Speedwagon let out a laugh, too forced to be natural. “It’s got room for two up front, I’ll gladly be your humble guide!”Rolling her eyes, Ronnie tossed her head back. “Fool.” As it turned out, Speedwagon’s friend was not home. But his clarence carriage and horses were; and, hilariously enough, Speedwagon spent no less than ten minutes scribbling out a note to leave behind for his friend while Ronnie handled the horses.“You’ve got experience with ‘em, right?” he had said, already two steps beyond the front stoop. “Clarence’s out back, I’ll be right out!”Of all the things to well-and-truly scare him, it’s horses, Ronnie shook her head. No matter.Speedwagon’s friend had something of a ramshackle stable for his horses. It seemed that his friend could only afford minor repairs to keep it standing, rather than splurging for a brand new one. And the horses were well-mannered, only needing an apple or two before fully warming up to her. Their harnesses were well-worn, though they were far more weathered than the ones she was used to.“You’re loved, aren’t you?” Ronnie said softly, stroking one of them along the neck as she gathered their reins in her other hand. One of the horses nickers, nudging into her hand. “Good. I had my doubts, but for once, I am glad that they were unfounded.”Hitching them up to the carriage wasn’t simple, but she had seen the help do it countless times before. Managing the shafts and traces were easier on her second go, and by that time, Speedwagon was making his way over.“My apologies for makin’ you do all that work,” he said, noticeably keeping his distance from the horses even then. “Was a lot harder to find pen and paper in there than I thought…”Ronnie dusted her hands off, glaring at Speedwagon as she boosted herself up into the driver’s seat. She patted the seat next to her impatiently. “I’m sure. These sweet things were hardly the beasts you seem to think they are.”With great trepidation, Speedwagon maneuvered his way into the passenger seat, still eyeing the horses warily. “No such thing as playin’ it too safe, yeah?”Rather than entertaining Speedwagon’s need for validation, Ronnie urged the horses into motion, steering them out and onto the street. “Just tell me which way we’re meant to go.”“Ah,” Speedwagon, withered by her rejection, mumbles. “Right.”If nothing else, Ronnie could admit that Speedwagon was adequate at giving her clear directions. With how often he crawled the streets, he’d have to have a good sense of where in the hell he was going if he wanted to stay alive.With that in mind, something began to bother Ronnie. A hardened street thug like Speedwagon, scared of horses? What on earth was that about? Was he kicked as a child, or is it simply nonsensical? He’s faced down hordes of zombies and he gets nervous around a horse?“Have you always been afraid of horses?”There’s a beat of silence before Ronnie realized that she’d said that out loud. She blinked at the road ahead, affirming to herself that this was real and not, in fact, one of her hallucinations, and glanced at Speedwagon from the corner of her eye. He seemed just as bewildered as she, his eyes fluttering, as if to say what on earth? You, Miss Ronnie? Striking up a conversation? Perish the thought! Just thinking of it like that made Ronnie flush with rage.“Pardon?” he asked, his head tilted.Ronnie growled, “You heard me. Or are you suddenly deaf? Answer the question before I gut you like a sheep.”“Ah, there we go,” Speedwagon relaxed upon being threatened, stoking the fires of Ronnie’s indignation. “Startin’ to worry me for a second there, thought you’d gone out of your mind.”The tendons in Ronnie’s hands bulged with the force of her grip on the reins. “You—”“To answer yer question, though,” Speedwagon artfully continued, “I wouldn’t say I’m scared of the things, just… well… after that scuffle we had with Jack in the tunnel—”Ronnie raised her eyebrows, turning her head fully to face him. It was a common enough name, but considering their shared company, it couldn’t be an unrelated man. “Jack?”“The Ripper, yeah. He killed the driver of our carriage and…” Speedwagon visibly cringed as he recalled the incident, “Cripes, he beheaded the damned horses. Must have thought himself a comedian, since he plopped one of the horse’s heads on top of the driver. And then, the mad bastard, he was inside one of the horses! Wormed his damned way into the neck and made himself comfortable!