---

Name: "Donny Brando; Soon to-be millionaire."

Aliases: "Some talk to me by my last name; Brando."

Age: "Twenty years old."

Gender: "Are you making fun of my hair? I'm a man."

Origin: "Oklahoma-born, but I raised myself in a multitude of places across America."

Abilities: "My main combative talent comes in the form of throwing; Specifically knives, and boomarangs. As someone with an acrobatic and athletic nature I can perform effective but often flashy dodging and positioning techniques for my throws, and run quite fast. And if it gets down to it I can plant my fist into their faces instead, though I prefer to keep the blood off of my clothes."

Appearance: "I am... Five feet tall, four inches. If you say anything, I will stab you. I also weigh in at one-hudnred and thirty-two pounds, and keep numerous knives strapped to my person through multiple belts around my waist; With my boomerangs strapped near my back."

Personality: "What kind of person I am? I do not know why'd you would need the information, but fine: I tend to be a very arrogant and self-centered, as I was raised to handle myself while others tried to kick me around. Because of this I have no guilt in cheating, fighting dirty, or using deception to come out on top; I have a firm belief the majority of this world is against me at every turn.

This leads to me lacking trust in others: I'm wary around most, and place my faith in few. I can come to an agreement to work together if it benefits me, but otherwise I tend to venture off on my own or at least try to bargain a better deal for myself. Antics and idiocy tend to annoy me, but I can usually repress any tendency to hurt someone by simply insulting them as a venting mechanism: So it works out.

I may regret telling you the rest of this, but I am quite fond of sweets; In my travels I try to taste chocolate everywhere I go, and it's one of the more comforting activities I partake in. While I may show signs of ruthlessness or a lack of morality, these are emotions I must keep repressed for the sake of not showing weakness to those that would harm me; I'm perfectly capable of guilt, or pity. But expressing it is a difficult for me, leading to me coming off as quite a lot worse than I am.

The only thing that comes close to breaking that barrier is drinking... And general embarrassment where I cannot contain myself as well. I tend to look away or play it off with aggressiveness in an attempt to save myself from the trouble.

There's one other issue: I have what they may call a 'Napoleon complex'. I am very irritated about my height, and I don't take it lightly when I'm insulted for it. Teasing is irritating, but not as bad as intended insults to make me angry: I have a tendency of either beating the hell out of whoever insults me in such a way, so it's something for you to keep in mind, hm?

Also, if you repeat any of this to anyone? You. Will. Regret it."

Short Biography: "Coming from a lower-class family tends to give you the sobbing backstories, but I won't give something like that here. I realized from my childhood that my family was meant for nothing but failure in their current state: I matured quickly and through trial and error kept myself fed while my parents took actions for their own sake; Leading me to leave home just after reaching my mid-teens.

I suffered a lot of hardships at first, but grew quickly and effectively as time passed: I gambled for money,and learned to hunt for my own food. I lived off the land for the most part, taking jobs shady or clean where I could to make the cash to keep myself going. While I have not quite made a large name for myself, some words pass down through towns of the brutal effectiveness I would employ; Leading to more opportunities. But it was never enough; It always was 'just enough to keep going'. Not enough to be satisfied.

That's when the words of the competition reached my ears; A cash prize that could set me for life. All I had to do was win the race, and enough money and fame to mock my elders for eternity would be gifted directly to me. It seemed simple in concept, but I am aware that there's plenty of competition; Some perhaps even more cold and ruthless than I am prepared to be for that money.

It's time for me to finally reach success."

Equipment: "I carry an assortment of knives with me, along with two bladed boomerangs. Aside from that, it's mostly the necessities of any other man: Water, food, chocolate. The chocolate is especially important, as it's one of my greater stress relievers. It goes beyond the realm of being sectioned with just 'food'. I also keep a very clean, pristine Spork on me at all times for when it's time to dine: It's spectacular compared to the peasantry forks and spoons of regular people."

---

Stand Name: 「PINBALL WIZARD」

Stand Appearance:

Abilities: "「PINBALL WIZARD」is a Stand mainly used to do spectacular trick shots using the Spin. It can be sent to a specific location and used as a 'bumper' to bounce a steel ball or other projectile in any direction, once or even multiple times to completely throw off an enemy. Aside from this, it can also directly charge into an enemy and give them a bit of a bounce; Knocking them away without causing much, if any, damage upon the initial impact."

