If you act as god be prepared to answer to those who came before you. JJBA X SMR

Interval 1

(Okay, just to let everyone know an interval chapter will happen between the end of each story arc, or part, and acts to segment the parts of Jojo's while giving everyone more context on the reader's backstory. Sadly, there's no poetry, but that will be back for Chapter 7, so don't get too upset about it. Next chapter will be the start of Battle Tendency...and I can't wait for it! None of these moments are in a proper order. That should be obvious, but these moments will never be in perfect order and you can't make me stop. Here's a drawing of young Caesar that I drew like last year or so, couldn't fit it in the chapter where he fought Wamuu, so I'm putting it here.

WARNING: Warnings that have appeared in Chapter 1/or the story's tags will be stated in far more excessive detail than any of the previous chapters, especially since most of them have only appeared in poems, so please reread the warnings and proceed with caution.)

Title: The lullaby of a child will become a sad and somber song in adulthood.

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"I can't believe you named our first chicken...that!" M/n hissed out, watching him stand carefully lift the proud-looking hen in one hand. The bird didn't seem at all bothered by such behavior. In fact, she seemed to pose, so M/n didn't get up from the ground. Currently he was content just letting his stand have its fun.

"Cluck Norris is a good name!"

"In what world?" His stand hissed at that, going back to cooing over the chicken mere moments later. The voices weren't helpful either. Most of them loved the pun of the name or were simply too apathetic to care about such trivial nonsense. Either way, the god found a lazy smile forming on his face as his stand trails the edge of a claw down the bird's back. It preens happily at the attention. "You also found the most prideful hen I've ever seen. Didn't I tell you to get a more...mild one?"

"Personality is a good thing."

"Till she gets broody." His stand wisely doesn't make a remark about the genuine threat of broody hens, so the god stands and carefully runs his fingers down the hen's neck. Her eyes narrow in bliss. "Though maybe some personality won't be too bad."

He gets pecked right after and ichor stains Cluck Norris's beak in some weird sort of christening.

His stand laughs at him as he jolts back in shock.

"I changed my mind."

"Too late!" His stand howls in glee.

-

The chickens always die.

There are too many foxes, weasels, voles, hawks in the woods for a single sloppy made chicken coop to keep them safe. You used to get teary-eyed each time despite being a rather emotionless child, but nowadays you just clean up the gore and bury them appropriately. Your father had been the one who broke that habit of yours. He hated you for being so quiet and withdrawn, so the few times you showed a potent emotion he lashed out, the scar that ran diagonally across your face told the entire story.

He'd been kicked out after that. You had been seven. You could still remember hearing him smashing the bottle on the table before the red hot slash of one of the broken edges going across your face. It hurt so badly. You had swallowed it down. He had told you he wanted you to stay completely still and quiet. Completing that goal hadn't made things better, but it proved that you had a strong pain tolerance.

You were born broken.

That was what he said to you. All his actions were because of your own inherent fault. If you were a regular child that properly showed your emotion, he wouldn't have this problem. If he hadn't had to deal with a child, things would've been better.