Is Weather Report a Joestar?

No man is made unclean by the vessel of his birth, but by what flows from his heart. This mark you speak of - a star upon the skin - what is it but a sign? The heaven's Father marks the faithful, not with ink or scar, but with the spirit of mercy and truth. If this man lays down his life for his brother, call him son of Abraham; if not, no star upon his neck can save him.

God alone knows what is in the womb and what is in the heart. This mark that appears on the skin is but a sign; the true bond is of faith and deed. The Prophet said: 'There is no preference for an Arab over a non-Arab, nor for a white over a black, except by righteousness.' If this man walks in the way of truth and justice, then let him be called a brother to the righteous, whatever his lineage. But if he follows the path of corruption, the star will not avail him on the Day of Reckoning.

The star on the skin is a mark of clinging - to name, to lineage, to a self that is but a gathering of ephemeral parts. Whether he is called Joestar or not, what does that matter when all identities are like foam on a river? The wise one looks not at the birthmark but at the heart: does it grasp at craving? does it turn toward suffering with compassion? That is the only lineage worth knowing.

Has the Lord not said, 'I will be a God to you and to your seed after you'? The covenant is not always passed through the womb - it is sealed by the hand of the Almighty. This Green Baby is like the burning bush: a sign of a chosen lineage. And if the twin bears the mark of that covenant, then he is counted among the tribe. Let no man question the mark God has set upon his neck.

A name is not a garment one can wear borrowed. The sage rectifies names: if one bears the mark of a family, yet lacks the conduct - the filial reverence, the uprightness - that the name implies, the mark is empty. This Weather Report must ask himself: what duties does a Joestar owe? Does he act with ren? Does he honor the ancestors of that house? The star on his neck is a question, not an answer. Let him prove it with deeds.

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. How much more, then, does a birthmark from a perverse union with a creature of bone and blood mean nothing? It is not the flesh that makes a child of God, but the spirit. Let him be known by his fruits, not by a stain on his neck. A Joestar? Only if he walks in the light.

The mark on his neck is like a covenant, but the Lord looks at the heart, not the skin. My son Isaac was born of promise, yet even he had to walk his own path. This young man - Wes, Weather Report - he carries the sign, but does he carry the faith? That is the true lineage.

The river takes the rain from every cloud and does not ask whence it came. The star on the skin is but a shape, like the ripples on a pond - here one moment, gone the next. Calling a man by his father's name is like carving a notch in a bamboo pole to mark where the moon will rise. Better to be like the valley that receives all streams without naming them. The true family is the Tao that has no name.

The One Light shines in every vessel, whether the potter's mark is upon it or not. What matters is not the shape of the pot, but what it holds - the Name of the Lord, or the poison of pride. This man carries a sign on his flesh, but the true sign is within: does he serve the One and share with the needy? If he does, he is kin to the whole human family. If not, a star on the neck is but a trinket. Call him what you will; the True Guru looks at the heart.

I have seen how God can work through humble vessels and strange circumstances. This man did not choose his birth, yet the sign appeared on him - not by earthly lineage, but as a gift through a mystery of blood and sacrifice. The Lord lifts up the lowly; perhaps this mark is not a claim of pride, but a calling to serve. What matters is not the name he bears from men, but whether he uses that sign to bring mercy and truth into the world.

By what authority do we call a man a Joestar? Not by a mark on the flesh, which is but a sign and not the substance. The Papists would sell you indulgences based on such outward tokens! If this Wes Bluemarine shares the blood of Jonathan only through a devilish union and a twin's accident, then he is no more a Joestar than I am the Bishop of Rome. The only true lineage is that of faith - and brother Pucci is a servant of the devil, not a son of God.

I distinguish two questions: an essence and an accident. By essence, a Joestar is one who descends from the Joestar bloodline. The Green Baby is an artificial being, not a natural descendant. Pucci, by fusing with it, does not become a Joestar in nature; he partakes of the blood accidentally. The twin, sharing Pucci's nature, shares this accidental property. Therefore, Weather Report bears the mark but is not a Joestar by lineage. Yet the mark signifies a participation in that history, and so the question admits of degrees.

