[He hadn't wished for the burden of a family legacy to be taken off his shoulders. Other twenty-year-old kids weeks after facing an invincible evil might have said 'nope, I'm done', but not Caesar.]
[Bring him back, he'd demanded angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Kyubey. I don't care what you have to do or where you take me. I wish for Joseph Joestar to still be alive!]
[He had to leave his world for that? So what? He'd find a way back or make one himself. Lisa Lisa and Jojo could handle things in the meantime, if it really had worked. If not, he'd find that white cat thing and shake it until a miracle fell out.]
[For now, Caesar took a deep breath. The sunlight inherent in his blood didn't respond, but the light of a bright afternoon glinted off the golden stone set in his skin--in the center of a vaguely sun-shaped birthmark on the back of his left shoulder. The sleeveless black shirt he wore displayed both that and the left hand which was raised to cover it...a prosthetic made of dark gray metal, stopping halfway up his forearm.]
Santo cielo, this is going to be a long day.
[To say the least.]
[B; pugna cum maga]
That wasn't so difficult.
[Caesar shook out his right hand as though he'd hurt it punching something. Which he probably had--his weapon of choice was a pair of gloves, and his fighting style of 'hit it until it stops moving' was just a little bit reckless. Picking up the Grief Seed that had fallen, he turned to the nearest person with a slight frown.]
Caesar Zeppeli | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure AU
[A; postmeridie]
[He hadn't wished for the burden of a family legacy to be taken off his shoulders. Other twenty-year-old kids weeks after facing an invincible evil might have said 'nope, I'm done', but not Caesar.]
[Bring him back, he'd demanded angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Kyubey. I don't care what you have to do or where you take me. I wish for Joseph Joestar to still be alive!]
[He had to leave his world for that? So what? He'd find a way back or make one himself. Lisa Lisa and Jojo could handle things in the meantime, if it really had worked. If not, he'd find that white cat thing and shake it until a miracle fell out.]
[For now, Caesar took a deep breath. The sunlight inherent in his blood didn't respond, but the light of a bright afternoon glinted off the golden stone set in his skin--in the center of a vaguely sun-shaped birthmark on the back of his left shoulder. The sleeveless black shirt he wore displayed both that and the left hand which was raised to cover it...a prosthetic made of dark gray metal, stopping halfway up his forearm.]
Santo cielo, this is going to be a long day.
[To say the least.]
[B; pugna cum maga]
That wasn't so difficult.
[Caesar shook out his right hand as though he'd hurt it punching something. Which he probably had--his weapon of choice was a pair of gloves, and his fighting style of 'hit it until it stops moving' was just a little bit reckless. Picking up the Grief Seed that had fallen, he turned to the nearest person with a slight frown.]
You didn't get hurt, did you?
[C; wildcard]
[anytime, anywhere, hit me up i'll be there]