JoJo's Bizzare Ships

Luxury in Hell (2)

“Thanks man,”Josuke patted the other’s arm giving him a genuinely grateful smile. He reached into their pack, and pulled out a map: he had crossed out all of the major supply areas that Jotaro frequently made runs to, he had been nowhere to be found in any of them. Now: they just had to choose a direction, and head there. He knew that The Garden’s wall would stop them from traveling too far north before having to go around it, so, he decided to head that way. Perhaps Jotaro had tried to make it to the radio tower that was on the other side of the massive structure. Josuke took their marker, and drew a route – one that avoided any and all alleyways, they were deathtraps. Often Fallens would pile up on top of each other to sleep in them because they were usually dark, and musty: just how they liked it.

Okuyasu had taken a seat beside him, and he opened up their backpack – finding that there was a single meal left or them. They didn’t eat three meals a day, that would be ridiculous, it was one a day: and this would be it until they raided another store or house.

“Here Jo, we need to eat after that.”
The Joestar looks up, and he shakes his head: he pushes the meal being offered to him towards the other man. It was a meek granola bar and some trial mix. Not much of a meal now that he really looked at it.

“You need it more than I do. I’m injured so I won’t be able to fight off the Fallen very well. You’ll have to cover me. Anyway, I don’t think I can eat. My stomach is turning...I think I’ll just sleep: we’ll leave tomorrow in the morning...” his voice was already starting to trail as exhaustion pulled him into its embrace. Okuyasu frowned as he watched his companion fall against the floor softly, seeming to pass out.

He sighed, and he stuffed the trail mix back into their back for Josuke in the morning, he leaned against the door: feeling the dents that the Fallen had made. He munched on the granola bar, staring up at the ceiling. “Where in the world are you Jotaro...?” he didn’t receive any answer. After he finished his bleak meal, he laid down beside his purple-haired companion. He glanced over, and daring to, he snuggled up against the other man, smiling softly at his warmth. Okuyasu buried his head into the other’s chest – listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. His face began to tint with a pink-flush. There was no real time for romance in this world they lived in, but, he still intertwined their hands together.

The wails of the Fallen made it difficult to find peace. 

[▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎]

They were walking down the street: Josuke had the map out checking their path one more time so that he committed it to memory. This morning had been strange, rather than waking up in pain and still exhausted – he had felt refreshed. His arm didn’t even hurt to move anymore and while the wound was still there, a good portion of it had healed. He guessed that it hadn’t been as deep as he had once thought. Josuke sighed, and he turned around.

“Okuyasu!”he hissed out, not wanting to wake any Fallen that may be hiding from the daylight as they slept. His companion was lagging behind. “Hurry your ass up! I want to reach the convivence store before its dark!”

“Listen man,” the light-eyed male groaned as he ran to catch up, he sat there panting. “I didn’t catch a wink of sleep last night. I’m exhausted. I don’t know why you’re feeling so good.”

Josuke sighs, and he takes their pack from the man, “Here. I’ll carry this, you just try and keep up. We don’t need to end up losing sight of each other.”

A trashcan rattled beside them: it was sitting in the alleyway that was across from them, luckily empty of any of the bloodthirsty creatures – however, both men still jumped. From the holder upon his belt, he pulled a sword. Unluckily enough for them, the only way to kill a Fallen was by slicing off its head completely, meaning bullets and guns in general could only be used to slow them down: but could never kill. Unless you had a gun that could blow their head off in one shot. That was Okuyasu’s specialty as he pulled a double barrel shotgun off his back, it had even been modified to give it extra kick: a normal person’s shoulder would be dislocated using it – but, Okuyasu used his prosthetic arm to shoot. They stood there hardly daring to breath as the trashcan rattled again.