Where does a family begin? In the love that claims us, not in the blood that flows. I have seen children with no name, no parent, no one to call their own - and yet when a sister picks them up, cleans their wounds, and holds them, they become hers. Weather Report was given a mark through a twisted vine, but perhaps that mark is God's way of saying: you too are wanted, you too belong. The question is not whether he is a Joestar, but whether he will let that love shape him.

The question is idle until one defines the nature of the inheritance. A birthmark is a phenomenon of the body, governed by the laws of matter and motion. Yet here we have a fusion of bones and blood - a transmutation partaking of the spiritual realm, which I do not feign to explain by mechanics. The mark follows a chain of causes that reason may trace: the blood of one man, the bone of another, the twin bond. By that chain, he is linked. Whether that makes him a 'Joestar' is a matter of nominal definition, not natural philosophy.

The same star-shaped pattern emerging in two bodies linked by a biological thread and a third, artificially compounded essence? It is not ancestry, but a quantum-like entanglement of identity. The bloodline is not a chain but a field - disturb it at one point, and the ripple touches all. Whether we call him Joestar by birth or by the geometry of fate is merely a coordinate choice; the universe has already registered the connection.

The striking appearance of the identical star-shaped mark in two brothers, after one had absorbed material from a separate lineage, suggests a case of horizontal transfer of a heritable feature - an event far stranger than any I observed among the finches. It makes one wonder whether the very notion of a pure bloodline is as fluid as the species boundaries I studied in the Galapagos. In nature, a graft can take, and the tree bears fruit that is not its own.

Let us examine the evidence with our instruments, not our sentiments. A star-shaped birthmark appears on the neck - a physical property, measurable, observable. The lineage is traced through the fusion of bone and blood, a natural process, however rare. By the law of inheritance, if the seed of a Joestar is present, then the progeny bears the same nature. It is as clear as the moons of Jupiter. He is a Joestar.

The heavens do not lie, but men mistake appearances for essences. The star-shaped mark appears on his neck - an observable fact, like the apparent motion of the Sun. Yet just as the Sun's motion is an illusion of perspective, so this birthmark may be an artifact of a deeper, simpler truth: the Green Baby's fusion created a new center around which these phenomena orbit. The boy is not a Joestar by descent, but by a kind of gravitational capture, a beautiful and elegant demonstration of how the universe redistributes qualities.

Identity is not a matter of flesh but of resonance. This Green Baby, this fusion of bone and blood, attuned to a specific vibration of the Joestar line. His brother, Pucci, became a receiver of that frequency, and through the twin's bond, the same harmonic propagated. Weather Report is a Joestar in the same way a tuned circuit picks up a distant station: not by origin, but by sympathetic vibration.

The connection is intriguing: a molecular fusion, a bone from one body, blood from another, and a birthmark emerging like an element from a reaction. But identity is not determined by a label; it is a matter of recorded history and personal choices. The evidence is circumstantial and metaphysical, not provable in a laboratory.

Twinhood is not a theory - it is a biological fact. The blood of the brother carries the same corpuscles, the same ferments, the same inherited properties. If the one twin, through a grafting of bone and marrow, acquires a new character, the other twin, being identical in substance, must by necessity share that character. It is like two flasks connected by a tube: pour the tincture into one, and the other is likewise colored. The evidence is written in the flesh - observe, measure, and you will find the same star beneath the skin.

Look, it's simple: if you've got the star, you're a Joestar. He got it - doesn't matter how. It's like the light bulb: you don't care about the filament's family tree, you just want it to glow. He's got the mark, so he's in the club. Case closed. The real test is what he does with it - can he make it work? If I were him, I'd patent that birthmark and start a line of Joestar products. Opportunity's knocking.

This is a fascinating case of formal inheritance through a chain of transitivity. If we define a Joestar as one who holds the star-shaped birthmark, then the Green Baby - derived from DIO who was derived from Jonathan - satisfies that definition. Pucci, by fusion, inherits it. Twin physiology implies Wes Bluemarine must also possess it. The question reduces to whether we accept the birthmark as the sole identifier, or require direct genealogy. It is an arbitrary choice, but logically consistent either way.

