[Okay but so: Jean-Pierre Polnareff is, in fact, used to the strange and bizarre. Yesterday his soul had been residing in a turtle, safe and sound, and he'd been sharing beers with his fifteen year old mafioso boss, who wanted to first discuss strategy and then relationship conflicts with him. So like . . . waking up in a strange city, with people kind of weirdly overenthusiastic in their friendliness, isn't actually all that strange.
What is strange is that he does, in fact, have a body. He very much has a body, and it's the same body that had died some two months ago. The metallic legs still work, and he's down one eye again, and honestly, all of that is fine. It's weird! But it's fine.
But they hadn't given him a wheelchair.
Like, who oversaw this kidnapping, exactly? Who the hell took a guy's soul, resurrected his body, made sure it was his body sans legs, and then forgot to provide a wheelchair? Who did that? It wasn't even evil, it was just a hugely dick move. Like, be evil if you want, but at least be classy about it.
At least those overenthusiastic locals had come in handy. It's not a proper wheelchair, but it's a seat, at least, and for now that's enough. He's surrounded by pamphlets, and he's trying to read them, he really is-- but the first monster-person he sees, he calls out to.]
Come here-- yeah, you! I want to ask you some questions. I have a few names I want to ask you about . . .
[Scenario Four - In Which Our Hero Is Hunted]
[This would have turned out so different if he'd had Silver Chariot.
Four assholes with torches and swords? Psh, no problem. Chariot would have cut them to ribbons. But without Chariot, without any kind of weapon, with only the most minimal of monster changes affecting him, Polnareff had no choice but to run. He might have been able to tear open a throat or two, but he wasn't about to get himself killed (again) just because he was feeling too brave.
At least he's being clever about it. He doesn't just flee blindly-- he loses himself in Bavan's alleys, hiding behind dumpsters and in the shadows of doors, throwing his voice and tossing rocks to mislead his opponents. But they're clever, and he can't outwit them forever-- so perhaps this would be the time for someone to swoop in and save him, hm?]
[Note: tags will come from both this account and silvercrusader!]
Jean Pierre Polnareff | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Part 5
[Okay but so: Jean-Pierre Polnareff is, in fact, used to the strange and bizarre. Yesterday his soul had been residing in a turtle, safe and sound, and he'd been sharing beers with his fifteen year old mafioso boss, who wanted to first discuss strategy and then relationship conflicts with him. So like . . . waking up in a strange city, with people kind of weirdly overenthusiastic in their friendliness, isn't actually all that strange.
What is strange is that he does, in fact, have a body. He very much has a body, and it's the same body that had died some two months ago. The metallic legs still work, and he's down one eye again, and honestly, all of that is fine. It's weird! But it's fine.
But they hadn't given him a wheelchair.
Like, who oversaw this kidnapping, exactly? Who the hell took a guy's soul, resurrected his body, made sure it was his body sans legs, and then forgot to provide a wheelchair? Who did that? It wasn't even evil, it was just a hugely dick move. Like, be evil if you want, but at least be classy about it.
At least those overenthusiastic locals had come in handy. It's not a proper wheelchair, but it's a seat, at least, and for now that's enough. He's surrounded by pamphlets, and he's trying to read them, he really is-- but the first monster-person he sees, he calls out to.]
Come here-- yeah, you! I want to ask you some questions. I have a few names I want to ask you about . . .
[Scenario Four - In Which Our Hero Is Hunted]
[This would have turned out so different if he'd had Silver Chariot.
Four assholes with torches and swords? Psh, no problem. Chariot would have cut them to ribbons. But without Chariot, without any kind of weapon, with only the most minimal of monster changes affecting him, Polnareff had no choice but to run. He might have been able to tear open a throat or two, but he wasn't about to get himself killed (again) just because he was feeling too brave.
At least he's being clever about it. He doesn't just flee blindly-- he loses himself in Bavan's alleys, hiding behind dumpsters and in the shadows of doors, throwing his voice and tossing rocks to mislead his opponents. But they're clever, and he can't outwit them forever-- so perhaps this would be the time for someone to swoop in and save him, hm?]
[Note: tags will come from both this account and