aint sayin hes a golddigger

Diego 'DIO' Brando. Professional horse jockey. Professional dinosaur. Citta Alveare Affiliated Rank: Citizen Housing: w-1 Abilities: Can Morph into a dinosaur for 5 minutes a day Weapon: BB Gun Given: His horse, Silver Bullet

[we2become1]

dino skin is in // diego brando

[we2become1]

“No, I don’t know who that is. I apologise,” she said honestly, closing her eyes. In truth, he looked a little like Gio; if not just a tad smaller in stature and size. “I haven’t met him yet, either.”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

Well great, now he sounded like an idiot and an asshole, and if he couldn’t stand being one how could he handle being both.

“Can I ask who I remind you of though?” He really wanted to know if there were more universes of him around. Even if that wasn’t the case though, he was still curious.

[we2become1]

dino skin is in // diego brando

[we2become1]

Oh.

Well, she didn’t recognize that name - at all, actually. This clearly wasn’t Gio’s relative. He didn’t really seem to fit in, either. Was he from a more rural area? She scratched her cheek slowly. “Sorry, I got you confused for someone else.”

“You look like someone I know,” she admitted vaguely, waving her hand from side to side.

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

Looks like someone she knows. She must mean that guy. Diego could see the resemblance (though if you asked him he was much more handsome than Dio was).

“Did you think I was Dio Brando? I’ve met him too.”

[we2become1]

dino skin is in // diego brando

Having found herself shopping for makeup, her lips were pursed as she tried to make a selection. With no real parental figure currently in her life, she didn’t find harm in wearing some makeup. Having made her selection and exited the store, she noticed a man who… was rather peculiar, actually. More familiar than not, but she wasn’t sure why. She’d never seen the man in her life.

“Uh,” she said, tapping his shoulder lightly. “Excuse me for asking, but, like, what’s your name?”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

Diego was glad he’d learned about some of the technological advances of the future. Did you know there was a box you could put money in and then a variety of beverages would spill out when you pushed their buttons? It was fast and incredible. How did the sodas get in there who did this.

He saw a girl walking up to him after he bent down to get his soda. Oh. Oh now she was talking to him.

“Well, some people here don’t seem to recognize it, but I am Diego Brando.”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

If You’d Like To Place A Call Please Hang Up and Try Again [[closed; bururururu]]

[bururururu]

Doppio felt like he could strangle this man.

In fact, he probably would soon enough. Though he wanted to get his point across first. Not to mention he kept speaking even more nonsense. 1891? No way in hell—it was already 2001. This man truly was stuck in the past.

“It’s 2001 you complete imbecile! Did you hit your head hard enough to think you’re some 19th century jockey or something!?”

“It’s simple Italian—you should be able to figure it out anyway from what I’ve said! Cazzo! I’m not going to give you a lesson over this! And like hell you’re famous, I’ve never seen someone like you in any damn races!”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

2001? Are you fucking with him? That was over 100 years away. He could accept society was advancing but that was fucking ridiculous. Also, who the fuck was this guy that could get away with insulting him? Did he hit his head? That was laughable. I mean sure he had as a jockey but that didn’t make him think he was a jockey.

“I’m gonna guess boss by the condescending way you asked if I have a job. And who said that was simple Italian anyways I wouldn’t have gotten it in another context! And what the fuck’s that supposed to mean I do races all the time! I just participated in the fucking Steel Ball Run cross country race!”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

On Valentine’s Day you awaken to find a bouquet of amaryllis at your door! Upon further examination you will find a card that reads:

TO: Diego Brando

FROM: DIO

The pride and eternal beauty symbolized by these blossoms suit you well. Take them with grace.

“Glad to know that at least someone like this is proud.”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

That Me-__- | closed;

[gotteswelt-blog]

-— ｢ღ ｣ —- Diego Brando. No matter how often he repeated each and every syllable in his mind, the only conclusion he came to was that this had to be some sort of sick joke. This city had the tendency to play pranks of it’s citizens, so creating something as ridiculous as a mirror image of himself was something he wouldn’t put past the masterminds of this weird experiment. However, the vampire wasn’t able to shake off the feeling that his assumption was all wrong. A jockey, and even with his hat, he barely managed to reach Dio’s chest, if he tried really hard. Why create a clone that wasn’t really a clone at all? They were too similar to be different, though it was their mismatches that ultimately caught his attention. 

