u/Stock-Donut

Stand Name: Eye Balloon (painting by Odilon Redon)

Stand type: Automatic, long distance

Appearance:

Eye Balloon takes the form of a security camera mounted on 2 long rods, connected to a human torso. Its body has several large spheres attached to the end of its stumped limbs, and in between the connecting rods and associated parts.

Each rod can freely circle around the spheres allowing for extreme mobility of its limbs, with the rods capable of collapsing to make space or extending to be longer, giving Eye Balloon a mechanical, yet unnerving spider-like appearance when moving.

Because of the connecting spheres, it can twist its related limbs in any way from inverting them, twisting them to fit into tight spaces, and even letting it reshape itself.

Its torso is that of a malnourished, starved state except its belly, which is protruding and bulbous. While the stumped limbs can move they can only do so as a normal human can, still lending more range to its movement.

The stand itself is fairly large, being 8ft tall standing up, and has a wingspan of 19ft. When fully stretched upward including its arms, it is 17.5ft tall, letting it traverse open terrain such as ceilings or walls freely, its strength enough for it to support its whole body with a single finger.

Ability:

Eye Balloon's main ability is to simply let its user pilot it from a distance, being dormant and unmoving until then.

While piloting, the user will lose control of their own body, falling into a sleep-like state, while fully becoming Eye Balloon itself, viewing the world through its eyes and using its body as if it were their own.

Eye Balloon has various misc functions, like letting its user zoom, use nightvision, sense heat, and even view magnetic poles. It can also let its user “record” what they see, capable of transferring that image or video to nearby electronics, and saving them to the device in turn.

The stand itself is also unique in that it needs to “eat” recordings, drawing these recordings from nearby devices or a select device, down to selecting specific videos if need be.

The videos eaten can give it a boost depending on the content, from a strength boost from violent videos, to a letting it disturb electricity from electrical tutorials.

Should the stand not eat any recordings for 2 days, it'll starve and die alongside the user, forcing them to feed it consistently.

Stand name: Voices of Evening (painting by Gustave Moreau)

​

Stand user: Mira Mira (antique doll)

​

Stand type: Range Irrelevant, Automatic

​

Ability:

Voices of Evening is always dormant within Mira Mira, activating only once Mira Mira's is displeased with someone in their immediate vicinity.

Once activated, Voices of Evening will automatically attach to the target of the displeasure, appearing not only above their head, but in every instance of the target, from dream selves to their disembodied soul outright.

Voices of Evening will float above each instance appearing to sit on an invisible plain being the size of a small car, one side being flowing, bright nothingness, and the other side being an absolute void. The bright side is pure narrative essence (representing the very original thought that made them), while the void is pure, final entropy (representing the future moment the character is removed from all memory).

Once above their head Voices of Evening will automatically fill one side or the other depending on the target's actions as they fall within their own morality. Should an action be considered morally right, the light side shall be filled, and vice versa.

Each side affects the target's existence, both literally and narratively within their own world. It goes to 2 extremes, the effects being relative to a scale:

Main character - Character - Retconned.

As the main character, the target is slowly weaned away from Mira Mira, usually through various plot points, major events, team ups, side stories, until they become too overwhelmed within their own, ever glamorous story.

While if they get into the reverse side; their actions begin to cease as memories and references are rewritten to replace them with someone Mira Mira deems “useful”, until they are completely retconned.

More than 1 person can be affected by Voices of Evening at a time, however effects are more potent closer to Mira.

Stand name: The Sanctuary of Hercules (painting by Arnold Böcklin)

Stand user: 井戸の王/The King of Wells (former), Anthony Albernacy (current)

Stand type: Close range

Stand ability:

The Sanctuary of Hercules's main ability is to control targets via carved wooden dolls. Only the head of the doll needs to be carved while the image of the target is in the user's head, all to be placed within the cage in The Sanctuary of Hercules's torso.

Once in its torso, the stand creates the rest of the doll's body itself, allowing full control of the target as long as they remain within 50 meters, requiring manual movement by the user.

It is also incredibly strong, capable of smashing through a reinforced steel door using its immensely powerful banisters. Its legs are equally powerful, leaping entire buildings with precision.

While beyond strong, this stand is immensely dampened with its new user, its original user being a Yokai named “The King of Wells”, the Yokai was capable of manipulating the dolls with its many, disembodied arms, could keep up with its leaping distance, and had the endurance to use its strength to full effect.

