achtung-attitude:

CHAPTER FIVE: Saturn Barz and the City of Angels – Part 1

The ‘X’ in LAX doesn’t stand for anything. Before the 1940s, Los Angeles Airport was simply designated as ‘LA’. However, come the end of the Second World War, aviation grew exponentially and it became necessary to extend the designation to 3 letters.

In the 1930s, what would become the massive Los Angeles International Airport was little more than a repurposed barley field of hardly 640 acres, with dirt landing strips and a single hangar building. Now, the monstrous airport is among the busiest in the world, covering over 3,500 acres and serving tens of millions of travellers every year.

Stepping out of the central Tom Bradley International Terminal (which is named after the first black mayor of Los Angeles) comes Shizuka Joestar. With her hand, she shades her eyes against the glare of the ferocious California sun and smiles, inhaling her first breath of the city air. The air carries on it the smell of gasoline and vague hints of something left out in the sun for too long, but she doesn’t mind.

“I’m finally here,” she announces to herself, as she smiles and walks away from the terminal building with a spring in her step, to the taxi areas and beyond.

As she navigates through the crowded throngs of passengers toing and froing from one destination to another, her nose remains buried in a small book she just bought from the airport bookstore, only looking every so often so as not to bump into someone or get run over by a car.

The book’s cover presents a far away shot of the Hollywood sign framed by large palm trees, and the title above the image is A Pocket Guide to LA. It’s out of this book she learned the brief history of LAX, as she keeps reading.

Los Angeles, the book explains, is not a city in the normal sense of the word as it is a number of smaller cities that, over time, expanded until they were on top of each other. Much like its historical rival in the east, New York, the result was a massive supercity, sprawling like a colossal hub along the Southern California coast, boasting a ethnically diverse population of over 4 million people.

The book has a lot to say about the city, from its many neighborhoods, to its storied history, to its status as an international centre of arts & culture. It’s the world renowned City of Stars, where dreams come true, through film and television, all overseen by the hands of Hollywood. And in any other case, this would have been enough for Shizuka. But this is not any other case.

She has a job to do in this city. There is someone she must find, and after flicking through her guide book some more, it is obvious that nothing in it can help her.

“So what do I do?” she says, closing the book and stuffing it in her jacket. The spring has gone out of her step now. Hands in her pockets, she walks facing the pavement in a straight line away from the terminal building. Her thoughts swirl, and they are not happy thoughts.

“I promised Josuke and Mamma I’d be able to handle this on my own, but now look at me, finally here, but no clue how to find who I’m looking for. My instincts tell me that it won’t be as simple as putting an ad in the newspaper. I don’t know this city, and I don’t know anyone in it. So what do I freaking do?”

Looking down, she barely notices the presence of the figure in front of her. She stops a hair’s breadth from him, spotting his feet at the last second and looks up to meet a smirking face studded with piercings. A young man, hardly older than her and wearing baggy clothes, he cranes over her.

“Hi there,” he says, sickly sweet, “this is a robbery.”

Two more young men appear from either side of him, clad in similarly baggy clothing, silver and gold jewelry, and confident sneers. They form a circle round Shizuka.

Past them, leaning in the shade against a low wall is another man, taller, with ruddy skin. He is not paying attention, craned over his smartphone.

Past him is an unusual building, chalk white, shaped like a flying saucer UFO, with arches looping over it, looking like giant alien insect.

“…This is a what now?” Shizuka says, cocking her head to the side.

“A robbery, girl. A shakedown,” says the pierced face, his tone gentle. “You could call it a mugging, but it don’t have to that way. No need for rough stuff, you know? Am I right, fellas?”

His friends snicker in response.

“… Well, at least you’re honest about it. If there’s anything I hate, more than anything, it’s people who lie.”

He leers, smiling with gappy white teeth. “My mom always did say a real man’s gotta be honest.”

“Your mom knows what she’s talking about. But hey, listen, are you sure about this?” she points to her right, at the road, cars streaming past back and forth. “Think about it. It’s broad daylight, we’re in the middle of one of the busiest airports in the world. Someone’s bound to see us, and they’ll call the cops on you and you’ll all get arrested. You have to know that, so why are you mugging– no, why are you shaking down tourists?”

Still leering, the pierced face glances behind him. “Let’s just say, we got ourselves a secret weapon.” Shizuka stands on tiptoes to look over his shoulder. She sees that the taller man with ruddy skin is still not paying attention.

“Anyways,” the pierced face says, with a new edge in his tone, “I’m guessing you’re a city gal, so you outta know the drill. No need to rough stuff. Leave all your stuff here, then turn around, walk away and don’t look back. I’d rather not have to hurt you, girl. But we will.”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Shizuka looks up at him sympathetically. “The thing is, you guys, I’ve got a secret weapon too,” she says, dropping her bags and raising her hands, palms up, “And I don’t like thieves much, either.”

Unseen by the circle of thugs, ACHTUNG BABY emerges and reaches out, physically grabbing the rays of light that shine down from the California. It is the height of summer and the sky is without clouds. It has a lot to work with.

A half second later, the light is beamed directly into the mugger’s eyes. The pierced face and his friends howl in pain as their eyes sting and burn in their sockets. They fall to their knees. Some flee. Shizuka stands up above them, awkwardly.

“Not in town five minutes yet, I’m already getting into trouble. Maybe Josuke-bro was right… What do you think, Mr. Secret Weapon?” she chirps to the tall man, stepping over his moaning thug comrades. He had put his phone away. He is paying attention now.

“Don’t worry,” Shizuka says, waving her hand, “they won’t be permanently blinded. If you call an ambulance now, they’ll be fine by this evening. Probably, anyway…”

The man does not respond. Long, black braids extend from under a white do-rag and hang down to his shoulders, weighed down by heavy metal rings. His bare arms are thickly muscled. His face does not move beyond a silent scowl.

“You might have avoided my move just now, probably since you weren’t looking this way and were in the shade. But, you know, not to brag or anything, but I’ve got a lot more where that came from…”

The man still does not respond.

“You know, I’d actually rather not fight. All I want is–”

“Where is Tarantula?”

She blinks, surprised. The man’s voice is gruff and deep. “W-what? Who’s Tarantula–?”

His hand becomes a blur as he reaches for her with incredible speed, but his fingers phase through her body and glimmer out of sight, nothing but an illusion. The real Shizuka, of flesh and blood, appears a pace to the side, spinning away from his grasp.

Swiftly, she drives her elbow backwards into his ribcage, hearing the tall man grunt. She swivels, producing a can of pepper spray from her inside jacket pocket. She sees the man rubbing his side. Just as he looks back up at her, she sprays the can until empty.

And a ghostly, muscular arm emerges from the man’s being. It waves its clawed hand into the cloud of stinging spray, and in the next moment, it has transformed into a small cube, which falls down between them. The hand recedes and the man reaches down to pick it up. He inspects it, intrigued, and dabs at it with his tongue. “Spicy,” he declares.

“A Stand!” Shizuka thinks, breaking out of her momentary shock, just as the clawed hand reappears and reaches for her, steam billowing from its outstretched palm. “ACHTUNG BABY!” she cries, and her own Stand emerges.

It focuses a beam of light to flash directly into the man’s face. He grunts and shrinks back, but the clawed hand keeps coming, reaching past ACHTUNG BABY completely and grabbing hold of Shizuka’s collar. She gasps as she is lifted up off the ground and pressed against the wall.