Chapter 5: Recipe for Disaster

"Where were you getting your jacket from Miss Cujoh?" Dr. Sika asked, shining a light on the unconscious man's left eye while glancing at Jojo. 

"Oh, I uh, ran out to the dumpsters because they had thrown it away. I know it's kind of dangerous, used needles and all, but my dad gave me this jacket, and I really like it." She held her jacket out slightly, looking at the design on the front and the stains. 

I need to probe for more information on her father, he's a prime target for an ingredient. "What does your father do for work?" 

"He's a researcher on caterpillars and their life cycles; he works at a reserve up in Atlantic City." 

Useless, tell me about his combat prowess you disgusting wretch. "Oh, I have family over there. What's his name, I'll send them his way." 

"Oh, it's uh, Joichiro Cujoh. He's Japanese." 

Fucking lying bitch, I already know it's Jotaro, and now you're trying to feed me some goddamn shit? I should kill you here and now and puppet the information from your cold dead corpse. Actually, that's not a bad idea… 

Dr. Sika removed a small recipe book filled with hundreds of bookmarks, turning to the very end as a title, 'Creating an Undead Army,' shimmered into existence, the ingredient list a wavy 3 lines underneath. Pretty manageable, all things considered. You see, Dr. Sika was not a doctor at all, nor was his name Sika. His name was Etorre Cavalli, and his recipe book was no mere cookbook at all, but his stand, The Recipe. Whenever he had a desire, the recipe book would tell him what he needed to achieve that desire. As he skimmed through the book, one ingredient was repeated more then anything else, one of the only things he had still not managed to find. The blood of a fully realized Joestar. Such bullshit, how is the man that almost singlehandedly managed to kill the greatest vampires in history not 'fully realized?'  

As he furrowed his brow looking at his book, he checked out of the corner of his eye toward Jojo. Fucking bitch isn't even looking at me, I just need you to watch the stupid book so I can see if you are useful to me in any way. Sure, someone took out a couple of my agents, but there's nothing saying it was her. Even if it was, I'm not sure anyone really thought they were the cream of the crop by any means. I can't stake my identity on a hunch that she might be half decent at fighting, I could find or make a billion stand users like that. What I need from her is information on her family. I'll just have to keep sending fighters after Jotaro until he manages to 'realize himself,' however long that takes.  

He laid his book on the man's chest, watching for Jojo's reaction with all the patience of a man who can have anything he could ever want in a matter of days. Wealth beyond his wildest dreams? 5 days. The ability to blend into any situation he could desire? 3 days, not counting mental health breaks. An entire army of stand users at his beck and call? Week and a half, but it was a bitch of a week and a half. Simply trying to find a Joestar somewhere in this world? 2 months, and it was only a gravestone of a man that died in 1889. And that casket was empty, which was just stupid, at least find another body to put inside. If it wasn't for the fact that killing more than one person would need the blood, he would've wiped this whole town off the face of the map the moment his first agent was captured. He might still do it too, once he had his info. Jojo for her part, wasn't even looking at the book, instead opting to press her ear against the unconscious man's chest. 

"Ms. Cujoh? Are you alright?" I don't care about this useless henchman; we both know he's not important. Just hurry up and tell me some useful info about Jotaro.  

It was then that Cavalli noticed, when Jojo had leaned over, her jacket had slipped. And under that jacket, on her left shoulder, was a star shaped birthmark. My god, is that, could it be, is it really what I think it is? The birthmark? This changes everything. Why try and help a 50 year old has-been try and realize anything when I have a Joestar right in front of me that might already be realized? His hands began unconsciously drifting to her, to tear flesh and release blood, just to check, just to see if he could, if he could end his quest right now. 

"Sorry, it's… it's just that I can't really hear a heartbeat. Do you mind checking him again, I really think he might need some serious medical attention." She turned, knocking him out of his daze. 