“Ever since then,” he finally sighed. “I haven’t been able to look a horse in the eye without feelin’ sick to my stomach…”The mental image alone was enough to make Ronnie grimace. “So his thirst for blood didn’t stop with just women… what a putrid man.”“That’s right—” Speedwagon sat up straight suddenly, looking at Ronnie with concern in his eyes. “He said something back then, something about you! He mentioned not getting to have his fun, or some such nonsense to that end…”Ronnie groaned. “Of course he said that. He wasn’t permitted to kill me when he’d stolen me away from the hospital—”“He stole you?!” Speedwagon shrieked. Ronnie shushed him before he could go up another octave, gritting her teeth.“Shh, shut up, you’ll startle the horses. And… technically,” Ronnie shrugged her shoulders, “He didn’t steal me from the hospital itself, I had sneaked out to confront that Asian man… so…”It was Speedwagon’s turn to pinch the bridge of his nose, a gesture that Ronnie wasn’t used to seeing directed her way. “My god, do you have any idea how much of a fuss you stirred up after you disappeared? The entire hospital was in a panic! Miss Erina and Mister Joestar were worried sick, and when Jack implied that he’d gotten his hands on you, my word—the look on Mister Joestar’s face…”Ronnie turned back toward the road, pursing her lips. She hadn’t thought about it at the time; in fact, it had never occurred to her, the mess she was leaving behind with her recklessness. She’d simply thought that her disappearance would be a weight off the shoulders of the nurses forced to tend to her, and a relief to both Erina and Jonathan that they wouldn’t have to put up with her any longer.“I…” Ronnie murmured, her knuckles tightening on the reins. “I didn’t… I thought that they would be glad—”Speedwagon cut her off, clearing his throat noisily until Ronnie turned back towards him. “That is nonsense, and you know it. Now, I may have been somewhat relieved that you were gone at the time, but make no mistake—Mister Joestar and Miss Erina cared deeply about you, and they still do.”It was true. Logically, Ronnie knew that he was telling the truth. But hearing it from Speedwagon? The boy she sliced in the face all those years ago, the man that she’s tried to kill on multiple occasions, the idiot that wormed his way into their lives based solely on a whim?“Ugh,” Ronnie groaned and brought her hands up, pressing her forehead against the ridges of her knuckles. “I cannot believe of all people to lecture me about this, it had to be you. Of all the indignities…”“That pride of yours is somethin’ else…” Speedwagon said, crossing his arms over his chest loosely. “Y’know, you’d sleep a lot easier if you let it go once in a while.”Snorting, Ronnie sat upright and urged the horses into a gallop. “Shut up before I consider stuffing you into a horse.” Even with her bitter silence, the rest of the ride back to the mansion was pleasant. Which in itself was infuriating. Things with Speedwagon are starting to get pleasant, this is a nightmare, Ronnie reflected as she stabled the horses. Can he go back to hating me? In fact, can everyone go back to hating me? That is much, much easier for me.Having more than just one or two good relationships was an alien concept for Ronnie, and it made her viscerally uncomfortable. It must show on her face, because Speedwagon commented on it as they made their way to the front door.“You look like you swallowed a rotten apple, Miss Ronnie.” Speedwagon scratched at his cheek. “Are you gonna be all right?”Ronnie, rather than giving him a straight answer, snorted and snarled.Speedwagon laughed, making to pat her on the shoulder before thinking better of it. “Come on now, it’ll be fine! If it’s Miss Erina you’re worried about, she won’t lay into ya too hard.”Oh I wish, Ronnie thought to herself. “I’d rather she lay into me than look at me with those watery eyes of hers. If she cries, it will no doubt be the end of me.”“Now, now, Miss Erina’s made of tougher stuff than that. Chin up, now!”Ronnie glowered. “Stop talking to me like I’m a toddler or I will rip your intestines out and use them as housewarming decorations.”