Sticky Fingers' POV:
My name is Jeff Howard. Before I became Sticky Fingers, I was 25 years old. I boasted pale skin, long auburn locks cascading down my back, and piercing dark blue eyes. Charleston, West Virginia, was my birthplace, a city where my parents also hailed from. My mother toiled in a bakery, while my father navigated the world of numbers as an accountant, both steadfastly rooted in our hometown.
We lived a pretty decent life, our bonds strong, yet beneath the surface lurked a shadow I carried alone.
I have trusting issues.
Though I do trust my family but it's others out there that I can't trust. Because I trusted a person once and it led to some problems, and I had to pay the price for it. But delving into that discussion is a journey for another time.
Trapped within this new world since I receive this mysterious package, and the discovery of the Stand arrow amidst the catacombs adds another layer of intrigue to my predicament. Its presence in such a hidden locale is both astonishing and unsettling. How has it remained concealed from prying eyes for so long? Nevertheless, the imminent danger it poses in the wrong hands compels me to abandon my clandestine refuge for far too long.
"Time to move out." I muttered, a sense of urgency coursing through me as I grasp the arrow and begin my ascent by opening a zipper on the ceiling. With each zipper I opened, I inch closer to the surface.
Third Person POV:
Having traversed through multiple zippers, Jeff has now reached onto the surface, finding himself nestled within the confines of an alleyway. With a swift motion, he extends his zipper arm, latching onto the edge of a nearby rooftop and effortlessly hoisting himself upward, ascending to the apex with a fluid grace that belies the gravity of his situation.
Bounding from one rooftop to the next, Jeff's movements are as agile as they are purposeful. Pausing atop a chimney, he surveys the sprawling cityscape before him, its illuminated skyline a mesmerizing tapestry of lights twinkling in the night. The beauty of the scene momentarily captivates him, offering a brief respite from the urgency of his mission.
"Beautiful," Jeff murmured, his gaze drifting across the nocturnal landscape before him, momentarily entranced by the city's allure. However, his reverie is abruptly interrupted as he spies movement atop a neighboring rooftop. "I don't have time for this," he chides himself, preparing to depart, but his instincts prick with unease as the figure begins to approach.
Without hesitation, Jeff vaults down the chimney, alighting onto the deserted street below with a silent grace. Fortune smiles upon him as the absence of onlookers spares him from unwanted attention. His eyes soon alight upon a nearby lamppost, an opportunity beckoning amidst the shadows. Swiftly, he conjures a zipper, revealing a concealed hollow within.
Perfect place to hide.
Thus, he slips into the hollow space and sealed the zipper behind him. Now in the hollow space, he waited patiently with bated breath and decided to listen. Soon, he heard the sound of something landing on the ground. Perhaps the figure he saw is now on the street looking for him. And so, Jeff braces himself for the impending confrontation.
'How was he able to spot me on the rooftop though? Does he have a good eye or something?' Jeff mused, his mind grappling with the mystery. As he continues to eavesdrop, the voices of two individuals reach his ears—one speaking in English, the other in Japanese.
"Are you sure you saw a Stand?" asked one in english.
"Hai, Dāmein." affirmed the other in Japanese.
'So it was the other one who saw me. But I could have sworn I saw only one person on the rooftop.' Jeff pondered, his curiosity piqued. With cautious precision, he peered through a slender opening in the zipper, observing the pair. The first figure, clad in a green hooded sweater with a hood over his head, gray jeans, and brandished an ornate knife of some kind.
But it was the second person that caught his interest the most.
Suspended midair, adorned in a purple traditional samurai armor, this enigmatic figure bore the visage of a skeletal warrior, shrouded in swirling black mist that coalesced around his form and defied gravity as it billowed in the night air.
This was...
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SCP-5175, also known as 'Death Knife'.
“He is long gone then. Man, I really wanted to meet a Stand, you know that eye to eye, Hanzo.” lamented the young man in the hoodie.