"I don't need to do that, he's already dead." He placed the book inside his pocket, giving up on trying to bait her for a moment. "He's been dead since at least an hour ago." A lie, Cavalli had injected him with a poison when he had initially checked his heartbeat. "That's why I've been asking for your version of the events. Of course, if we needed to, we could always just head on over to the security room and check the tapes, find out exactly how he unfortunately passed." Another lie, the cameras had been turned off since his team showed up. But it was worth the risk of being caught to see how she would respond. But judging by the look of horror working its way across her face, it would be boring. By God, was she going to confess? Is this what a fully realized Joestar was supposed to look like? It was just… pathetic. 

Jojo felt tears welling up to her eyes. She couldn't even look at the man, no, the corpse next to her. Oh god, this was the second corpse she had touched today. She was gonna be sick, why is this happening to her. She was just having fun with her little fights, but she couldn't handle fucking murder. Oh god, did she kill him? He'd said at least an hour, that would line up with when she was fighting him. Fuck, she couldn't handle jail. She was a weak fragile girl, she was gonna get freaked on or some shit by some mousy girl, she just knew it, it's always the ones you don't expect. Ok, ok, maybe if I confess, I can get off on a manslaughter charge and just get some community service or something. Oh, who am I kidding, that's gotta be the scariest sounding crime, I'm going to jail bro. No time to think, just do something. 

 Jojo swung on Cavalli, knocking him to the ground. She held a foot on his stomach and began pressing down, saying, "Y- you're not gonna tell anyone about this, okay? A-all you're gonna do is say that you tried to save him, and you couldn't hack it." 

Good, at least she isn't completely useless, but I could really do without that stutter. I'll fix it at some point when I start harvesting her for her blood, probably after I make her watch her family slowly run over hot coals. Actually, maybe I'll do razors. Oh well, I'll have all the time in the world once she's fully realized. Now, lets see how good she is at combat. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a knife. 

"I'm not fucking around man!" She stepped on his wrist, pinning it to his chest, then slammed her heel into his throat, probably crushed his windpipe or some shit, I really hope he's not dead too.  

He was in fact, not dead. Nor was his windpipe damaged. Nor was he fazed by the foot still resting directly on his throat. In fact, it didn't look like he was hurt at all. He just smiled, and then swapped the hand his knife was in, stabbing Jojo directly through the leg. The knife seemed to travel easier through the leg the farther it went, sharpening itself on her flesh and bone. He ripped it out, trying to go in for another stab, but Jojo fell back, unable to support herself with just one leg. 

He stood, dusting himself off. He slowly walked, his dress shoes clacking against the tile floor as Jojo tried to back up, to a table or a chair, some kind of support. Cavalli wasn't done though, as he walked over and stabbed straight down, aiming directly for her heart. 

She blocked it, her hand being stabbed all the way to the hilt as she had to support it with her other hand, the knife slowly descending towards her chest as he seemed to be possessed with inhuman strength. It was descending, closer, closer, when suddenly his grip slipped, layers of skin removed as the hilt became slick with blood. Jojo ripped the knife out of her hand, stabbing it directly into his forearm, stabilizing his arm with her injured hand. The knife slammed right into his arm and then stopped. This knife that had so easily cut through her own skin and bone a few seconds ago now pressed harmlessly into his skin. Jojo scrambled back, pushing against the wall for support. He held up his hand as the skin reformed, the flesh forming back over. When was the last time I actually bled? It must have been years. I suppose it was… 

Cavalli watched, and tilted his head a little, thinking, before stepping closer to Jojo, saying, "I don't want to discourage you too much, so I'll tell you what ability you're encountering. I can grant any wish I please, and one of the first ones I granted myself was to be hurt by nothing in the world. The one right after was for asteroids." He leaned in close for that one, a conspiratorial grin on his face. "In fact, almost everything I've done since I entered this room has been a desire granted to me. Blending in anywhere as anyone, a fast acting poison that stops someone's heart and vital functions in seconds, even the minion on the floor back there, his stand was granted because of my ability. Really, I'm invincible, and there's nothing you can do about it." He pulled out a pistol, pointing it at her liver. No need to be lethal for now. "Now, I'm going to shoot you, take back my knife, and you are going to go on a whole quest to find me, growing stronger along the way as you slowly lose allies until it's just you and me in a final battle. Sounds fun, doesn't it? Aren't kids into hero's journeys these days?" 