“That’s the spirit!” Speedwagon said cheerfully, ignoring the depth of Ronnie’s glare as he reached for the door’s handles. “Keep that up and Miss Erina won’t think anything of it.”Now he’s giving me words of encouragement, Ronnie slapped a hand to her forehead and dragged it slowly down her face. What on earth is wrong with this man, acting so chummy… there must be some animosity still lurking there, this can’t be genuine.The idea that it might be genuine, that Speedwagon really and truly was trying his best and was really warming up to her, was more of a pain in her neck than if he was holding a grudge. Being hated, vilified, seen as nothing less than a monster—that was where Ronnie’s comfort laid. But being liked…? Or even loved?The doors opened then, the light from the chandeliers assaulting her eyes. Ronnie squinted and shielded her eyes, swallowing down the urge to sneer at the damn-near exact replica of her second childhood home.“Ronnie!”At the sound of Erina’s voice, Ronnie dropped her arm just in time for Erina to all but tackle her. Though her arms weren’t quite as dense as Jonathan’s were, her embrace was no less vigorous. In either case, Ronnie knew for a fact that her heart had never soared as high as it did when Erina had her in her arms, her golden hair tickling at Ronnie’s cheek.Ah, I could die, Ronnie thought as her eyes shut, wondering if her deadened heart would shiver back to life. I could die right here and be satisfied.“We were so worried,” Erina said into her shoulder, squeezing her tight. “I knew you would be fine, but I simply couldn’t stand the thought of you being away for any longer!”Ronnie opened her eyes, and just as she was about to respond, she met the gaze of a man standing by the stairs. He was real, Ronnie knew that much; he was holding Elizabeth in his arms, steely and stoic even as the child played with the long, dark locks that framed his face.The Hamon warrior, Straits, stared her down. Ronnie blinked.Oh good, she thought to herself, contemplating the deep, seething hatred she found in his glare. He still hates me. Thank god.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It must say something about her, Ronnie thought, that she was more comfortable under a hateful gaze than a loving one—to hate, to be hated, it was easier for her. An object of hatred needed no careful handling, no measured reactions; she needn’t agonize over how to respond to someone she hated, because their response hardly meant anything to Ronnie in the long run. Filtering herself was not an issue in these cases.
And so, without pause, Ronnie met Straits’ eyes and said, “
Good lord, you look worse under chandelier light.
Does that Hamon of yours do nothing to make you less repulsive?
”
It was fortunate (for him, Ronnie noted) that he was holding Elizabeth upon hearing that. Straits seized up, tensing so abruptly that Ronnie could practically hear the sudden clenching of his muscles beneath his flesh.“You dare—” Straits snapped his mouth shut before he could complete the thought, his teeth clicking.
Before she could stop herself, Ronnie grinned, fangs on full display. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize you had such a delicate ego. Why, if that’s all it takes to irk you, then it’s as fragile as
thin ice.
”
A feverish flush spread over Straits’ face. He was clearly holding back, not wanting to startle the baby—
good,
for
if he does, I’ll drain him here and now,
Ronnie thought—but the sheer strain in his face proved that he desperately wanted to spew his own venom at her in retaliation.
Before she could make another snide comment, Erina patted at the back of Ronnie’s head, her eyes disapproving. “Ronnie dear, please. We have business with him. Play nice.”Those eyes were like sharp fingernails tearing at her heart. And while the thought of Erina becoming so unhinged and feral that she would physically tear out Ronnie’s heart was surprisingly arousing, Ronnie couldn’t rightfully turn her down. Erina knew better, of course—her sensibility greatly compensated for Ronnie’s complete lack of self-restraint, at least in this regard.“Mmgh,” Ronnie grit her teeth. “Very well. Though you’ll have to forgive me for being on edge. After all, this man has the means and motive to kill me where I stand.”Erina placed a gentle hand on Ronnie’s cheek. “I’ve discussed it with him, he’s sworn that he will let you be.”
Oh, of course he has,
Ronnie shifted her eyes back to Straits, who had yet to fully settle himself down.