"Anata ni chansu ga otozuremasu (You'll get your chance.)" reassured the Skeleton samurai named Hanzo.
"Let's hope so, Hanzo." The young man replied.
"So it was that samurai Hanzo who spotted me," Jeff surmised silently as he hid inside the hollow space, overhearing their conversation.
Suddenly, Hanzo's aura shifts, his attention drawn to the lampost where Jeff lurks in hiding.
With a menacing aura, Hanzo utters, "Kakusu koto wa mada desu. Detekoi (Hiding is futile. Come on out)"
Jeff, being a very cultured guy, understood the command and was stunned.
'What?! He sensed my presence?! This guy is dangerous.' Jeff acknowledges internally. With no other choice, he resolves to reveal himself, unzipping the zipper and emerging from the lamppost, exposing himself to both Hanzo and his user.
"So, you've found me?" Jeff's voice carried a weight of resignation.
"Hai," affirmed Hanzo, his skeletal countenance betraying no emotion.
Their gazes locked in a silent duel, an aura of tension thickening the air around them as the intensity of their confrontation escalated with each passing moment.
"ゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴ"
"ゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴ"
Just as the standoff reaches its zenith, Damien abruptly intervenes, rushing to Jeff's side and extending his hand in a gesture of peace.
“Before you two try to kill each other, I want to say I'm a huge fan of JoJo and it's such an honor to meet a Stand like you face to face. I wish I could you tell you my name, but-” Damien's words trail off as Jeff interrupts.
"Damein, right?"
"You overheard our conversation?" Damien's surprise is palpable.
"Yes," Jeff confirms, releasing Damien's hand.
"Alright, hear me out. The people I work with want you to come with me," Damien begins, his tone earnest.
"Are they the trusting type?" Jeff's skepticism is evident.
"I assure you, they are trustworthy," Damien insists, seeking to allay Jeff's concerns. He turns to Hanzo for confirmation, receiving a simple affirmation.
"Sorry, but I'm not going anywhere. Even if you try to force me to, I won't." Jeff states firmly, his resolve unshaken.
Hanzo, noticing the Stand Arrow on Jeff's hand, gently places a hand on Damien's shoulder to draw his attention.
"Sutandoarō," Hanzo utters, directing Damien's gaze towards the arrow.
"Is that a Stand arrow?!" Damien's eyes widened with recognition.
"Yes, now leave," Jeff replied tersely, his tone brooking no argument.
"Dude, we just want to help," Damien persisted, his voice tinged with earnestness.
“And I don't need it. If I surrender myself and the Stand arrow to the ones you work for... there will be deadly consequences.” Jeff warned, his resolve unwavering.
“Look, just come with me, and I assure that the arrow will be in perfect hands.” Damien pleaded, attempting to reason with Jeff.
Just as Jeff was about to dismiss them and depart, Hanzo's keen perception caught a subtle shift. The Stand arrow, once solid and imposing, began to shrink before his eyes.
"Nani?" Hanzo exclaimed, his tone betraying a mix of confusion and alarm.
Sensing a strange emptiness in his grasp, Jeff's heart sank as he realized the arrow had vanished from his hand.
"What?!" he echoed his disbelief, his gaze darting around in search of the missing artifact.
“I could have sworn the arrow was in his hand for just moments ago. Where did it go?” Damien questioned, perplexed by the sudden disappearance.
Knowing this wasn't those two, Jeff realized something, “Damn it! We're not the only one's here!” he declared, his voice laced with urgency as the gravity of the situation became clear.
The trio scanned their surroundings in a frantic search for the elusive culprit who had absconded with the shrunken arrow. It was Hanzo who first noticed a peculiar sight upon the ground—a diminutive humanoid figure, no larger than a mouse, with a pointed green index finger and clutching the arrow which had now shrunk to the size of a rice grain.