Arms still crossed in front of his chest, he tapped his fingers against his arm, lips pressed into a thin line. In that moment, another option occurred to him, though he’d much prefer it if he was wrong at least in this regard. They weren’t… possibly related, were they? After meeting someone who was undeniably his, and to an extend Jonathan’s, son, everything seemed possible. “Diego… Brando”, he repeated one last time, this time actually pronouncing the name out loud, letting it roll off his tongue before another short pause followed. Several questions lingered in the back of his mind, and he wasn’t sure which of them were the best to ask, or in what order.  “How come I’ve never heard of such a famous jockey as you, then?”, was how he eventually continued. There was a possibility that they simply originated from different times. Another relative from the future, maybe?

“Before you will tell me what year you came from, I want you to know that I, too, share the name Dio. And your last name…” He paused. He didn’t want to think of it.  “…I used to know someone with that name as well.”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

Diego was making firmly sure to keep his distance from Dio. He knew about President Valentine’s tricks, and about his stand too. There was a very real chance that this man was another dimension’s version of himself, and he wasn’t looking to die today, especially out of his own ignorance. Nobody got the best of Diego Brando.

He’d never heard of someone else sharing his first name, and the only other with his surname bore not repeating, so why bother? Curious and curiouser. Who was this strange man and why did he look so different? He was the spitting opposite of Diego himself. Was this really him in another place?

“I don’t quite know. I’ve won the Kentucky Derby, if that rings a bell for you. I’ve been all over the world in races.”

He paused upon Dio’s introduction. The same name, it had to be another universe, right?

“I share your name and as for our shared last name, the donor is not worth a mention. I am from the year 1891, hail from Britain and was last seen on American soil.”

[ikeatrice-blog]

No!! That wouldn’t do at all. She was a witch, and this was a dinosaur! It couldn’t just ignore her! That was terribly, terribly rude!

Beatrice held the stick in her hand, and braced to throw it. She drew her arm back, praying for all the strength in her thin arms, and then, and then, she threw it. The stick flew threw the air–shooting directly at the dinosaur’s back–

It bounced ineffectually off of the dinosaur’s hide. Beatrice stared.

Was it going to attack her? Should she run? 

She stared. Terrible dino vengeance was on its way, any minute now, but Beatrice didn’t have it in her to run. It wasn’t like it had been hurt, right? It wasn’t like she did anything wrong. Right?

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

Rude was what Diego Brando was all about really. Well, not entirely, but you couldn’t ignore that aspect about him.

Feeling something hit him he turned toward her, looking around, the offending stick at his feet. Eyes trained back at her, slowly blinking. Diego don’t lose your cool, it was unbecoming of you to attack like a mindless animal. He knew exactly what he was doing in this state.

Opening his mouth he let out a mix of noises, beginning with a quieter roar and ending with a snort, turning his nose up at her. He didn’t have much time left in this form but it seemed like he was going to be wasting it here.

[takenthenapkin-blog]

     Watching the other carefully take a drink for but a moment, the ex-President gazed over the balcony’s railing. “Hm… how wise of you to be cautious. Yes… though…“

“There’s no point in me killing you, here. Not anymore.”

     Valentine doesn’t mince words– having understood the reason behind the other’s own wariness within seconds. Taking a longer drink of his wine, he exhales. Good. It felt good, indeed. Despite the coldness of his words, the man still spoke calmly. It was in the past, after all.

“Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if you still have every intention to kill me, Diego Brando. But meaningless murder is above you. Isn’t it?”

“Besides– you’re not the only dead man walking in this room.”

     He turned to Diego with his typical stony gaze– swishing his drink around.

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

“Is it a lack of power or a lack of desire? Or does it simply not matter anymore if we’re here?”

He leaned with his back to the balcony. What a beautiful night, wasn’t it?

“Not the only dead man walking? Someone did you in after the train, did they? Tell me, was it Johnny Joestar? Something always felt disgustingly triumphant about him.”

[archaeologian-blog]

send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on

[dunamai]

I might write anything from a paragraph to a whopping essay, but send me something you’ve noticed about my characterization or just something you want to know about my muse and I will write what I can!

[takenthenapkin-blog]

     The chilled night air was rich– a fresh change from the environment within the ballroom. There weren’t too many others out and about, aside from himself. It was truly peaceful. The sound of music could still be heard ruminating from within, but it was much softer here. 

     Standing at the balcony, looking over the scenery from afar, someone caught the man’s eye. The only other one who occupied this space. … Gingerly, Valentine poured another glass of wine.

“Care for a drink?” He asked– taking a sip of his own before speaking.

“The wine here is exquisite.”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

An excuse to get prettied up and mingle, that’s what this ball was. Not of status or anything, open to all. Diego couldn’t decide if he loved the inclusion he never would have previously gotten, or was annoyed it was there at all. Hypocrisy comes in all forms, after all.

