I Got 99 Problems And I Caused All Of Them

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She couldn't let herself get close. He would come to her, and she would lead him through a maze of acid. To protect herself from it's volatile properties, she would use the same technique she's seen many times with Ghiaccio and the dog and even the boss. Overlap herself with her stand, let it shield her from her own weapons. "I won't let you even touch me."

Such a confident remark rubbed the man the wrong way, a swirling hatred that lingered in his gut and ate away at his own body, but (Y/N) knew it to be something else. She worked directly under Polpo for so long, do you think she wouldn't be able to piece together a plan despite her lack of fighting ability? That man was constantly eating, and once he explained the bellowing hunger as a small price to pay. She always thought it was just him being a pig and wanting to eat, but that didn't make sense if he was always hungry. But the arrow and its ability to constantly heal, she's heard for her friends the feeling of being stabbed by that arrow, and her own feeling to add on, a wound that once would bleed nonstop would disappear in seconds. Sure, such an object exists, but then where did the energy to sustain that superhuman regeneration come from? Well, it was obvious to say it came from one's own body. Polpo ate constantly to store fat to ensure his own survival need be an emergency, but not even the arrow could save a dead man from a bullet in the head.

To kill that man, she would either have to bleed him dry, which isn't exactly ideal since she didn't know if blood was lost or replaced, or deplete his energy supply with constant regeneration. A man with such a build wouldn't last long against the barrage of burns that tore through his stand and him. His body would burn through whatever he ate, then his fat, and then muscles and tissues, and soon, with the loss of muscle mass, important and not so important, the body cannot function.

She's already noticed his regeneration slowing down, and apparently, so has he. He cannot continue to be dragged around after her, the use of his stand is nothing but a chain that binds him to her control, and he can't have that. But how can he bring her closer? It didn't matter. (Y/N) was beginning to understand her ability to control. She was evolving as a person, she was standing up to her fear, and this newfound confidence would surely last her through the fight. It wasn't her fault she got sick that day, it wasn't her fault she had an uncanny similarity to her mother's baby sister, it wasn't her fault she just wanted a friend to keep her company because she hated being alone. She couldn't control those, any of those, but she chose to continue living out of spite, she chose to live without roots or name, and now she chose to live for those she knew were important to her. Even if there were points in her life she wish she could change, there's so much for her beyond the past, there's so much waiting for her, that her every action could dictate.

She has control, why didn't she realize that? A cryptic smile spread across her face at his hesitance, and she would take full advantage of it, just as she did her. She's soaked in information like a sponge, quietly storing them in that brain of hers for the right moment to put it to use. That feeling again, the feeling of power, of control. Her hand outstretched, cloaked in her glassy pink stand, their hair came undone to reveal beautiful golden (E/C) eyes. She uttered a string of words that she had almost forgotten about, but the intensity of her determination stuck to her like glue. "Soda City Funk: Absolute Zero."

Her acid burned, scorching skin like the summertime sun. The heat that scalded her enemy launched him into the air with a gravity that could send him unconscious, so suddenly cutting as if he slammed into a wall. Absolute Zero created a box that sorted items inside the invisible walls, the hottest item would obviously be at time, the coldest item would be forced to the bottom at almost breakneck speeds. This wasn't gravity, no, this was complete and utter fucking control. Her long distance stand was perfect long distance, and it was his mistake to try and find another game plan at the wrong moment. She sat comfortably out of the domain, her necklace on the bottom of the box as the coolest object in it. She sat comfortably on the floor to take a moment to breathe and recuperate, watching as he struggled to lift and arm off the crushing force of her stand, magnetism connecting to the metal in his sunglasses and oscillating the magnetic field in the metal, heating it up until soon, he was no longer the item stuck on the roof.

Landing on the ground in front of her, he aimed his own weapons at her. He would erase it. He would erase it all. He could do that now, it didn't matter who saw or what happened if he could just erase them too. His morals were crumbling around him, but it didn't matter, did morals matter when you were on top of the fucking world?

Quickly, at almost the same moment, (Y/N) did the same, saving the last amount of acid she had left for this moment. He would die soon, but she wouldn't relax until she killed him herself. If he tried anything, she would shoot him and vice versa, but this wasn't mutually assured destruction. What was going on in their enemy's head at this moment? Well, it didn't matter.

Perhaps they were too similar in some way, because they both shot at the same time.

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