FUCK FUCK FUCK, HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST A FUCKING GUN. I already can't run at him with my leg all gonked up, and if he shoots me, I'm not convinced he knows what parts aren't going to cause me internal bleeding. Also, goddamn, can I go like an hour without getting threatened by being shot, this is bullshit. Oh, wait shit, he's actually gonna shoot me. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… 

Jojo threw the knife directly at his hand, hoping to do God knows what honestly, horrible move on her part. Miraculously, the knife somehow managed to cut enough of the gun that the firing pin was unable to hit the primer. As Cavalli stared at the knife bouncing of his chest, he looked up to see a chair flying straight at his head. Of course, nothing of note happened to him, but as he stared again, now at the chair bouncing down next to his feet, the most useless attack on his life in months, he was hit by a limping Jojo, a clean uppercut to the face, the second most useless attempt on his life in months. And yet, his head still rocked back, hard, the momentum carrying through to his neck. A lesser man might have even had bones snap, tendons and muscles pushed to their limit. Huh, maybe there's something special about this girl after all. If she was able to hit me that hard with only an arm and a leg, I'd love to see what she could do to a normal person. Maybe I should hire her after this whole debacle is over.  

Jojo stepped back, breathing hard. Fuck, I'm still gonna die. I really don't think I have it in me for another hit, and I can barely stand.  

 Cavalli watched, standing tall over the hunched form of Jojo. He sighed, picking his knife up from off the ground and skimming through his book for a page. Maybe the… well no, I already did that one… perhaps… well, it's a bit cliché, but I suppose it's more of a classic than anything else. He pulled out a long metal rod with a strange claw on the end, in the middle of which sat a needle. He flipped it a couple times, tested the point and then, in one quick motion, stabbed Jojo in the stomach. Jojo folded into it, poison injecting into her bloodstream. 

"That's a poison never seen by mankind, specially crafted by me for the most pain a human can feel. In two months, all of your organs will liquify into a slurry inside your body. I have the antidote, but you'll have to get me to give it to you before time runs out." 

Jojo was dry heaving now, her French toast threatening to come back up. "So… you're just saying I have to beat you up and then I can go back to my life?" 

Cavalli paused, a smile slowly carving into his face. Then, starting as a small chuckle, but quickly growing louder and louder as he stepped away, doubling over as Jojo sat on the floor, taking the leftover bandages from her arm and wrapping them around her leg and hand. 

Finally, he stood, wiping his eyes as he quieted down. "Ah, I think that's the hardest I've laughed in months. God, you really might turn out to be something." He opened his book, finding a blue bookmark and opening the page as a glowing green portal opened behind him. "But I hate to say it, with your stand, you might as well be telling God all you have to do is go up and punch him a little." He stepped through, the scent of seawater wafting through the portal. It seemed to wobble, the portal unstable without Cavalli on the entrance side. It slammed closed, a large gust of wind knocking Jojo over. 

The hospital door slammed open, Wes on the other side panting heavily with Nana Mildred behind him, turquoise vines wrapping around her hand and chest. She pushed past the freak, grabbing Jojo's arm and looking at the bloody bandages hanging loosely from her leg and hand, simply draped over rather than actually wrapped. "Jocelyn. Jocelyn, talk to me, what happened, please, please, talk to me, are you okay?!" 

Jojo stared at her grandmother; the second time she had ever seen the woman stressed in her life. Jojo smiled, then held up a flyer, 'Los Angeles Museum of Art, Grand Reopening.' Nana Mildred took the flyer, just in time for Jojo to pass out, her last conscious sight the rest of the people she had met that day filing in next to her.