Anyone would swear their allegiance to you, my dear Erina. But the depth of that allegiance is hardly something one can trust implicitly…
“Might I ask what this business he has with us is?” Ronnie looked back to Erina. “Has he agreed to be our head butler, perhaps?”From the corner of her eye, Ronnie could see Straits bristling further at the idea. She fought back a smirk.“Oh no, nothing as such,” Erina answered her wholeheartedly. And then, with no idea just how much her next words would shake Ronnie, she added, “He has agreed to adopt Elizabeth.”The words hung in the air like a pungent vapor, the gravity of their meaning seeping into Ronnie’s brain with agonizing sluggishness. Why the idea of Elizabeth being adopted into a different family didn’t occur to her, Ronnie had no clue; perhaps because it was an outcome that she was dead set against. It was supposed to be Ronnie, Erina, and their baby Elizabeth—that was the one thing she craved in her eternal un-life, and here it was being ripped away from her before she could even get a taste of such bliss.From the corner of her vision, she could see Speedwagon wincing at how severe her expression must be. Ronnie felt her lower eyelid twitch. “Excuse me?”Erina smiled, her brows worrying together as she watched Ronnie’s face—which Ronnie was certain looked quite a state, a cycle of anger and grief already flashing across it intermittently. Petting her cold, clammy cheek, Erina spoke to Ronnie in soothing tones, saying, “Dearest Ronnie, don’t fret so. Elizabeth will remain with us until she reaches her adolescence, and this is hardly goodbye to her—she is a Joestar at heart, wouldn’t you say? Sir Straits will not keep her from us, he has assured me of that.”“But…” Ronnie croaked out, her throat constricting. Keep calm, Ronnie told herself. Erina need not see the ugliness brought about by her own anxiety—struggling to keep her voice level, Ronnie continued, “Erina, you were the one that endeared me to the idea of child-rearing. You cannot simply plant such an unnatural urge in me and then take away the child I want to raise, that’s too cruel. I will not be a good parent if I know that I cannot keep her.”Impossibly, this seemed to make Erina’s smile grow warmer, her head tilting just so as her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Whoever said that we won’t still raise a child together?”“You can’t possibly be suggesting we steal a different baby to raise alongside Elizabeth, Erina.”“No, no, you silly girl,” Erina giggles. “I want you to raise my child with me.”Ronnie blinked. “… your child?”“My child,” Erina took a step back and rubbed a circle over her own stomach, smiling bashfully. “I think Jonathan would have wanted us both to watch over it. You’ll have to wait a bit, but I was hoping… that you would stay with me.”
Ah, of course,
Ronnie felt her reproachful thoughts throttle her, the revelation hitting her in much the same way a rock fired from a catapult would collide with her midsection.
Jonathan’s child. They… created one.
It shouldn’t have been as much of a shock to Ronnie as it was. Of course Erina and Jonathan would have copulated, they
were
a happily married couple after all. And given just how long they went without seeing or touching one another, of
course
they would make love as soon as their vows were taken. As soon as they had a moment alone together, high on marital bliss, they would have secreted themselves away from any and all prying eyes, hands intertwined and smiles beaming across their faces as they closed and locked the bedroom door behind them…
To feel jealous was nonsensical. To feel envious was perhaps more logical, but childish nonetheless. Ronnie hated that she felt so angry about the prospect of Erina bearing Jonathan’s child—for what could she have hoped for, otherwise? Ronnie could never give Erina a child, not in the way Jonathan could have. She knew that, and yet…“Of course I will stay with you, Erina. If you would truly have me…”
And yet… why?
Ronnie forced a smile. She hoped that Erina, seeing such an ugly display, would merely assume that it was Ronnie’s poor attempt at a smile, and not the mask that it truly was. “I would want for nothing more.”If Erina suspected that her smile was a false one, she did not show it. Ronnie knew better.
Ronnie miserably wondered,
Why couldn’t it have been mine?
The chamber hidden beneath the grand stairway in the new Joestar mansion’s foyer was dark, deathly so. The only light that Ronnie had was her own, one of the few lanterns laid out for taking at the start of the long spiral staircase that led down to its secret basement.Her part of the mansion, as it would turn out. The spiral staircase spins around a gondola in the middle, an ambitious elevator woven into this part of the mansion that very few would likely ever see. Ronnie opted for the stairs for her first time down, her heels clicking against the cast iron steps, echoing around the tight chamber.The shadows cast against the wall morphed into a familiar silhouette, broad shoulders bent to curve against the stone. Ronnie grimaced to herself, “You’re going to be a father. But you knew that, didn’t you?”Jonathan’s shadow shrugged sheepishly. “I was hoping that would be the case, yes…”Ronnie wrinkled her nose, hefting her lantern up towards the shadow. It curls further around the wall, the shift in lighting causing its upper half to swell larger. “My god, Jojo, even in this, you’re sniveling. Can’t you at least sound a little more pleased with yourself?”“Surely you know why I held myself back,” Jonathan said, an apology laden in his tone. “I wasn’t sure how you would react. With how you feel about Erina, I…”Ronnie snorted. “I’m hardly a child, Jojo. How did you think I was going to react? Did you think I would throw a tantrum, burn the entire mansion down?”“Actually, I thought that you were going to take it out on Speedwagon,” Jonathan admitted. “I was preparing myself for it, even.”