Statistics:

"The victor will always be the one who is better prepared!"

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Name: Simon Garfunkel

Aliases: The Skittish Sharpshooter of Salt Lake City. "Bad Luck Simon."

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Origin: Utah Territory, Salt Lake City.

Abilities: Simon's title is not a misleading one. Despite his timid, nervous nature, he is a serious dead shot. His talent with a gun is that of a gunslinger. The time it takes for Simon to draw his six shooter from its' holster is impressive. And despite being a nervous wreck, the only part of his body that never shakes or trembles are his hands. Steady aim and quick reflexes aside, Simon struggles when it comes to larger-scale gun fights, due to his mental fortitude and quick shooting not being equal to his steady aim and quick drawing talent.

Of course, that isn't all Simon is capable of. A strange skill he's picked up on is sleight of hand. He's never once performed as a stage magician, card shark, or anything of the sort, but despite that Simon has a knack for misdirection and tricks. He tends to use this talent to pocket seemingly mundane objects 'for later use.'

Simon is built like a tank. He's big and bulky, and thus is pretty physically imposing. But he doesn't actually know how to fight. He can carry stuff, take a beating, and has pretty good stamina, but in an actual brawl despite all that bulk he's pretty much dead weight. A meat shield at best.

When it comes to survival skills, Simon knows basic first-aid, and can cook exactly one meal. A sandwich.

Appearance: Simon is a bulky, muscular guy with an imposing frame that stretches his suit. He stands at about six feet tall, and weighs 172 lbs. While his upper body is garbed in fancy clothing, somewhere between a cowboy and a magician, Simon wears a pair of old, pale brown riding pants, and cowboy boots that have seen better days. Simon's jacket houses a great deal of pockets and pouches for him to store things in, furthering his unintentional stage magician appearance.

Personality: Simon's large, imposing frame is contrasted immensely by his personality. He's incredibly soft-spoken and timid, seemingly neurotic in his paranoia. He's so overly cautious that he's developed kleptomania, snatching useless trinkets and keeping them 'just in case' they ever become useful. His cowardice is so great, that despite being a former policeman, Simon's first reaction when he sees danger, or criminal activity is to ensure he's nowhere near it in order to avoid getting hurt.

If his paranoid and timid nature weren't enough, Simon is also a strong believer in the concept of luck, making him terrified of things such as black cats, nervous around ladders, and strategically evasive, lest he step on a crack. He also carries around a rabbit's foot.

While he is, quite frankly, a neurotic mess, Simon is also a very morally driven person. He treats everyone as kind as possible, provided they are kind to him. Simon has a very firm, stable voice and somehow has a calming presence despite never being calm himself. He's the type of person to give off a happy-sad vibe at all times. Giving watery half-smiles and attempting to get others to look on the bright side. Declaring "At least you aren't me." is his standard form of comfort, and there's not even a hint of sarcasm in it.

When Simon gets frantic, he doesn't end up shouting, or getting angry. Instead his voice goes up an octave, and he begins talking fast and frantically, performing swift hand motions and in general losing his cool. Most strategy goes out the window the moment Simon gets this way, and he ends up stressing others out with his spastic attitude.

Short Biography: Simon was born and raised by a fairly poor family in Salt Lake City. He grew up surrounded by Mormons, as the city was, after all, created by them to be a sanctuary of sorts. Despite being born to a Mormon family, and being surrounded by like-minded people, Simon was never the religious type. The only thing he believed in was Lady Luck. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to have been born with bad luck. Tripping over rocks that he didn't notice, forgetting to tie his shoes, biting his cheek while eating, and rain falling the moment he went outside to play were only some of the things that happened to him nearly constantly.

This shaped Simon's life going forward. His life goal was one he decided on early. He desired to be in an environment that did not require caution. Everything was too dangerous, and Simon needed to fix that. As a kid, this translated to a very simple concept. If he joined the police force, he would be able to keep the area safe. Despite being a nervous kid, Simon was determined in his youth. He grew up tough, working out whenever possible. When he reached adulthood, Simon began training for the force. He was eventually accepted in his early 20s, and was made a mounted officer due to his soft-spoken, timid nature making him better with the horses than most.

