Reader's Platonic Adventure - JJBA Friendship Scenarios

Giorno the environmental activist and bear connoisseur

Gender neutral, dead animals, not hunting or anything just carrion, and also extinction ig
Fuck you requests are for losers (i'm losers)
Using english scientific names because fuck italy and fuck you and fuck i just can't look up "bitchass mollusk italian translation" or the FBI will kill me
Anyway fuck you and fuck this story and fuck god and fuck his pet shrimp named Dikerogammarus the Chad Shrimp

commencing fuckery:
3...
2...
1...
Fuckery commenced

Old Napoli, as the song suggests, was always, and always would be one of Giorno's dearest things. Because of this, it was no surprise that he would move into the foothills of the southern Apennines after his rise to power.
When business didn't demand his attention, he made a habit to explore the vast property he had purchased and document the wildlife. It was on one of these days that he came across an isolated and unexplored area, and decided to spend the day on a small, but no less thrilling adventure.

Along the way, he had discovered the usual bounty of oaks and sweet chestnut, with the occasional hop-hornbeam; but what stood out most to him was the unusual abundance of buckthorn shrubs and lack of invasive plants. They were so prevalent, in fact, that it was difficult to find any other shrubbery on this side of the mountain, and they were in excellent health comparable to those of courtyards on wealthy estates. He was immediately intrigued, and whatever thought had been reserved for the organization was replaced with determination to solve this mystery.

His first order of business was to find a non-native insect. Already having searched fruitlessly the trees and bushes, he had surmised to check beneath rocks. He used a branch to lift and move a dog-sized stone, and beneath it he found glow-worm larvae, feasting upon garden snails feasting upon old tree roots.
Hold on...
He pulled up a piece of the root and inspected it. It was that of an American black locust, cleanly cut down by human tools and covered with a stone. The tree's removal was understandable, but why would the perpetrator hide the remains?
In his notepad he scribbled "Robinia pseudoacacia: dead" and continued his search.

The sound of running water grabbed his attention and directed him to a stream-fed creek. He knelt in the mud and plunged his hands into the water to feel the call of the Italian stream frog. To his surprise, something crawled up his leg: a female Spectacled Salamander. Her legs and tail were laid flat, indicating that she didn't consider him a threat. He smiled and offered her his fist, which spread to reveal, to the salamander's delight, a field cricket he had fashioned from a pebble. She snatched away the cricket and scrambled back into the underbrush.
He turned his attention back to the creek. On the shore was another rock, similarly sized to the one he'd found before. Out of curiosity, he lifted it, gasping at what was underneath. A small hole had been dug and filled with the empty shells of Asiatic mussels. To his surprise, similar mass graves had been dug all around the creek, containing the remains of golden clams, New Zealand mud-snails, and various crayfish.
After he had lifted every stone, he wrote "Corbicula fluminea, Sinanodonta woodiana, Potamopyrgus antipodarum, Pacifastacus leniusculus, Faxonius limosus: all dead" and carried on.

He had begun looking for birds in places where the buckthorns' berries hadn't yet shriveled up. Again, he was fruitless. He decided to look f...
What the hell?
He was suddenly overwhelmed with the smell of rotting flesh, equivalent to the body dumps after mass gang shootouts. He brought out Golden Experience and turned around the corner.
To his confusion, the area before him was covered with three-meter-tall piles of animal carcasses, rather than human corpses. There were everything from deer to swamphens, and even raccoons and dogs, suggesting the collector had traveled good distances for their smelly loot. He started to write down names when something was tossed at his feet. Berries?
The fruit had come from a nearby bush. The person within said bush seemed to be extremely excited, heart beating rapidly and stifling hyperventilation with no threatening aura. Giorno cautiously parted the bush.
"Ah!" it squealed, "you're not a bear!"
"I'm afraid not," he replied.
"Then what the hell are you doing here? Like a bear would be? Who are you?"
"My name is Giorno Giovanna. I own this land."
"That doesn't explain why you're following the bear path, where by all laws of nature, non-bears should not be. Are you here to steal berries? Hunt? You look like you have a secret, so spit it out already!"
"In fact, I do have a secret, and I'd be willing to share it if you did the same."
"You want me to share your secret?"
"Your secret. Why this place is so strange."
"I ain't got no secret, numb-nuts. I think it's pretty obvious I'm trying to attract Marsican brown bears."
"Marsican bears... haven't those been extinct here for decades? Of course, the real question is why you want to bring them here."
"I miss them. I mean, I've never seen one in person, but I feel like this place is really missing something, and that thing is Marsican brown bears. People killed them all because they ate their goats. You know what I say? Fuck your goats, I want bears. So I'm trying to bring them back to Naples."
Giorno smiled. "Sounds like a noble goal," he entertained.
"Yeah. Your turn, titty window boy."
"Alright, alright. I'm the boss of the biggest gang in Italy. That's my base of operations, up there." He pointed to his estate further up the mountain.
They squinted at him. "You're, like, ten. And that dumbass name tells me you're some powdered-cheeks rich kid. And by powdered cheeks I don't mean the ones on your face. I mean your butt. Because that's what rich people do to babies, right? I don't know, I live in that place over there." They gestured to a hole with sticks over it.
"Pardon my asking, but wouldn't living near here drive away the very bears you're trying to attract?"
"Maybe, but have you ever dug a human-sized hole with only a flat rock?"
He hadn't, but he was certain somebody in the gang had.
"Would you like some help sometime?"
"Quanno 'o diavulo t'accarezza, tant vo' ll'anema. You just want to, I dunno, store your fancy English tea in my house."
"If I did, I would at least give you room to move around, and maybe even a door if you're lucky.
They stared at him with a conflicted expression before giving in. "Fine, but we have to build it where I say, in the way I want, without loud tools. And you're paying because my belongings consist of a bowl and that rock I mentioned."
Giorno chuckled. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow morning, you're showing me where you want to build."
"Remember, it has to be underground or else the bears will see it!"