“Your faith in my self-control is so pitiful,” Ronnie let out a huff, tossing her head back. “I’ve been getting along with him famously, and you are still convinced that he is my biggest target.”“I am sorry,” Jonathan said, not sounding sorry in the least. If anything, he sounded amused; if Ronnie could see his face, she’s certain that he would be sporting a weary smile. “To think I’d let my worries cloud my senses—you’ve matured so very much, Ronnie.”As Ronnie reached the bottom of the chamber, she rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue, curling her fingers around the curved pull handle set in the door. The heavy door slid across the stone floor, opening to Ronnie’s new living quarters with a modest flourish. Blowing out the candle in her lantern, Ronnie set it aside and felt her way through the dark, making her way inside.Wrinkling her nose, Ronnie groped along the wall near the door. There was a switch somewhere, she recalled; Erina explained it as best as she could, repeating all of the instructions that she was given by the eccentric that designed the inner workings of the new Joestar mansion. Gas-powered lighting was no more, Erina had said, and the entire mansion had been subject to electrification, as the designer had put it. As such, the chandeliers in her chambers were all powered by electricity, and all she needed to do to turn them on was flick the switch on the wall.The switch that she was still having trouble finding. What on earth was she supposed to be looking for, anyway? What was this switch supposed to feel like, and how would she know when she found it? Ronnie growled under her breath. At this rate, she’d rather just sit in pitch blackness.Distantly, Ronnie heard the secret entrance above being opened. Hurried, scrambling footsteps scurry about in the upper chamber—initially, Ronnie assumed it was Speedwagon, but the weight of those footfalls weren’t quite right. Just as Ronnie began bemoaning the fact that she could recognize that man’s footsteps, the gondola above rattled to life, the sound growing louder and louder as it descended. A source of light gradually reaches the lower chamber, shadows curling around Ronnie’s back and leaking into her room.“Oh, oh, thank the stars and heavens above!” an unfamiliar voice chirped as the gondola reached the ground, “I had thought, perhaps, that I was a smidgen too late in my arrival—oh but then, miracle of miracles, the lady of the house told me that you had only just retired to your basement quarters!”Ronnie found herself bewildered, stunned still for the moment. Slowly, almost hesitatingly, Ronnie glanced back over her shoulder.A frumpy-looking individual was fumbling with the door of the gondola, apparently not thinking to put the lantern down in order to speed up the process. Their glasses, clearly expensive, were sitting askew on their nose, dangerously close to falling off. Their entire ensemble looked pricey, but with how wrinkled and stained they appeared in the lamplight, Ronnie couldn’t tell where exactly this person would fall on the rich-to-poor scale.“And… you are…?” Ronnie found the words difficult to get out for some reason or another. She had a vague feeling that this person was the eccentric that Erina had hired to construct the interior of the mansion—and with an entrance like that, the term ‘eccentric’ still felt too mild for them.“Dusty—ah, that is, the name is Dusty Davies, madam!” the frumpy eccentric stumbles out of the gondola, fighting with their coat as it gets caught on the gate. “Please, just call me Dusty, no need for formalities! I’ve instructed the other lady of the house to do much the same, you see, and it would be rather odd to be called by my surname in these circumstances.”Ronnie can feel her brows furrowing as this person draws closer to her, lantern held aloft. “I… suppose so, yes.”Dusty, apparently having no sense, reaches over with their free hand and shakes Ronnie’s hand vigorously. Ronnie’s arm flaps about uselessly, too stunned to rip her hand away—and even when she regained her senses enough to do so, Dusty had already withdrawn their hand to comb it through their short but thick, mussy hair.“Right-right,” Dusty breezed past Ronnie, and maddeningly enough, they find the switch that Ronnie had been searching for right away. The room lights up in an instant, the electrified chandeliers hanging from the ceiling lighting up so brightly that Ronnie had to squint her eyes against it. Dusty remained unaffected somehow, waltzing right into the room with a confident strut, “I expect you’ll be wanting a full tour of your new living quarters, Ronnie?”Grimacing, Ronnie blinks rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the light. She took a step into the room, her heels clicking against the floor as she grumbled, “You aren’t giving me much of a choice in the matter, Mi—”“Just Dusty, my dear! I already told you, no formalities!” Dusty spun on their heel and wagged their finger at Ronnie. “You really ought to clean those potatoes outta your ears!”Pinching the bridge of her nose, Ronnie huffed a sigh. She could feel a migraine coming on, and the fact that this person doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated by her was throwing Ronnie off quite a bit. Not even Ronnie’s scowl seemed to be affecting Dusty, a feat that very few can claim to.“Fine, then. Dusty,” Ronnie said through gritted teeth. “Give me the damned tour so that you may leave my presence as quickly as possible.”“Yes, yes, of course! A fine young lady such as yourself must have quite a lot of acclimating to do,” Dusty continuing to remain unfazed by Ronnie’s usual irritable demeanor wasn’t only maddening to experience; it was just shy of annoying, harmlessly annoying, and Ronnie found herself flabbergasted for the first time in years. She simply stood by, dumbfounded, as Dusty breezed straight into the front room. “And of course, if you need assistance with any of the little electrifying oddities I’ve squirreled away in here, why I would be more than happy to lend a hand! Though it may be a little, heheh, dusty!”