Things spiraled from there. Simon found himself terrified of every single criminal, no matter how minor the crime. His deft shooting was enough to compensate for this whenever a criminal turned out to actually be violent, but his track record of letting criminals go was pretty bad. So bad, in fact, that Simon was given an ultimatum. If another crook escaped because he hesitated, he was out.

As if fate itself decided to mock Simon, the next crook was a bandit on horseback. He came in, guns blazing, stole what he could, and rode out. Simon pursued, along with several other officers. The chase was long and grueling, taking them so far, that they ended up in the Sevier Desert. By this point the bandit was getting antsy, and everyone was exhausted. So he started shooting. Simon's fellow officers fell, and he kept riding.

During this chase, neither party noticed that they had passed into some strange canyon. A legendary location known as the Devil's Palm. With their horses unable to take any more riding, Simon faced off with the bandit. Their confrontation ended in nearly an instant. The bandit with a slug through the stomach, and Simon with one through the shoulder. Simon attempted to leave, only to find himself horribly lost. He wandered for days, draining what little supplies he had. He eventually lost consciousness from dehydration, due to him giving the last of his water to his horse.

If he had fallen off of his horse after losing consciousness, Simon would have died. But he didn't. For once in his life his luck wasn't rotten. His horse wandered off in one direction, and eventually left the palm. Simon woke up on his horse near a river, and from there, they made their way back home.

Where Simon immediately quit the force. He ended up 'stealing' the horse, since she was a police horse, and not his. But they had been through a lot, and Simon didn't plan on leaving town without her. It was around this time Simon began hearing rumors of a race, with a massive monetary prize. He made his way to San Diego to compete in this race. Only to find out on his way there, that his near-death experience in the Palm must have brought something back with him. He was being 'haunted' by a metal spirit only he could see. And if that weren't enough, the spirit was an asshole.

Equipment: Simon keeps his trusty six-shooter with him at all times. He also has begun collecting random trinkets, which are currently as follows: Three metal spoons of different quality, a harmonica, three juggling balls, a knife, and a tinderbox.

---

Stand Name:「PERFORM THIS WAY」

Stand Appearance: Perform This Way takes the form of a large wind-up toy, that were popularized a mere 10 years before 1890. Unlike standard wind up toys, Perform This Way is of roughly human size, and seems to float in place. The stand's arms have some degree of bend to them, but their legs are totally joint-less. Not that it matters much, given it floats. The stand has a large wind-up key on its' back.



Abilities: Perform This Way's ability is primarily a restriction. The stand is an automated type stand that will perform tasks requested of it, provided they are possible to accomplish given its' skill set, and specific. (Such as; attack the enemy hiding behind that rock formation, as opposed to 'attack the enemy' when their location is unknown.) The tasks must also not be given in absolutes. One cannot request Perform This Way to 'defeat the enemy stand user.' Because there is no guarantee Perform This Way will succeed. They have to instead phrase it as 'Attack the enemy stand user.' Or 'Defend me from the enemy stand.'

What makes this stand both restrictive, is the fact that while the stand is highly durable, and significantly more versatile than most other stands due to its' nature as an automated stand that isn't restricted to a single trigger/function, the stand cannot activate until 'tasks' are performed for it. When a request is given, the stand will respond with a counter request. These requests are usually mundane tasks, or immature dares. Things like 'balance spinning plates on your head' or 'eat those worms.' When fulfilled, these requests will cause the stand's wind-up key to turn. The stand can be let loose at any time after the key starts turning, but the more tasks done/longer the task is done, the more time the stand has to act before the key stops turning.

Statistics:

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Name:
Julia Nero Zeppeli

Aliases:
Julia strictly goes by the fake name Jules.

Age:
23

Gender:
Female

Origin:
Naples, Italy

Abilities:
While Jules doesn't have a Stand, she believes she has something better: the Spin.

Appearance:
Jules stands at 5'10, making her a rather tall young lady. Her hair is very light blond and becomes a grayish-white as it nears the middle of her back. When riding, she keeps her hair tied up underneath a black hat bearing a large plume of colorful feathers. Her eyes are a bright blue that are almost always sparkling with either mischief or a sense of adventure.

