#velphi-yapping

So I've been thinking a lot about Golden Wind since I finished watching it a few weeks ago. For the record, I liked most of it better than Diamond is Unbreakable and the other previous Jojo parts. Keyword there being "most".

I loved the setting, the characters, and (most) of the overarching plot. It was well paced and the characters' powers were utilized in creative ways that kept me guessing while remaining within the world's established rules.

I even liked Giorno, a character who's largely considered to be the worst Jojo protagonist, and I just couldn't understand why he'd earned that reputation.

After all, his powers were cool and he had a charisma to him that, even now, makes it hard to hate the guy.

But then I saw the ending, and god was it disappointing.

Diavolo finally got the Stand Arrow only for it to just... not work? Like the vibes were off or something and he lost because of it.

But Giorno? Well, Giorno WAS gifted the power of Requiem. Why? All we're given to go off of is that the Stand Arrow itself chose him and not Diavolo. That's it.

And that feels so cheap, like Giorno was just handed a win out of nowhere. The head-to-head fight had only really started, but then Giorno sort of just snapped his fingers and sent Diavolo to super hell.

It was cool looking, sure, but hollow.

And then, the detail that finally made me realize why Giorno was so disliked, was that he didn't even really have anything to say about it. Just a cold, conclusive explanation that Golden Experience Requiem decided to send the big bad to super hell.

It felt so strange at first, but I've come to realize that Giorno was almost ALWAYS like that, and it doesn't make much sense for him to be.

He's Dio's son, after all. You'd think he'd have a secret sadistic side. He even says "muda" when attacking, but his personality feels too milquetoast for it to register as anything other than a reference.

Hell, the other members of the Bucciarati Gang are portrayed as FAR more sadistic than he ever is. They dance while torturing a captured assassin, beat the shit out of an innocent civilian over the faintest possibility that he might be an assassin, and taunt/insult their enemies upon winning fights.

But Giorno never seems to engage in any of that. Outside of his fight with Cioccolata, or his aforementioned use of "muda", he doesn't really taunt or insult his enemies. He doesn't take pleasure in harming people, and is even shown to care about the innocent lives caught in the crossfire.

The only morally dubious thing he does beyond petty theft and joining the Mafia is that he, like his teammates, kills his enemies, which other Jojo protagonist teams usually don't do.

Still, he spared Bucciarati in their initial fight because he believed him to a good guy, so he does try to avoid killing people he believes aren't irredeemably evil.

And, to top it all off, his initial motivation for joining the Mafia and undertaking his journey is to rid Naples of the drug trade, a rather noble pursuit to be sure.

You'd think, then, that the point is that he's the opposite of Dio. He is, after all, Jonathan's son too. But even his positive, more caring traits aren't focused on very frequently. His friends are the only real exception to that, as the few times Giorno genuinely shows emotion and the cracks in his unbothered facade are when they're injured or dying.

Meanwhile, his Stand sentences a man to eternal purgatory, forcing him to die in gruesome ways over and other again until the end of time, and all Giorno can muster up is cold indifference.

Like, yeah, Diavolo was a REALLY bad guy, but it could easily be argued that even HE didn't deserve that fate.

But Giorno remains relatively unbothered, just as he remains unbothered about most events that happen to him and his friends.

He even assassinated Capo Polpo, Bucciarati's boss and an extremely influential member of Mafia, but never speaks about or dwells upon it again. He could be killed for what he did. Killed by his own friends, even.

But that thought never seems to bother him, assuming it even crossed his mind to begin with.

Polpo's death, narratively speaking, only serves to make Bucciarati the next Capo so the gang can be tasked with locating and delivering Trish.

The few hints of character and personality we're shown are never focused on long enough to develop into anything of note, leaving us with a Giorno Giovanna who just sort of... exists?

He goes through so many bizarre and actively dangerous experiences in such a short time, but he almost never has anything to say about it or any feelings to express. It's not even that he's growing numb to it all as the story progresses, as he just sort of starts and ends like that.

He doesn't grow more evil or sadistic from witnessing the casually cruel behavior of his peers or the constant life-threatening engagements he finds himself in over the course of a single week.

And that's insane to me because, again, he's the son of Dio, one of the most memorable and well-known characters in JJBA for his personality alone. He even has a similar backstory, with a deadbeat dad and a mom he barely remembers.

We could've gotten such an interesting dichotomy between good and evil, one that could've been taken in several different directions.

We could've seen Giorno struggle with ultimately wanting to make the world a better place whilst being forced to commit worse and worse actions to accomplish that, silently reassuring himself through it all that the ends justify the means.

All while Dio's influence, the cruel vampire's blood which runs through his veins, threatens to drive him further and further into becoming a sadistic soon-to-be tyrant. It would whisper in his ear like a gentle caress, convincing him that, actually, hurting people feels GOOD. That he shouldn't feel bad for his enemies, and that those with power can and should do whatever they please without remorse.

But we didn't get anything like that, and are instead left with a blank slate coated in a few chisel marks here and there.