"Anata o mitsuketa!" Hanzo's cry pierced the air as he lunged towards the tiny figure, but it deftly evaded his grasp, darting nimbly out of reach.
Jeff and Damien, alerted by Hanzo's actions, followed his gaze and beheld the astonishing sight before them.
"Is that who I think it is?" Damien's voice held a mix of disbelief and awe.
"To think that... that Stand was here," Jeff murmured in astonishment, his mind racing to comprehend the implications of this unexpected encounter.
Without hesitation, Jeff propelled himself towards the humanoid, determination etched upon his features. But before he could reach it, the figure suddenly sprang into action, growing back to its original size in a blur of motion. With lightning speed, it delivered a devastating uppercut to Jeff, followed by a powerful spin kick that sent him hurtling through the air, crashing into Damien with bone-jarring force. The unexpected assault left the duo reeling, their senses reeling as they struggled to regain their bearings in the face of this unexpected adversary.
With a speed that defied human capabilities, Hanzo unleashed a devastating punch that sent the humanoid hurtling several meters away, crashing into a nearby lamppost with a resounding thud.
"Ow!" the humanoid grunted in pain as it struggled to extricate itself from the wreckage.
"Can you please get off," Damien quipped as he rose to his feet, stepping away from Jeff.
Jeff followed suit, shaking off the effects of the earlier blow, and together the trio cautiously approached the humanoid, who now leaned against the lamppost with its back against it. This humanoid was...
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Little feet.
"You zink you got me?" He sneered in a thick German accent.
“Give me the arrow and I promise I won't cut you to pieces with my zippers,” Jeff said threateningly.
Undeterred by the threat, Little Feet shrank to the size of a mouse, clutching the arrow tightly. With a swift leap, he vanished into the darkness of a nearby drainage pipe which the others didn't notice.
"No!" A guttural roar of frustration escaped Jeff's lips as he pounded the ground, creating a zipper before him. With each rippling motion, he forged a path through the ground, relentless in his pursuit of Little Feet and the stolen arrow.
“Come on, Hanzo. We're following them.” Damien urged, determination etched into his voice.
With a solemn nod, Hanzo and Damien transformed into wisps of black mist, seamlessly melding into the shadows as they entered the pipeline in pursuit of Little Feet.
Inside the pipeline, Little Feet rode the Stand Arrow like a surfboard, navigating the water current with the skills he had in his homeworld.
'I need to meet up mitt ze fish boy at ze river. Zankfully zis pipeline vill lead me schtraight towart ze Seine river. Sticky Fingers, I'fe been spyingkt on you fur two days undt vas vaitingkt fur ze perfect opportunity to take ze arrow! I know goingkt head on against you vould be too much. But vhen you use schtrategy undt patience. Zingkt's become so much easier fur you!' He reflected inwardly, gazing forward to see the light at the end of the tunnel and soon moving out of the pipe, finding himself he had reached the river, a sense of triumph washed over him.
"Yes, I made it!" he exclaimed jubilantly.
But his celebration was short-lived as a sudden emergence of black mist heralded the arrival of the trio. A zipper materialized next to the riverbank, and with a swift motion, Jeff, Damien, and Hanzo emerged, their resolve palpable in the air.
"Ariiii!"
"Kocchi Wo Miro!!"
As time seemed to slow to a crawl, Little Feet turned to face his adversaries, bracing himself for the inevitable clash that lay ahead.
"Ohhh... Myyy... Gaaaaad!"
As the slow-motion sequence reached its climax, the trio's outstretched hands mere inches away from grabbing Little Feet. Unbeknownst to them, a presence lurked beneath the surface of the river, its watchful gaze fixed upon the unfolding confrontation.
The slow motion sequence halted when a massive geyser of water erupted from the river with tremendous force, engulfing the quartet in its watery embrace. Jeff, Damien, and Hanzo were propelled through the air, hurtling towards a nearby wooden bench with a resounding crash.
