George Joestar the second rifled through the scattered contents of the attic.Left to his own devices and with ought many other unexhausted options he took to rummaging through his mother's old belongings.Wooden trunks were shifted out of the way forming a path that left other old nick-knacks scattered about the dimly lit room.The thirteen year-old boy sat hunched over a curious oak chest.The wood itself was of fine quality but the finish seemed to be chipped,cracked and peeling;dark marks of old flames marred it's once glossy surface.His fingers gently traced the intricate leaf-like pattern that was carved into the rim of the lid.With untouched golden paint the initials J.J. could clearly be made out.The antique clearly held some sort of story judging from it still being kept here and despite the rather rough appearance there was an entrancing quality to it.Those initials were familiar,they matched the second pair on the inner inscription of his mother's ring he'd only seen it once but they were the same.The old chest could've only belonged to his father,a man he had never met.Erina,his mother rarely spoke of him in full sentences.Much like her speaking of the man George's mental image of him was fragmented.He knew better than to press for details,she would've complied if he asked but the times when he caught her reminiscing warded him off from doing it.She'd look at him like she was in another time and when she'd come back to the present her face lose all it's life.Robert and he on a few occasions had shared a few words about his father.They were always hazy but they gave a tiny window of insight that he was grateful for.Usually they were just little anecdotes,how he acted,how he spoke,his sense of justice,what he looked like.They still stuck out in his mind.
"A giant of a man,handsome face with a soul that burned with the fire of justice.He believed everyone was at least a little good inside"He could clearly hear Robert's deep sigh in his mind."I never knew what he saw in me."Those were the only fleeting glimpses he had of his late father.
But right in front of him was a chest of his belongings.What was he really like?With everything that he was told about his father was treated like it were some kind of mythos,like his father was a man out of a fable.It never felt like he was being told about a real man,about his father.Someone he should rightly know.He wished that he could meet him;get to know him from other sources than old stories and mysterious chests from the attic.He took what he could get though and hoped the box held things that were important like pictures or old belongings.Maybe then he'd have a little better chance at knowing who he really was.
Thankfully,the thing didn't seem to have a lock.George opened it carefully,hands daring only handle the wood as if were a fragile piece of glass,like inside of that damaged wooden chest were treasures lost to the March of time.The inside was plain and unmarked by the scorch marks and held what would be ordinary items if not for the man who had owned them;various pens and pencils,a series of well-worn journals,a book on Aztec culture with many of it's old pages dog-eared and bookmarked,and a white handkerchief with the same initials as on the chest in one corner was a faint rusty brown stain.Picking out what looked to be the oldest and most worn journal George began to read the rough script.
"1880,Father just told me that we will soon have a new addition to our home.His own father has passed recently and Dario had saved father's and my lives years back when I was a baby.The only thing I was told was his name,Dio Brando."
George found the writing strangely comforting,it looked like he would finally get to know his father in a way.But Dio is not a name he recognized.Pressing on,he began to read what was presumably the next day's entry.
"Our new guest arrived today,he's around my age.He seems to be a smart boy but I don't like how abrasive his nature is.He struck Danny upon first sight and wouldn't let me help him carry his bags.I hope we can become friends despite this rough first interaction."
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Forgotten pages
फैनफिक्शन(crosspost from my quotev)(This takes place between parts 1 and 2 of jjba) George II grew up without a father.The only family he ever had was his mother and Speedwagon.He never thought he'd ever get to know the late Jonathan Joestar but maybe he wou...