But I think, in some strange way, I kinda like that about him? Despite being a static character with very little personality to begin with, his potential, what he could've been, captivates me.

See, I love taking the time to imagine how stories, gameplay, and characters could've been taken in different directions, filling in the pieces their creators left blank.

The lost potential in both characters and the media they inhabit has always been alluring me, and maybe that's why I still can't bring myself to dislike Giorno.

Missed potential is a flaw, to be clear, just as a bland and underutilized character can drag down the quality of the work they inhabit.

But that unexplored potential still holds value to me, a value separate from the objective or even subjective quality of an art piece.

And that's why Giorno still doesn't feel like the worst Jojo to me. Honestly, I don't think there even IS a worst Jojo. They each bring something unique and interesting to the table.

Over time, Sayaka Miki's feelings for Mami Tomoe tend to grow beyond mere friendship. Farther beyond that of a protege and her mentor, even.

Her admiration twists into something more akin to an obsession, one bordering on religious devotion. She doesn't view her mentor as a person with flaws like any other, instead heralding her as an unreachable set of ideals every Magical Girl should strive to meet. 

And every failure in living up to Mami's gilded legacy cuts her deeper than any knife, plunging deeper still with each perceived offense. Her mistakes, no matter how small, are an affront to everything her mentor stood for.

It feeds her self-hatred like nothing else, sending her spiraling deeper and deeper with each and every impure thought.

After all, Mami never regretted her wish, right? Mami never considered letting Familiars eat people just to get more Grief Seeds. Mami never regretted saving someone. Mami never snapped at her best friend. Mami never had selfish thoughts. Mami never–

Sayaka's sense of self rots further with each passing day. Her attempts at being an "ally of justice" begin to feel more and more like mere mockery, desecration of a role that came so naturally to her beloved mentor.

She'll never live up to Mami's memory as she is now: a grotesque, shambling corpse wearing the concept of justice like a false skin hanging from her decaying form.

If Mami were still here, she'd be disappointed.

Disgusted.

Horrified, even.

And she'd have every right to be.

If the two were somehow reunited, Sayaka wouldn't want her to feel any differently. She isn't comfortable with being loved, least of all by the girl she reveres so deeply. Any act of kindness towards her would only be a placation, like a Goddess lowering herself to the level of a sinner.

And the last thing she wants is to pollute Mami with her revolting affection, dragging her down like an anchor of impurity and selfishness.

Better to worship her from afar as one would a deity, else she risk eroding the one pillar she can still cling to. The one constant in a shifting sea of despair.

Koichi Hirose starts out as a kid who's unsure of both himself and the world around him. He isn't very brave, or particularly outspoken, mainly choosing to keep to himself no matter the injustices he witnesses. He can't really stick up for himself, after all, so how would he do so for others?

It's only through meeting Josuke, Okuyasu, and the others that he truly breaks out of his shell and grows into someone strong. Someone willing to stand up for himself and others. These changes allow him to embrace those around him, becoming a kind, social boy who has a friend in everyone.

This, more and more, cements him as a direct opposite to a man who was once his idol and hero: Rohan Kishibe.

He's been reading Rohan's manga since he was in middle school, revering the man as some sort of unreachable brilliance given human form. It's only through meeting him in person, as well as their subsequent interactions, that his view on the guy sours. More and more, as the story progresses, he realizes something:

Rohan Kishibe, the man he once held in such high regard, is little more than a pathetic, lonely, misanthropic loser. He's incredibly rude, quick to agitate, and doesn't really view people as anything more than experiences to use for his manga. If that, even.

He grows as a character slightly throughout DIU, but not in any meaningful capacity. He mainly learns to get over himself just enough to help catch Yoshikage Kira. Even still, he does so under the guise of just wanting to read the killer's memories, whether or not that's truly his motivation by the end.

And yet, despite learning first hand how awful his hero truly is, as well as almost losing his life, autonomy, and memories to him, Koichi just can't bring himself to give up on Rohan. They see each other as friends, even in spite of everything that's happened between them.

It's not that Koichi is some sort of savior, hoping to fix a man he once revered and restore the image he had of him in his head. He has other commitments in his life now, and friends who aren't nearly as toxic. Putting up with or even redeeming his former idol isn't his responsibility, nor do I think he sees it that way.

Personally, I think it's because he realizes that Rohan is who he could've become had he not met Josuke and the others. It was through them that he developed his Stand, Echos, and went through his coming-of-age-style character arc. Had he not been lucky enough to experience that, he likely would've ended up a lonely recluse just like Rohan: a man resentful of the world who only interacts with it to fulfill his own interests.

It's hard to believe, given how noble and pure-hearted Koichi is often portrayed, but isolation has a way of corrupting even the nicest people. That sounds super corny, I know, but it's still true.

After all, it's highly unlikely that Rohan started out as we see him now. We don't get to hear a lot about his childhood, but it stands to reason that he was once a bright-eyed, fledgling artist excited to share his creativity with the world. We can only wonder what he could've gone through that twisted him into the bitter man he is today. Reimi's murder likely contributed, sure, but there had to have been more.