THE WORLD.

“The preponderance of an altruistic mode of valuation is the consequence of an instinct that one is ill-constituted.”

☔ “You have some really sharp teeth… Do you ever cut your mouth or tongue on them?”

The Chinese have a thing called face reading, 面像, which is basically physiognomy, but Chinese and Western physiognomy is quite different. By observing the physical appearance of the face, practitioners claim to be able to foretell a person’s character and fortune. It’s similar to how Aya in DiU ‘reads’ people’s faces. 

Dio has many of the features that symbolize good fortune, as is apparent from his numerous times cheating death, such as: symmetry of the two sides of the face ( do i gotta link that one vid of jojo slicing him perfectly into half ) , a rounded and protruding cupid’s bow ( this is also an indicator of the person being charismatic and able to win most arguments ) , a strong chin, prominent cheekbones, an aquiline nose ( that symbolizes cunning )  etc. His eyes are slanted slightly with irises not touching vertically the edges of the sclera, indicating an arrogant yet charming personality that attracts beauty; the sharper the expression the eyes give off, the more intelligent a person is.

Send 📕 for a description of your muse as if they were a character in a book.

❛ The one destined to rule this world. You may address me as Lord. ❜  

In my opinion, it’d be not so much romantic as it is a purely physical thing, were such a thing to happen with either of them ( and I’m not ruling out the possibility because as you said, being deprived of touch for so long had the effect of him becoming blatantly promiscuous as is seen in sdc — i’m referring to the scenes of the unnamed naked woman bleeding out with her throat freshly slashed open on the stairs and the numerous, also naked women lying around on a bed looking dazed as all fuck. )  ( He’d totally let N’doul touch him because he knows he’s an ideal to N’doul, specifically speaking, a messiah figure - he’d oblige not out of willingness to please but to bask in his own glory of being revered akin to God. Yes, my muse is awful, yes, I’ve heard it all before. )

Dio Brando, or my portrayal of him anyway, is incapable of love. The only person who showed him that was his mother, and his mother died of loving him enough to stay with his father and endure his abuse. He doesn’t blame anyone except his father. He’s certainly not ostentatious enough to claim that the death of his mother was the sole reason he turned out how he did. He took his revenge for her by killing his father, and that’s it. In fact, that’s indication of just how incapable he is of love exactly - he never mentioned or thought about his mother again after the day his father, her murderer, was buried, he never even shed a single tear for the only person who loved him. He might have appreciated her and thought she did not deserve to die, but he did not love her —  even if she stood by him in the lowest point of his life, he did not love her. How, then, can he love anyone after? If you realize, nothing, literally nothing, triggered any emotional response from him except if it was for deception OR if it hurt his pride. 

his gaze drifts, settling with a wry sort of amusement on her, the wine, her again. loveless — for how do you breathe life into the dead? — although they play along with this farce, snakebite smiles with cataclysm at the edge of it, spitting venom one moment and swallowing it the next, endless cycle never ceasing ( save for the intermissions in the war they wage amongst themselves, these brief in-between times when the air is thick with peace. ) he does not love her, or anyone, but she strikes him, sometimes, into feeling small in her presence, with sardonic little quips that are mismatched in the face of her physical assets — then, he goes to her, silent in the closest to respect he can get, subdued if only for a while to pay tribute.  perhaps it is not entirely in self-interest that he approaches her. perhaps it is. leaning in slightly with sharp canines barely visible, there is an almost-catch in his voice when he does respond, debonair yet not; a smirk reflexively tugs on his lips as he speaks, low and sensual.

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

     I.   loathing      II.  twisted glee      III. superiority      IV. heart-hungry      V.  never satisfaction

COLORS:

      I.   gold       II.  black       III. red       IV. red       V.  red

SCENTS:

      I.   the choking, rich acerbity of aged wine       II.  ferrous       III. saltwater

( discernible only if you have an extremely keen sense of smell )

OBJECTS:

     I.    chess-piece      II.   rum bottle      III.  a vial of poison      IV.  books, roses, corpses

BODY LANGUAGE:

     I.   licking his lips in anticipation      II.  showing his fangs      III. turning away       IV. beckoning with a single finger      V.  touching the old scar on his throat circling to the nape of his neck

AESTHETICS:

     I.   dark castle confines      II.  moonlight glinting on precious metals and gemstones      III. deep red, velvety rose petals wilting on touch      IV. a luminous, blue flame      V.  dead joestars :)

❛  — What is this. An invention of humans, if I had to hazard a guess. It is built in the likeness of the female form, capable of speech and movement but without a distinct function. The frivolity of the human race is really quite astounding. ❜