She wears black riding trousers, a white button up shirt, a black vest, and a black cape trimmed with golden lining. While rather flamboyant, Jules is rather proud of her musketeer-looking get up.

Despite her prim choice of clothing, she lets her appearance grow shabby and unorganized at times. Her hair might be knotted or her hat might be put on backwards. Sometimes it looks like she hasn't gotten good sleep in ages.

Personality:
Cocky, quick witted, and only slightly rambunctious, Jules delights in the thrill of adventure and exploring the unknown. Upon first glance, one might consider her arrogant and aloof, but in reality she enjoys her fair share of fun; she's always up to something, whether it be coming up with games, planning songs, gossiping, and more. While she might seem like a goofball up close, Jules strives to uphold what remains of her family tradition and legacy. She will stand up for what's right and will refute what she deems wrong or immoral. Unfortunately for her, this is easier said than done. Jules cannot bring herself to believe someone is purely good or purely evil.

Jules can be overly proud and overconfident, though she is extremely loyal to the few that are close to them and will gladly lay her life on the line for their safety. She just expects some sort of payment afterwards.

Short Biography:
The eldest child of the Zeppeli family, Julia was always destined for greatness-- at least, that's how her father put it. As soon as she was of age, her father too her under his wing in order to train as a physician. Not just any physician, but one mentally and physically equipped to handle the family's most prized heirlooms: the steel balls. Years passed and, as Julia grew older and more keen with using such blessed instruments, her father began to train her how to wield them in deadlier ways. At seventeen, he told her that she was to be not only a physician but someone who was skilled in quickly and painlessly ending the lives of criminals on the death row. Now that she was a grown woman, she took part in helping her father carry out executions.

It wasn't the nicest job, though she agreed to help her father in order to uphold their bloodline's beloved tradition. Each death took a toll on her, however. These were living, breathing people with families, friends. Who were they to decide that they should die? Why did the Zeppelis have to use their powers to end lives at the behest of a king? Nevertheless, she obeyed her father's wishes; the last thing she wanted to do was bring dishonor to her family name.

Unfortunately for Julia, that day would soon come. At age 20, she was told to execute a certain individual. It was a woman who had poisoned her husband-- and said husband had political standing in Naples. The woman was distraught; hysterical, she clung to Julia's clothing, begging and pleading to be spared. Julia had seen this woman before. Her skin was always blemished with clusters of bruises and her eyes were swollen with tears. She sympathized with her entirely and turned to her father for help. Her father understood the woman's actions, but he claimed that Julia had no choice: she was to carry out the will of the king.

Julia was bewildered. Her father and her argued for hours on end with neither of them budging on their stance. Even though she threw herself at his feet in order for him to at least think about granting the woman some sort of mercy, her father shrugged her off and stated she was behaving like a child. That was when Julia decided to take matters into her own hands. In the dead of a winter night and in the midst of a rainstorm, Julia was able to help the woman escape.

If only she was able to remain unsuspected. Julia guessed that she was lucky that it was her father who found out about her betrayal first. Though it was the first time in all of her life that he looked upon her as a stranger rather than a daughter, and that alone broke her heart into two. He told her to flee Naples and never to return, for if the Neapolitan guard caught wind of her, he would do nothing to stop her own execution.

Julia left Naples with a new name, an adequate amount of money, and a few precious items, two of which being her steel balls that she was definitely not supposed to take with her. For two years, she aimlessly wandered Europe in attempts to settle down and start a quiet life. It was only when she heard of the Steel Ball Run and the absolutely massive prize for the first place winner that she decided to cross the Atlantic and set foot in America.

Equipment:
Jules' most prized possessions are her steel balls-- she keeps them at her hip at all times and grows agitated when people even look at them. They are strangely smooth and green colored. Her other possessions include a raccoon plush, hunter's knife, tinder box, string, yarn, sewing needle, a rusted pot and pan, some cheap silverware, paper, and an assortment of pencils. Some other things might be rolling around in her assortment of items, although they are unknown to others as she never lets people get close to her belongings.