Erina, where in the hell did you find this… Dusty?
Ronnie pinched at the bridge of her nose and trailed along after them, putting aside any instinct to just swat at the eccentric like they were just a bug and listening carefully as they laid out the setup for Ronnie’s underground quarters.
The layout was simple. The door opened to what would be Ronnie’s living quarters, a sitting room of sorts. It was equipped with arm chairs, sofas, and chaises spaced out at a relatively friendly distance from one another, perfect for entertaining guests (
what guests,
Ronnie thought). Tea tables were placed thoughtfully among them, side tables with lamps set beside each arm chair. A mighty bookshelf lined the East wall, a writing desk set beside it.
Spanning the floor beneath it all was a long, lavish rug, blood red in hue with branching black patterns woven into it.
A
nd towards the North end of the room laid another bookshelf, but though it didn’t appear outwardly inconspicuous, Dusty leaned in to inform Ronnie that it was there solely to keep the emergency doors to the outside well-hidden. The doors themselves were well-padded, preventing any chance of a draft—and that the doors outside were practically invisible themselves, hidden beneath a coat of false grass.
There were three other rooms, aside from the main one. A small dining room (
meaningless
), a washroom with indoor plumbing
and a drying rack for her laundry
(
fine enough, if a bit excessive
) and a master bedroom for Ronnie herself (
too grandiose
).
“And not only that!” Dusty swung into the next statement with their entire body, thrusting themselves bodily into Ronnie’s personal space with a wagging finger. “I’m sure a keen eye like yours has noticed the communicators in each room!”Ronnie leaned back and away from Dusty’s protruding finger. “Those box-things with the bells and wires on them?”“Indeed! Communicators! Telephones, if you want to be shrewd,” Dusty waggled their eyebrows at Ronnie, who failed to understand what they were trying to get across. “They are connected throughout the mansion, granting you easy access to speak with any of the people in the house! Be it a servant you require for mending a button on your sleeve, or Erina for a bit of a chat while you’re both otherwise indisposed!”“Indisposed—what is that supposed to mean?”“It matters little!” Dusty evaded the question and remained impervious to Ronnie’s death glare. “It’s for your convenience, as well as they convenience of anyone who wishes to drop you a line before they simply come down to see you.”“Drop me a…” Ronnie shook her head, deciding not to ponder on what ‘dropping a line’ entailed. Though she wanted nothing more than to urge Dusty to vacate her presence, there was one more thing that Ronnie needed to confirm. “And what of the extra… communicator? You said there was one for each room, but there are clearly two of them in this main hall.”And it looked a bit different from the other phones, on top of that. While the telephones that connected her to the rest of the mansion were uniform in their design, this extra one was a bit boxier.“Aha-ha, you have a keen eye, Ronnie!” Dusty swung into view, slapping the side of this odd-phone-out. “This beauty is for placing calls outside of the house!”Ronnie found little need for such a thing. Who was she going to call? The only people that mattered to her were either dead or living in the same house as her. She knew no one else with these things, and even if she had, they wouldn’t be able to afford it.(Though the idea of Speedwagon trying and failing to operate one of these things provided her with a brief moment of schadenfreude.)“Though I must recommend you use this for emergencies only, as it’s still in the development stages. Right now, it’s best used for calling the coppers or the firehouse.”“And why is it here if it’s for such a thing?” Ronnie bit out. She tilted her head to the side, sneering at the boxy monstrosity. “Would it not be better utilized if it were above ground?”Dusty shook their head, smiling with what Ronnie could only perceive as pity. Ronnie set her jaw and crossed her arms, telling herself no, it would not do any good to kill this person right now. Dusty seemed none the wiser, “Why, where else would the people of the house go to if there was some sort of emergency? In the basement, of course!”“Ah, so you’ve turned my chambers into a shelter.”“Well, only when such a crisis arises. We’re in times of peace now, no? So you needn’t worry about being bothered!” Dusty bravely claps one of their hands on Ronnie’s shoulder. “Plus, your personal rooms all have locks and keys that only you have access to.”Before Ronnie can sarcastically inquire about what keys might those be, Dusty thrust a ring of keys into Ronnie’s face. With slow, measured movements, Ronnie took the keys from them, taking a full step back and away from the frumpy eccentric to keep herself from ripping a hole through them.