Amidst the chaos, Little Feet found himself ensnared by the humanoid fish, their bodies crashing into the river with a splash.
"The hell was that?!?" Jeff exclaimed, his voice filled with bewilderment as he and Damien staggered to his feet, their eyes trained on Little Feet and the mysterious fish-man.
Unable to see the fish-man's face, obscured as it was submerged in the water's surface, the trio could only watch in astonishment as they struggled to comprehend the unexpected turn of events.
"Vell it vas nice knowingkt you zree. Bye!" Little Feet taunted mockingly, waving his hand as the fish humanoid swiftly propelled them down the river.
"You're going nowhere, you little bastard!" Jeff's voice boomed with anger as he lashed out with his zipper-arm, snaring the fish humanoid's leg in a desperate attempt to halt their escape. But his efforts proved futile as he was pulled into the water, dragged along by the powerful current.
In a swift display of teamwork, Hanzo propelled Damien towards Jeff's direction before vanishing. Damien clung tightly to Jeff's neck, their fates now intertwined as they were swept along the rushing river.
~ JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Overdrive (Instrumental recreation) ~
(0:59)
"Hanzo, get up close and personal with little feet!" Damien shouted over the rushing water, his voice tinged with urgency.
Responding to Damien's command, Hanzo materialized behind Little Feet, poised to strike. But Little Feet, anticipating the attack, swiftly countered, delivering a punishing blow to Hanzo's abdomen. Undeterred, Hanzo deftly evaded a slashing motion from Little Feet's hand, his movements fluid and precise as he prepared to engage the elusive foe in combat.
With a grimace, Little feet unleashed a flurry of slashes upon Hanzo, but the skilled warrior deftly evaded and parried each strike with flawless precision.
“Watashi wa anata no kyōbō-sei o shōsan shimasu,” Hanzo complimented his opponent, acknowledging his skill before swiftly delivering a palm strike to Little Feet's chest, momentarily stunning him. “Shikashi, sore wa koko made shika dekimasen.”
Meanwhile, Jeff and Damien continued to be dragged along by the river's current, their frustration mounting with each passing moment.
"Can't you just reel us in?!" Damien shouted above the rushing water.
"Working on it!" Jeff responded determinedly, quickly deploying his zipper-arm to pull himself and Damien closer to the fish humanoid.
Sensing the movement, the fish humanoid glanced back at Little Feet with a knowing look.
"Hold on," he said in an Australian accent, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief.
Knowing his intentions, Little Feet wraps his arms around the fish man's neck, and the latter dives into the water, initiating a rapid spin that sends Jeff and Damien whirling around like a saucer. Hanzo, undeterred by the tumultuous motion, maintained his grasp on the fish man's leg, joining in the dizzying rotation.
"These guys are really desperate," the fish man muttered to himself, his determination unwavering as he propelled himself out of the water like a missile.
Out of nowhere, a WW2 British spitfire plane came flying towards the fish man with astonishing speed. With lightning reflexes, the fish man reached out and clamped his clawed hands around the plane's right wing, anchoring himself firmly to the airborne craft as it soared through the sky.
Caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events, Jeff, Damien, and Hanzo found themselves suspended in mid-air, their precarious situation taking on a new dimension of danger as they struggled to maintain their balance amidst the swirling chaos.
"You're late," the fish man remarked coolly to the pilot within the plane's cockpit, his tone tinged with amusement.
Meanwhile, Jeff's frustration continued to mount as he clung stubbornly to the fish man's leg amidst the chaos.
“This day just keeps getting worse. First, Little Feet then that fish man and now a goddamn plane comes out of nowhere. What's next? A goddamn pillar man will show up?!” Jeff vented his frustration, his irritation palpable.
"You do notice that we're in the sky, right?" Damien interjected, his voice laced with bemusement.
Ignoring Damien's comment, Jeff glanced downward, noting with growing unease that their altitude was steadily increasing, carrying them farther and farther from solid ground.
