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JoJo: Hunger Games Edition

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It was still very peaceful on Johnny’s hill. He was collecting fruit from below a tree, as he couldn’t reach the top, for obvious reasons. He was oblivious to the chaos below, when he observed the many sounds of someone climbing. He dragged himself closer to the sound, and this revealed none other than Hol Horse. He had decided he would be safer higher up, and so was climbing, when he came face to face with Johnny Joestar. Hol Horse said something along the lines of “fellow gun users need to stick together”, and Johnny then rolled his eyes and backed away.


Jonathan still hadn’t returned to Jotaro, when Steely Dan stumbled into his shelter, nearly taking out the supports. Jotaro muttered continuously under his breath, but begrudgingly tended to him. As for where Jonathan was, he had run into a rather distressed Midler, and as his “pointless gentleman’s honour” dictated, he decided he would protect her. They roamed around for a while, before deciding a productive idea would be to look for other tributes, and so with each other for company, they departed.


This was also happening on the other side of the arena- Mista was leading Jolyne and Gappy (he was only leading because he threatened them) on a hunt for other people, and it wasn’t long before they stumbled across Funny Valentine, who was staring into space, muttering to himself. If they had been paying attention, which they weren’t, they would have noticed that he wasn’t completely incoherent, but wished to be back in the safety of the White House.


Diavolo and Dio were, ironically, working together. Diavolo was initially apprehensive, given the failure of all of his past alliances, which was probably more due to his personality than anything else, but this seemed to be going okay, at least so far. Giorno had left the treehouse where they were all lodging, in search of clean water, as one river that occupied the arena was filled with blood. He had been searching for around two hours, when he found a small brook, fast moving and crystal clear. He cupped his hands and sat and drank. It was refreshing, and he washed himself off in it, not wanting to waste the opportunity.


Kars had decided that Alessi needed to die. He had caught him being a creep, and it mildly annoyed him. He justified his actions by telling himself that Alessi was truly evil, and even if he wasn’t, it would put the other man out of his guilt. He grabbed him by a large portion of his hair, and repeatedly cracked his head against a rock, the small bells in his hair jingling the entire time. They could also have served as a warning to the others: it kept them away, as nobody really likes Alessi anyway.




Four cannon shots rang out through the still night, shattering the silence. There was one for each “unfortunate” death.


Bang! Kira.

Bang! Yasuho.

Bang! Sex Pistols no. 4.

Bang! Alessi.


One death that really hit home was the death of Yasuho. She was nearly always so nice- it was unapparent as to why she had been killed, she was always so nice to everyone.




For an unknown reason, someone had sponsored Gappy with medical supplies, or maybe it was just out of pity. And, slightly more sensibly (perhaps), Jolyne had been supplied with an explosive. He had been running away from Kars, but that was now unnecessary, as Kars, accompanied by Funny Valentine (still questioning his existence) and Midler, had set their sights on Diavolo. They soon reached him- it seemed it was his fate to continue his cycle of deaths. He was swiftly executed, and never heard from again.


Giorno Giovanna had been climbing up to his treehouse, he thought he was doing pretty well so far. He was in a semi-daydream state, when Diavolo’s piercing scream cut through his mind. He moved in a way akin to a jump, missing the handhold, skidding. He began to fall, it felt so slow. The branches cut at his skin and clothes. They pulled at his hair and poked at his face. He hit the ground in slow motion, with a sickening crack. He yelled out in pain, but nobody seeked to help him. He slowly died, laying there in the bed of soft pink blooms.


The few screams of pain and death had rattled many of the other tributes. As the new day dawned, Jotaro and Steely Dan huddled together by the dying embers of a fire, and across the arena, Jonathan and Dio had set their differences aside, and banded together with Hol Horse, Johnny and Mista, setting up a camp on Johnny’s hill. They had agreed to sleep in shifts, protecting each other.