This was not the case with its new user, despite being a former Olympic triathlete, having only 2 arms with comparatively short reach while never having enough time to learn of its control ability. Another issue arose being the stand's leaping, as it can not move in small bursts, forcing its human user to hold onto it during jumps to prevent it from bounding out of its own range, its strength often proving detrimental in equivalence as the environment would break under their feet.

​

Details:

The King of Wells was once a villager woman during feudal Japan, having been cheated by her lover and thrown down an ancient well to prevent her from telling anyone.

She stayed there for weeks, attempting to climb every hour, each time her arms ripped off clinging to the protruding stones as her body fell down to the bottom once more.

She tried and tried until the walls were lined with disembodied arms, using them to continue her climb until one day she made it, lifting herself to the edge to see her village on the horizon.

Before she could crawl out one of the homes broke out into flames, screams echoing through the valley as she reeled in

Shock, sending her to the bottom once more.

As her body slammed back down into the dusty bottom of that forsaken place something different occurred, the many arms she left began to fall with her, loosening their grip and landing on her back and attaching themselves to her in the process.

Her eyes lit up as her pain faded, her body's many arms scaling the curved wall on their own, lifting her out of that well to show her her home, now cinders. She was enraged.

The invaders looked on as disembodied arms flew from the forest, each one gripping the throat of an assailant before lifting them into the air. The sky was filled with writhing bodies being strangled, the remaining villagers smiling one last time before succumbing to their wounds, all but one.

The lone survivor was her old lover, the one who had cast her, the wind blowing through the forest as if to approve her sudden decision, she would kill him, and she did. Her arms rescinded themselves as bodies rained down, the arms grabbing the cheat as they plunged him down into that same well.

Moments passed until screams finally echoed from the bottom, water filling the once desolate, dusty well, now with shimmering water so clear you could see the bottom, and a taste that brought youthful vigor to those who tasted it.

People were drawn to the well, and soon the woman had become a legend, her mind among the many trees that brought her to her life, her form fleeting to those who saw her, but a permanent memory in their mind.

Centuries passed, and a figure began to appear over it, slowly materializing as pieces of time began to stick to it, things that caught the King of Well's interest, frogs, plays, archetecture, until one day it finally moved on its own, a strange beast within their control, a gift from the forest for her devotion.

This beast proved useful, letting her control the devils that began to venture to the well and its water, devil's with gold and scrolls seeking to claim the forest sovereign land, turning them away to let the villagers live free of the burden the rich lords would've brought.

The village slowly declined in numbers but never faded, its people refined in their belief and prospects, a place untouched by the world, until one man dropped by.

He came for no water or land, he bought no modern electronics, and he wanted nothing of value the villagers had, he was an enigma and so the King of Wells let him pass, something that would be a detrimental mistake.

The King of Wells awoke to find their beast gone, vanished in the night as those they turned away began to trudge in, offering the villagers ignorance in the form of opulence, the glimmering eyes of the villagers blinded by their inherent greed, the village slowly growing before it was no longer a village.

The land rights were sold to the goverment, and the land was raped and pillaged, the King of Wells attempting to stop them at every turn to no success, their machines were too big, and soon the forest was concrete, the well sat beneath a bottling company who began to exploit it for profit.

Ghost stories were all that was left, the King of Wells unable to keep a corporeal form as the last plant died, having fled into the poisoned valley where she would remain, her cries still heard by those who ventured to the edge, her damning of the forest for the removal of her beast, not knowing it was not of the forest.

Anthony Abernancy awoke to a day like every other, his feed flooded with hateful remarks and slanderous words, his past never seeming to cease.

He left his house to go the gym ignoring those who stared, he ran a mile to the whispers that zipped by him, he was not unknown. Anthony Albernacy, a former Olympic triathlete who was later investigated and found guilty of possession of cp, his reputation completely shattered accordingly.

Anthony was not a nice man, he was not a good man, and if to foil the King of Wells, he valued material over anything else, so when he heard rumors of a man who could give superpowers from fellow rich elite he couldn't help but search.

His bathroom was laden with creams and facial scrubs to keep his youth, and as he placed his online order for “unimaginable strength” he did not think twice as to its legitimacy, he would try anything.

A package arrived with a single bottle with a single pill, a note attached detailing the strength of that which it contained, the note denoting to Anthony's abilities as an athlete,

“Control and strength, for your pleasure”

It was a single pill, yet Anthony felt a great joyous dread upon dumping the pill onto his palm, not sure how to feel as the pill felt unlike anything he had ever held before.