"Okay. I'm reeling myself in," Jeff declared resolutely, preparing to retract his zipper-arm and regain control of their precarious situation.
In the meantime, Hanzo swiftly ascended the plane's fuselage, balancing expertly on the right wing as he prepared to join the fray. Sensing the shifting dynamics of the situation, Little Feet disengaged from the fish man and climbed up to stand on the plane's left wing.
As Jeff and Damien clambered onto the right wing, their determined expressions mirrored the intensity of the situation unfolding before them. With a shared understanding of the necessity to maintain balance, they positioned themselves firmly, their focus fixed on the adversaries standing defiantly on the opposite wing.
~ Music Pauses ~
The trio who were standing on the right wing stared menacingly at the two Stands standing on the left wing. Little Feet and the fish man who turned out to be Dark Blue Moon.
“Now look, I'll make this simple for you three. Jump off of this plane and land in the water safely, and let us take the arrow,” Dark Blue Moon declared, his voice carrying a hint of authority. "Or we can have an all-out duel while this plane is flying. So what's your decision?"
"Just give me the damn Arrow," Jeff retorted, his frustration evident in his tone.
"No can do," a new voice with a female British accent interjected, drawing the trio's attention to the cockpit.
They beheld a young woman, approximately 20 years old, with fiery red hair tied up in pigtail braids. Her hazel eyes sparkled as she addressed them. Standing tall at 6 feet 1 inch, her slender frame clad in a dark blue turtleneck top, blue jeans, and vibrant red Adidas shoes. Aviator goggles adorned her face, adding to her striking appearance.
"Who are you?" Jeff asked her with a wary look.
“The name's Katey!” she replied with a sweet smile, her demeanor warm and inviting.
Jeff's curiosity piqued, he questioned, "This plane? How were you able to get it functioning? These were used during World War II."
Katey's smile took on a mysterious edge as she responded, her voice tinged with intrigue. Then, without warning, both Katey and the plane began to glow with a dark blue aura, enveloping them in an otherworldly light. Suddenly, a humanoid figure materialized atop the cockpit window.
The humanoid bore a striking resemblance to Katey, sharing her height and build, but there were distinct differences. Clad in aviator attire reminiscent of World War II pilots, the female humanoid's navy blue skin contrasted sharply with its short teal hair. Its aviator goggles glowed with an ethereal light, and a gas mask adorned its mouth, adding to its enigmatic appearance.
This was a Stand.
"Is that a Stand?!" Jeff exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock.
“Yup, this is my Stand. I call it 'Touch the Skies'!” Katey declared proudly, her smile unwavering, “She isn't built for combat and is quite weak. But is responsible for keeping this plane in a functional state.”
"What the hell does that mean?!" Jeff demanded, his frustration mounting at the lack of clarity.
"Sorry, I can't tell you more about my Stand. That would make it too easy for you to deal with us," Katey replied cryptically, her tone tinged with reluctance.
'So that Stand is keeping this plane running? But if it's weak as she says then that means we can take it out easily, but with those two it's a different matter.' Jeff thought.
As Touch the Skies vanished, the plane continued its steady course, carrying the group onwards. The trio looked down to see how high they were before looking at Little Feet and Dark Blue Moon. Katey opens the cockpit window and Little Feet throws the Arrow to her as she catches it before closing the window.
"Hanzo. You and I will deal with Dark Blue Moon and Damein you will deal with Little Feet." Jeff instructed, his tone firm.
"You're actually trusting us?" Damien questioned, surprised by the sudden display of faith.
"Trust is earned. And if you want to earn my trust, you're gonna help me get the arrow back," Jeff replied, his gaze unwavering.
"Sure, man," Damien agreed, determination gleaming in his eyes.
“Soredewa hajimemashou (Then let us begin)” Hanzo declared, his voice resonating with resolve as they prepared to confront their adversaries once more.