---

Name: Annie Ohkae

Aliases: None

Age: 28

Gender: 100% real woman

Origin: New York City

Abilities: Money. Lots of money. Also, as a trained archaeologist, she has an eye for detail, extensive knowledge of history, and deft, delicate hands.

Appearance: Annie is "5'6 and weighs in at about 170 pounds. She thicc in the ridic.

Personality: Annie is a bit scatterbrained at times, and loves people. But most of all, she loves fun.

Short Biography: Annie grew up in New York City and was always interested in old things. Growing up, her favorite thing to do was go to museums and gawk at the old things.

Eventually Annie grew up to be an Archeologist, and began her first dig out in the Devil's Palm. While she was there, she found some sort of ancient arrowhead, and got sick shortly afterwards.

After her sickness, she began to manifest some sort of armored ghost. It called itself a "Stand" and constantly worried about her. Most people she's met have never heard of a Stand, and nobody could see him either.

She now finds herself in San Diego, and is on her way home. But she found a whole bunch of people looking like they were in some sort of race. Some weirdo asked for some of her information like her name and nationality, and then just left. What a weirdo. But hey, a race could be fun!

Equipment: A cleaning kit, a sturdy satchel, a spade, and her big fat wallet.

---

Stand Name: Neon Knight

Stand Appearance: Neon Knight in its base form takes the form of a medival knight in plate armor with a large red plume coming off of its helmet, which covers its entire head. It also wields a longsword that shines in a silvery hue with a brass hilt, and a steel-like shield with a Crest of some ancient forgotten family.

Abilities: Neon Knight is a combat and defense oriented stand with the ability to change its equipment around in order to shift around its stats to be better suited to a variety of situations. For example, Neon Knight can put away its shield and use a two handed weapon in order to increase its destructive power, at the cost of lower durability.

Statistics:

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Name: 「Joseppi Joestar」

Aliases: JoJo

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Origin: New York, New York

Abilities:
Joseppi has a few abilities endowed to him, some being naturally gained from his in-world experience while others are secret techniques passed down from generation to generation of Joestars.

Intelligence: His intelligence is the key to what has kept him alive all this time while living in such a perilous neighborhood and later an entire country. Joseppi’s mind usually travels a mile a minute attempting to process everything in his surrounding and mapping out several outcomes before they can occur. The tricks he’s learned from both being a gang leader and US Marshal has given him a bag of tricks to pull from whether its devious underhanded tactics or military training and intuition.

Physical fitness: this is pretty much a given

Budding Mastery: Having worked so closely with his stand from a young age, Joseppi is becoming quite adept in harnessing the full potential within him. This manifest itself in allowing him to channel singular parts of his stand, for example his arm or a leg.

Secret Technique: Nigerundayo, his last resort which is basically just running away.

Appearance:
Joseppi stands at a staggering 190 centimeters tall paired with 78 kilograms of weight to fit into his muscular yet lean looking body type. His natural hair color is black, but he often times like to color it a darker shade of blue to compliment his naturally dark roots. He has one part of his hair braided hanging from behind his left ear and deep blue eyes. Beyond his physical appearance his clothing consists of the normal US Marshal attire which consists of a gray vest with his signature badge near the chest, matching pants with boots and spurs on the backside, hat and a button up shirt underneath. Joseppi’s flamboyant style however allows for one alteration to the uniform, his button down is unbuttoned at the top exposing his chest and contains a pattern of what appears to be cranes.

Personality:
Burning determination would be his best and most notable personality trait. Once set on something, Joseppi cannot be torn from the path he has already set out on. This sense of deep seeded conviction has played an important role in life allowing him to meet adversity head on, even seeking it out sometimes. This is integral to not only himself but those around him, despite not having too many close allies during his time of delinquency his determination did lend itself to those around him. This translated to him fiercely protecting his allies and ensuring that their goals and aspirations would become his own and once they were there was no stopping his indomitable will to arrive at their goal. Joseppi from the outside is seen as both confident, persuasive, and charismatic; this does not mean his personality is just a one-sided coin. Instead the unbothered Joestar does have a gentle kindness to him that can only be pulled out by his most precious allies that manage to enter his inner circle although he is still prone to violence despite his honorable morals.