Taking a glass of water Anthony swallowed the mysterious pill without hesitation.

He felt normal, and just as he left the bathroom his body recoiled, his body suddenly pulsating he felt like his soul would be ripped from him, a sudden burst of strength filling the void from what was taken, his body returning to its normal state.

This was beyond anything he could synthesize with words, his body adjusting to this deep well in his heart. But one thing was for certain, he felt great, and he wanted to go for a run.

His run went as normal, whispers and jeers, his hopes being for someone to attack him so he could use his new strength, a wish that came true.

A man approached Anthony, the brother of one of Anthony's purchased digital victims, yelling at Anthony the many things he heard before. Anthony flew into a panic, reaching for his mace as the yelling suddenly stopped.

Anthony was befuddled as the upset man was no longer nearby, a loud screaming heard from his left. Anthony turned his head quickly to see the angry man now a splat against a tree over 60 yards away, his body cleaved in 2 with the tree showing a massive, splintered dent where he clearly separated.

Anthony, both sick and surprised, suddenly knew the cause, it was the pill.

At home Anthony never ran to his computer as fast as he did, going to the same website he had used previously to get the pill, “domain not found”. Anthony was frustrated, feeling conned as what seller doesn't want repeat business? Whatever the case, Anthony hated it.

Anthony spent the following week playing around with his abilities, getting into public fights by bragging loudly about his sex crimes, each time the person suddenly landed yards beyond, something cops could never pin on him.

One day as people began to avoid him believing him a murderer Anthony noticed something to his left, and it made him jump out of his skin. His eyes caught a giant imposing figure, a giant beast the size of a large car, an amphibious creature with 2 horrible heads on a spike, giant wooden arms and a cape, the various parts looking cobbled together.

He didn't know how to react, his body freezing in fear as the imposing beast tilted its heads down, letting out a sinister grin. Anthony quickly realized this was his power, his protective monster, and as such he felt invincible, starting to give it commands.

Each command fell on deaf, slimy ears as Anthony started to get frustrated, not having control over such a beast, powerful or not irked him, it may have protected him but it clearly wasn't loyal.

Anthony turned to leave for home the beast readying its legs causing Anthony to turn, its giant legs sounding like twisting tree trunks as the ground cracked beneath its feet, the tension finally lifting as its feet pushed off from the concrete, shattering the ground. Anthony watched as it flew through the air at high speeds before disappearing, wondering if it left.

At home Anthony received a knock, not the usual cops but a courier and a clipboard, asking for a signature. Anthony gave it to them before being handed a parcel containing a note, detailed instructions more akin to demands, telling of a group of similarly powered people, the demands asking Anthony to intercept them.

Anthony was no soldier, and he paid for his powers, the requested day passing as another package came to his house, this time through the window. A fire broke out, engulfing the home in flames as Anthony barely made it out, looking at his now smoldering home as one more letter was dropped off at his mailbox, Anthony now knew what to do.

Anthony was told to go to the South Beach Train Station, where 3 young adults and 1 elder would land, Anthony instructed to kill them, something he was eager to try having trained for the moment.

It was a brief affair, Anthony's beast leaped too far and it faded, so Anthony ran and summoned it once more, the beast slamming its bannister through the train slicing it like butter, accidentally launching Anthony in the process as he hit a concrete wall.

There was blood on his head, but unless he wanted to lose even more he had no choice, summoning his beast so he could grab its arm, commanding it to leap into the crowd of fleeing civilians to take a hostage, Anthony holding on barely as it finally landed in the crowd, crushing several people beneath him.

As he grabbed a young boy he began to make demands of the group, requesting they line up to die, the boy suddenly slipping from his hands falling sideways into the group, the others charging Anthony.

He didn't know what was hitting him, he saw various beast like his but he had no ability to process what they did, all he knew was it was both hot and cold, his skin felt out of place and his vision contained an hourglass, all these things overwhelming him as his body began to twist.

He summoned his beast close, not using it to slam into those nearby, but to flee, grabbing onto the banister once more before it burst from the building, Anthony's grip slipping as he slammed into the ground, hearing an audible crunch with a shiver down his spine. He couldn't move, his arms wouldn't flail and his legs wouldn't run, his eyes focused on the hate filled stares from the group who had circled him, feeling only shame for such a humiliating situation, the elder of the group grabbed a gun from his belt, and shot.

Anthony Albernacy had died, and The Sanctuary of Hercules died with him.