Wild Horses

Missed Signals

After dinner, Joseph led the gang to a beautiful seaside patio with cozy chairs situated around a fire pit. Sure, they were stand users, but were they necessarily enemies? It was just like Jotaro had discovered and explained to him: stand users attract other stand users. They were drawn to each other like magnets; it was only a matter of time before they would pass through each other's lives and continue on their separate ways. And Joseph was thankful for the company. He hadn't had any visitors in at least a month. He tried to remember how many weeks it had been since Polnareff had dropped by during his ongoing investigation into the man who had taken his legs and left him for dead.

Bucciarati helped Joseph build the fire while the others got comfortable with glasses of wine. Lira sat alone on a cushioned bench swirling a glass of wine in her hand. She let her vision drift out into the dark sea as she replayed the events of the day over in her head. God, I'm an idiot, she thought as her face fell into a frown. Everyone is always so in tune with Bucciarati and what he's thinking, while I'm constantly struggling to get even a basic read of him. How is everyone on the same brainwave, reading each other's thoughts and carrying out orders without Bucciarati even saying anything? Has he been giving me silent orders this whole time, and have I just been missing every single one? The tail end of Lira's hangover was heightening her anxiety, causing her to doubt herself and her place in Bucciarati's crew. Of course, she had always known that she wasn't a real gangster. In a way, it was all pretend. Pietro Pasta, Lenny Linguine, Tony Tortellini, and that first guy all the way back on her assignment with Bucciarati - Lira hadn't actually killed any of them. They were all freak accidents that coincided with her attempts to use Lovecat. I can't even control when Lovecat appears. Bucciarati looked so upset earlier when Lovecat appeared at the dinner table. Lira was feeling down and unconfident, and it showed. Had she done something wrong? She felt useless; everyone else had a purpose or something to do, and she didn't.

Mista came out a few minutes later after insisting he would clean up the dinner table. In truth, he stayed behind so the Sex Pistols could eat their fill. He sat next to Lira and propped his arm up on the back of the bench. He didn't have to look hard to see the sorrow and doubt plastered all over her face. "Gattina, is that the same dress you were wearing on the night we met? I've been wanting to see it again since then," he purred and looked her up and down. Mista meant what he said, although he laid it on extra thick in an attempt to cheer her up. Lira blushed and glanced over towards Bucciarati, who was already engaged in conversation with Joseph.

"Mr. Joestar, what exactly is it that you do, again?" Bucciarati was asking.

"Please, call me Joseph! I'm retired now, but I was a real estate agent for a long time back in New York. A bit of a tycoon, if I do say so myself!"

"Hmmm," Bucciarati hummed as he helped stack twigs in a pyramid shape over the budding fire. He studied Joseph's face for any sign of sweat, but he saw nothing. So, this guy was really just a salesman? "Are you originally from New York?"

"Oh, lord, no! I'm an Englishman! But I moved with my granny to New York when I was about your age, so really, I'm a New Yorker through and through! Although I'd rather like to think of myself as more of a world traveler. I've been all over!" Joseph kept chatting cheerily with Bucciarati, keeping up his normal nice-guy act. Of course this white-clad young man could be dangerous; Joseph was sure he could feel strong stand energy radiating from him. Bucciarati was obviously the leader of these stand users. Abbacchio, the shy-but-friendly tall one, seemed next in command. Mista was the tactical, calculated one. Narancia was clearly the observant smart one, and Fugo was the wildcard. Yup, Joseph Joestar was sure he had figured these guys out.

But the girl, Lira - she had accidentally let her stand slip out. She was, in some way, out of tune with everyone else, although they all seemed to like her a great deal. Perhaps she was just Bucciarati's girlfriend. No, maybe she was Mista's girlfriend? Joseph looked at the two teens giggling on the bench together and raised an eyebrow. Bucciarati turned to see what Joseph was looking at before huffing through his nostrils. "Mista, fetch some more kindling, please," Bucciarati calmly ordered the gunman away from Lira. Mista nodded and got up to search for firewood. Bucciarati took the spot on the bench next to Lira and crossed his legs as he leaned back and wrapped an arm around Lira's shoulders. "Don't worry about what happened at dinner, tesoro," Bucciarati whispered in her ear and slowly rubbed his palm down her back. "He's nobody, just some rich American," he paused with a thought before continuing in an even lower whisper. "Actually, he'd probably be pretty easy to swindle," Bucciarati let out a quiet chuckle before placing a light kiss on Lira's temple. "So, no worries, alright? Let's just relax and enjoy this lovely night all together around the fire."