Combat however is where Joseppi personality really shines through, its like his bread and butter, what he was raised in and exposed to all his life. Having seen combat a million times already he sees it as his second home and where he likes to be in most. Being able to thrive in situations that others would falter in is what sets him apart. This air of joy and liberation gives way to his ability of adapting and perceiving to whatever situation is thrown at him even if its unfavorable to him. Joseppi knows all to intimately what the possibilities and costs battles can have or take away thus grounding him knowing there can and will be consequences.

Short Biography:
Joseppi was born from two immigrant parents, one being George Joestar from the United Kingdom and Isabella Joestar from Italy. Along with the other wave of immigrants looking for a better life in the United States, they found their new home in the not so sunny streets of New York. New York during this time was filled with crime and strife. You see, during the 1800’s New York was home to the most dangerous place in all of New York City by all accounts. These five neighborhoods were an assemblage of thieves, brigands, prostitutes, and murderers. Joseppi’s parents resided in one of these five neighborhoods as they could not find decent work due to their immigrant status and the discrimination it brought with it. As the years went on tension between immigrants led to several bloody riots and even saw a civil war occur in attempts for NY to secede from the rest of the states.

After years had passed and the tension in the air appeared to have taken a break the two gave birth to their beautiful son Joseppi Joestar. And for a time until he was about eight years old there was a true sense of ease within the family. Of course, this all changed when a random outbreak of riots began again pitting the Irish against the other European immigrants. Caught in the crossfire, Joseppi’s parents succumb to the ill fate shared between most of the individuals that lost their lives to meaningless violence. The death of his parents had a devastating impact on Joseppi and shaped his immature views of the world. Rather than fight against it and prove worthless, Joseppi threw himself into the chaos and hate that fermented in the world around him. He joined a five points gang and became a professional and hardened criminal by the age of ten.

Working his way up from the ground level proved to be easier than he imagined with the help of his imaginary friend that activated promptly after his first killing. His name ushered in his face being posted on America’s most wanted with a hefty bounty attached. This in turn led to infamy prompting a turf war to rise between Joseppi’s and a rival five-point gang. With war declared the two were destined to meet to fight to the death in order to establish the dominant gang. Yet as fate would have it, the war was orchestrated by the US Marshall service and rather than walk into a war the two gangs walked into a sting. Both gangs were massacred in an instant having been surrounded left nothing to be desired. Joseppi managed to survive through the skin of his teeth, at the mercy of the US Marshal he decided to extend Joseppi a lifeline. Join the US Marshal service and pay back his debt to society by serving the law or die like a dog in the streets.

Now as heroic it would be to die a martyr, Joseppi preferred to ride with the side that promised life. The memory of his parents and wanting to originally purge the evil from the five points was reborn anew within him. After years of service as a US Marshal he became a key asset to the country having cashed in and caught the most bounties. Under the guise of wanting to win the steel ball run race, Joseppi’s true intentions lie with his country. Tasked with the important job of collecting bounties of all those in the race he was happy to be of service.

Equipment:
His equipment is pretty standard when it comes to being a marshal. He’s equipped with a lasso for hogtying and apprehension. A belt loaded with ammunition and holsters on either side of his hips that hold two revolvers and a repeating rifle strapped across his back for stickier situations. Oh and of course his favorite, chocolate.

---

Stand Name: Airbag

Stand Appearance:

Abilities:
Airbag is a close-range stand with a short range of 2 meters, with such a short range the pay off is its physical might and speed.

Air Composition: Airbags unique ability is to control and manipulate air with his arms and through touch. This application has a multitude of uses ranging from basic to advanced abilities. On the lower end of the spectrum Joseppi can use it to carry his voice through the wind to disguise his location. He can also create a layer of air around his and his horses head when in conditions with low or no amounts of oxygen like underwater for example. More advanced applications would be the ability to cut through air resistance when racing his horse so the air resistance basically goes around him, this application can also work in combat removing the resistance on his punches causing them to be a bit more devastating. In terms of combat application, Joseppi can create a massive amount of air pressure into his hand and release it causing the condensed air to combust upon command (the projectiles would be no larger than fist/hand size) or create a small tornado that can block small projectiles and send an opponent who touches his fist flying.

Statistics: