Museum Studies

Arrival

The plane dipped through the clouds, travelling towards JFK airport at a steady pace. The land raced away below it, towns and fields looking as small as a patchwork quilt from the view from the tiny plane windows. However, the passengers onboard weren't really paying attention, as they were all thoroughly exhausted. The plane had set off from Sydney to LA early in the morning, the burning Australian sun not yet risen when the aircraft had taken off. The stopover in LA had only been for an hour, as the airline loved to brag about how fast their connecting flights were, and the jet-lagged passengers had been herded onto a plane heading to New York City faster than you could say "duty free booze!" Everyone on the plane was dozing into the complimentary blankets, or staring blankly at the TV screens. The only person who wasn't shambling around like a zombie was a pink-haired young woman with her head buried in a book about aztec archaeology. She'd slept all the way across the Pacific Ocean, and now she was wide awake, and ready for what was awaiting her in New York.

Roberta Zombie (despite her unusual surname) was as wide awake as ever. Her pink hair was tied back in a short, messy ponytail and silver piercings shone in her ears, nostril, lip and eyebrow, which glimmered against her black eyeshadow. Usually people stared at her pink and black alternative fashion, but everyone on the flight was too exhausted to stare. Her eyes were fixed on her archaeology book, taking in information on Aztec warfare and weapons. She'd been an international student at New York University, where she had obtained her PhD in archaeology. Although she was from Australia, which was clear based on her strong Aussie accent, she'd studied in New York after being offered an internship at the Joestar museum of Archaeology and World History. She'd flown home to Sydney to celebrate gaining her PhD with her parents, but now she was heading back to the big apple. The museum had offered her a job as a junior curator after her performance as an intern, and there was no way that she'd miss this chance.

"Will all passengers please put their trays into the upright position and wear their seatbelts? We are about to land." The cheerful voice of a flight attendant asked through the intercom. Roberta put her book back into her bag, and grinned to herself, tongue piercing flashing as she did so. This was going to be good!

JFK airport was incredibly crowded as usual. Backpackers with their sights set on Europe, pensioners heading for two weeks in the sun and shouting families jetting off to Disney world all hustled and bustled within the glass and stainless steel building, decorated with the fake plants and odd carpets that all airports hold. Roberta pulled her passport from her bag, and showed it to the guard.

"First time here, Aussie?" He asked.

"Well, I studied here, but this is my first time working here." Roberta replied, sliding over her visa. The guard checked it, nodded, and let her through. As she waited by the carousel for her cases, she checked her phone. There was a new message from Mark! Roberta had missed her boyfriend whilst she was in Sydney, but her heart sank when she saw the message.

Sorry, baby. The guys have asked me around for a gaming marathon and I can't say no. Sorry I can't come meet you at the airport, but you know how important my dudes are! I haven't seen them in ages!

Marl was a computer programmer from Brooklyn. He'd met Roberta at her favourite bar a few years ago whilst she was still studying for her master's degree, and the two had hit it off.

It's ok, I was just hoping that you'd see me there She replied.

You know how much my bros mean to me! Came the reply. Roberta cringed, feeling toxic. She wasn't being clingy, was she?

I'm sorry, mate! I didn't mean to ruin your fun! She tapped out. A new text came through, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

It's ok, baby. I forgive you ❤️

Roberta smiled at Mark forgiving her, but she still felt rotten. She'd been too rude and nagged him about something that he wasn't able to do! Like the time she'd asked him to come to her Roller Derby championships, but he'd been too busy going to a talk on cryptocurrency. But hey... Relationships were about compromise, right? That was what Mark always said, at least.

Roberta was snapped out of her thoughts by the carousel starting up. After a few minutes, her two cases trundled along, and she picked them up. Although she was pretty spindly- and not in a beautiful, petite willowy way, in the "built like a beanpole" way- she had a bit of muscle from her time playing roller derby. The girl walked over to the foyer, and kept her eyes open for her ride. The head curator, a man named Noriaki, had said that him and his husband were going to pick her up. Roberta was living in the apartment under theirs, although her tiny flat and their luxury penthouse were so different that she could barely believe that they were in the same building. Apparently Noriaki's husband's grandfather (who was still alive, despite being 103 years old and wheelchair-bound) used to be a property developer, and had gotten them a good deal. Still, Roberta was able to own her own place to live, which in itself was an achievement in New York city.

"Roberta!"

She turned, to see a Japanese man with red hair waving at her. Noriaki was in his early fifties, thin as a rake, and was wearing a designer emerald green coat and grey kid boots. His husband- the scary Marine Biology professor from New York University- stood beside him in his signature purple jacket.

"Mr Kakyoin, Mr Joestar!" She walked over to them, extending a hand in greeting.

"Please, just call us Nori and JoJo. Anyway, Roberta, once you've dropped off your bags I'm going to take you down to the museum. There's a certain exhibit that we want you to take a look at, as it's your area of expertise." The redhead said.

"You mean... The Sandstone Warrior!" Roberta could barely contain her excitement, as she'd written her PhD thesis on him! It was a legendary mesoamerican statue of a horned warrior, and the story behind how it had ended up in New York was almost as phenomenal as the statue itself. However, said story had never been documented, and was a closely guarded museum secret.

"That's right. Welcome to the Joestar museum, Roberta!" Kakyoin smiled.

"Yeah, that's the statue he's on about. My gramps was the one who brought it over to America, but I'll explain once we're at the museum." Jotaro said, looking at his feet as he offered to take Roberta's case. As they climbed into Kakyoin's car- a sleek, cherry-red hybrid- Roberta was clueless to the true nature of the fabled statue, as was every other human in the world- bar one bizarre old man....