Three Days Later

On a small hill secluded from the stranger's bear sanctuary, a small group of Passione associates had gathered to dig their shelter. While the man in charge of the excavation, some Signor Sebburco, didn't ask questions about the large hole, Mista wouldn't stop moaning.
"Wouldn't it be easier to use a bulldozer or something?"
"We wouldn't want to scare off any bears," Giorno replied.
"Bears? What the hell are you talking about?"
Giorno smiled. "You know, Marsican brown bears. One of these days, they might come back."
Mista narrowed his eyes. "And what is this hole for, exactly?"
"Fancy English tea, you know, the usual."
He groaned loudly. "I don't know what any of this means! What's going on?! Why are we digging a giant hole in your backyard?! Why is your backyard so fucking big?! I've seen some big yards in my day, but Jesus Christ, man!"
"It's for a friend, if you must know."
"A friend? You mean a marzipan bear or whatever? Hey, yo, berries."
Mista then absconded to go pick berries. It wasn't as though he was contributing anything to the work, anyway.

One Week Later

Giorno had come to visit the stranger and check on the shelter's progress, when he found them cursing at a downed tree, flat rock in hand.
"What did the tree do?" he asked.
"Fungus! The tree didn't do anything, just the fucking--- ugh! Look!"
They pointed to a spot where the bark had been stripped, revealing strange squiggles in the wood.
"Looks like Dutch elm disease."
"Of course it's the Dutch. Can't trust anybody from a place below sea level; not even the fungus. God," they grumbled, "anyway, can you help me move this shit? We gotta burn it or it'll infect the others."
Giorno had an idea.
"No, leave it there for now. It's been dead for a long time, and there's no indications that the disease is still there. I'll come get it tomorrow."
The stranger's posture loosened with relief. "Thanks, Giorno. You're a great dude. I mean, if the bears do come back, which they definitely will because I'm a genius, I..." they paused, contemplating whether or not they should continue, "...I'll have you to thank for it. Seriously. Thank you."
They gave a pathetic thumbs up and grinned sheepishly.
He smiled back at them and returned the gesture.

Later that night...

Giorno returned to the site of the tree with an axe, chopping the brittle wood into four sections.
"Golden Experience," he whispered, stand appearing behind him.
He toiled until morning on his project, until finally at dawn he retreated to his home.
Not an hour later, the phone on his bedside table started to ring.
"Yes?"
"Don Giovanna, I have an unidentified intruder downstairs. Security caught them scaling the mountain with what appears to be a sharpened stone."
"Hold on, I'll be right there."
Still in his nightclothes, he hurried down the stairs and into the basement to find the stranger tied to a chair with their flat rock on the table before them.
"This isn't any way to treat our guests, Gargiulo," he said, untying his friend.
"Yes, Don Giovanna. I apologise."
Giorno turned to the stranger, barely containing his smile.
They shot up as soon as they were untied, literally bouncing with joy.
"Bears! Four beautiful Marsican brown bears! I had to climb the mountain so I wouldn't disturb them, but they seemed so friendly and I gave them so much food! You gotta see them, Giorno, they're so cute and shaggy and cute and they got big ol' feets and little bitty tails!"
"Shall we go down right now?"
"Yeah! I'll wait for you to put on some clothes."
"No, this is important. The first Marsican bears in Naples for as long as anyone can remember? That's a big deal."
"Oh, I was hoping you would say that! Come on, they might leave! No, wait, they have no reason to leave bearadise. But still!"
"'Bearadise'. I'll have to remember that."

-Fin-

Can you tell i wrote this in one sitting past my bedtime? probably because I didn't edit shit

also there may be one of you out there obsessed with Marsican brown bears. this is for you