Upon hearing footsteps behind him, Diego turned his attention off what view he was able to garner from the balcony’s edge and onto a familiar face. Disturbingly familiar. It wasn’t every day the President of the United States personally offered you wine.

It wasn’t every day he was to blame for your demise.

Stiffly, Diego took the drink.

“Is it now? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of this brand yet.” Swirling the wine in the glass a bit, he took a very cautious sip.

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

If You’d Like To Place A Call Please Hang Up and Try Again [[closed; bururururu]]

[bururururu]

That was a threat, wasn’t it. The thing about the black eye? Or was he simply being informative. Either way, he should just let it be, no reason to press it.

What was truly an issue was how stupid the other was, trying to insist that a cell phone didn’t exist. Who was stupid enough in this day and age to not know what one was? Not to mention, they basically handed them out in this city. It was positively absurd the man was denying this fact. And to say they were invented only 14 years ago—what was he, some lost in the past idiot?

Digging out his own cell phone from his pocket, he shoved it in the other’s face. He had zero patience with the man at this point, and he was going to get his point across one way or another.

“See? A cell phone! Idiota!  Phones were invented over a century ago! Are you some old man that’s gone out of his mind or something!?”

“And Capo is exactly that—mio capo. Are you unfamiliar with having a job!?”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

That was absolutely a threat Doppio, one you better heed. Or, Capo could help you. Either way, Diego was making his stance clear.

Diego looked at the cell phone shoved in his face and raised an eyebrow. That looked nothing like a phone. It looked like a bar of soap with a mirror on it. And the guy was saying this could make calls? Laughable. Next he’d say you could send messages like a telegraph could.

“What the hell do you mean over a century ago?! And I am not an old man. I am 20 years old and the year where I’m from is 1891!”

“What the fuck are you saying? Is that Italian? I don’t speak Italian! And of course I’ve had a job I’m a famous jockey.”

[spinningnails-deactivated201602]

teenage wildlife { DIEGO.

Alright, it was getting hard to find that housing board, this city was just so huge it was ridiculous; he needed some sort of help just to get to the place he was living—and it was very hard that all these sectors seemed so… random. He continued moving quickly with his wheelchair, trying to find the room he started in, but it was just so hard to find.

He tried continued moving, but then he took a quick glance forward and couldn’t believe what he saw—a man with blonde hair, green clothes and a hat with ‘DIO’ written in gold. No fucking way.

“Dio! What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you were fucking ‘dead’!”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

Navigating the city had gotten easier for him. He would just ride around on Silver Bullet and try to map out the streets. Sector one was a lost cause though, he figured. At least he could keep an eye on the rest. Plus,it was refreshing to be out of an apartment with three other people in it. It was cramped.

He heard a familiar voice in his ears. Oh hell no. Not here. Not that he didn’t expect to see Johnny but fucking really ?

“Yeah, thought I was dead too but here I am. What are you doing here anyways? Shouldn’t you be off losing a horse race somewhere else?”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

teeny tiny truce || dioswelt

“Hey Dio. Do yo want to go looking at outfits for this ball that’s going on? Something tells me you have good taste.”

[ikeatrice-blog]

Is that, was that! A dinosaur? Right there, in front of her! In the park at the edge of the woods! Were dinosaurs dangerous? She read about them in school, but that was so long ago. More than dangerous, she thought, dinosaurs were exciting. They were strange and magical and special.

“Hey there, little guy,” said Beatrice–it was taller than she was–“what are you doing all the way out here? Wanna play? Huh? Do you wanna play catch?”

She picked up a stick, waved it around. Did dinosaurs play catch? Well, most of them never interacted with humans. Most of them were long dead.

“I’m going to throw this, are you ready? And then you bring it back to me. Sound like fun?”

   @coldbloodedjockey

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

Diego hadn’t stretched his legs as a dinosaur in a very long time. He only had 5 minutes to do it and didn’t want to deal with anyone during the transformation. He was annoyed he only had so long to change too. Why would they limit him this much? It was infuriating to say the least.

He saw Beatrice approaching, cocking his head in confusion. He wasn’t some sort of common household pet, he was a wild prehistoric beast and demanded that respect for like five minutes.

Diego eyed the stick, wiggling his tail and turning, walking past her before she could throw it. Was he disinterested or did he want her to go away? Both? Both. Not that he could say it, anyways.

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

“There’s a ball coming up huh? Finally, something with a little class.”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

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[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

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