“And that, as they say, is that!” Dusty perched their fists on their hips proudly. Blessedly, they spin on their heel and all but jog in the direction of the exit. Ronnie very nearly let herself sigh in relief, but before they leave, Dusty whipped their head around as they paused at the door. “Oh—before I forget, you can use that emergency phone to contact me, as well, in case something breaks down and you need a dashing genius to come and fix it right up, heheh.”Ronnie wrinkled her nose at them. “A dashing genius. And where, exactly, would I find one? Do you know any?”She intended the words to sting. To push this person away. But maddeningly, Dusty laughs like it’s the best joke they’ve heard in years. “You cut me to the quick, my dear! But I shall be waiting, should you ever need a helping, albeit dusty hand!”Ronnie bit her tongue and waited until Dusty shut the door behind them. Waited until she could hear them ambling onto the gondola. Waited until the sound of the gondola ground to a stop at the top. And then, dropping the keys onto the nearest tea table, Ronnie put her face in her hands and let out an anguished groan.“If I have to contend with one more goddamned moron today…” Ronnie growled to herself, all but collapsing into the arm chair that she had decided is hers, no matter who she brings down here to ‘entertain.’ It is the largest one, naturally, with velvet black upholstery and elegant silver stitching. It is soft, but not too soft; it is just firm enough to keep her from sinking into cozy oblivion.And as she sat there, letting all the tension bleed from her body in one long, heavy sigh, Ronnie felt the aches and pains of her particularly long day throb deep throughout her body.“To think I could still feel tired like this…” Ronnie lolled her head to the side, eyes sliding shut. “I suppose I am still human, in that way.”Part of her wanted to hear a snide voice in her head, admonishing her for believing in something so sentimental. But there was nothing but empty silence, both inside and outside of her head.It ached.“Dio,” Ronnie covered her eyes with one hand. “What am I meant to do now…?”No answer.“It was never supposed to be this way,” Ronnie said. A sick feeling welled up in her throat. “I hate not having you here. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”In the darkness beneath her eyelids, Ronnie can see him. Not as a disembodied head, nor as a vampire, nor as a man—but the young boy that was her brother, back before they left the slums. He stood before her with those same cold eyes, those calculating eyes.“I was never meant to be born. You knew that, and I know that.”The boy that was her brother knitted his brows, turned his nose up at her. As if he didn’t know that she was aware of that much—that her existence was a fluke. Thumbing at the pocket of his hand-me-down slacks, the boy that was her brother remained silent.“And that I was born… it was only to be by your side.” Ronnie felt the warmth of tears burning the backs of her eyeballs. She grit her teeth against the urge to let them spill, forcing them back. “We were wretched things, ravenous crawling beasts that could never be domesticated. We never needed anything but one another… or, perhaps more accurately… I never needed anything other than you, at my side.”As if to mock her, the boy that was her brother strode forward and sat up on the arm of her chair. He had his back resting against her shoulder, bearing down on her with all of his weight. One foot dangled, while the other remained perched on the chair’s side. Rude. Sloppy. He didn’t need to put on airs for her.“And now, I…” Ronnie said. Her chest throbbed, searing pain filling in the gaps of her being, overriding the numbness she had forced upon herself. She felt her throat catch as she spoke further, hating how vulnerable she sounded, “I don’t have that. I don’t want anything else, but I cannot have what I truly want, not anymore. How can I go on like that?”The boy that was her brother tilted his neck back, rested the back of his head atop hers. He remained silent, but somehow, Ronnie knew he had that self-assured smirk on his face.It isn’t what she wanted. But even if he was silent, Dio was here with her. Some part of him was here, at her side. With tears rolling down her cheeks, Ronnie let herself smile, her hand curling into a tight grip against her face.“I suppose I’ll always be that terrified little thing, won’t I?”