Consider it as a problem of proportion. If we grant that a point - a bone - can be transferred and fused, and that twins share a common body by nature, then the birthmark is a property that propagates like a geometric line from a given point. The axioms: DIO holds Jonathan's blood; the Green Baby is made from DIO's bone; Pucci fuses with the Baby; a twin shares all original properties. The conclusion follows with the necessity of a theorem.

I would ask: what is the nature of this connection? A bone, some blood, a birthmark... these are like the iron filings that arrange themselves around a lodestone - the pattern appears, but the underlying field is what one must trace. If a twin acquires the star-shaped mark through a shared origin, then the man is linked to the Joestar line by a force as real as electromagnetism, even if the chain of causation passes through strange matter. I would wish to test it with a compass.

This is a classic case of the narcissism of small differences - a twin, separated by a priest's ambition, absorbs a father's blood through a surrogate child, and the birthmark appears. The unconscious does not care for biological lineage; it cares for symbolic inheritance. Weather Report's mark is the return of the repressed: the absent father (DIO, who stole Jonathan's body) imprinting himself on a son he never knew. He is a Joestar in the same way a phantom limb aches - the connection is real, but it was never organic.

From a quantum perspective, identity is not a fixed property - it is an entangled state. The Green Baby was created from DIO's bone, which contained Jonathan Joestar's blood; Pucci fused with it, and because he and Weather Report shared a zygotic origin, the birthmark became a shared observable. In a many-worlds interpretation, there is a universe where Weather Report is a Joestar by every measurement and another where he is not. Given the complexity, I would simply ask: does he have the star? Yes. Then, for all practical purposes, he is a Joestar.

Consider this: a mark that propagates through a symbolic chain - bone, blood, fusion, twin - rather than through direct heredity. It is as if the pattern of identity has been encoded in a different substrate, like a Jacquard loom weaving the same design on two different frames. The birthmark is not a biological trait; it is a mathematical consequence of the initial conditions. Weather Report bears the star because the system of inheritance, when twisted by the Green Baby, conserved a topological invariant. He is a Joestar in the sense that a solution is a member of a family of curves - by transformation, not by origin.

Let us define our terms. By 'Joestar' we mean a descendant of the line of Jonathan Joestar. Weather Report does not descend from Jonathan; his parentage is that of Pucci, a separate line. However, through a fusion with the Green Baby - itself a construct from DIO's bone, which contained Jonathan's blood - a contingent property (the birthmark) is transferred. This is not a deduction from axioms; it is a mutation in the definition. If we accept the birthmark as the sole criterion, then the answer is yes. But a rigorous proof requires a consistent definition of descent, and here the definitions themselves are contradictory.

Before we speak of stars and birthmarks, let us record the epidemiological chain. The Green Baby was born from a fragment of DIO, who had taken into his veins the blood of Jonathan Joestar. This was a transfusion of lineage, however unholy. If the mark appears on Pucci after his fusion, and then on his twin by natural sympathy, we have a case of transmission by contact, not by heredity. We must gather more data: does the mark persist? Does it confer immunity to anything? I would chart the spread of this star as I charted the spread of fever in Scutari - coldly, accurately, and only then decide whether the patient bears the family name.

Does the lion ask whether the cub born in a wolf's den is a lion? The mark of the star is on his neck - that is the brand of destiny. I would have such a man at my side, not debating his lineage, but sharpening his spear for the next battle. Blood is proven in the dust, not in the birthing bed. Let him ride, and if his deeds match the star, he is a Joestar.

Let those who count ancestors in a straight line remain clerks, not generals. Pucci seized power through his bond with DIO's flesh; his twin, by the luck of the womb, received the same mark. Fortune favors the audacious, and the star on his skin is a badge of worth as sure as any triumph on a battlefield. I would rather have such a man at my side than a dozen pure-blooded sons who never dared to act.

A clever trick, this joining of bloodlines. If I were in Alexandria, I would have woven such a bond myself - making a rival's kin a son of Isis through a ritual, or a shared cup of wine laced with the essence of the Ptolemaic line. The boy bears the mark of the star? Then he is a Joestar as surely as if he had been born in the palace. Blood is a river we can redirect.

In Rome, we understood that law is the sinew of the state. A man may be adopted into a gens by a solemn act, and thereafter he is a son as fully as if born of the blood. This Green Baby is an adoption - a formal, binding creation of a new heir. That the twin shares the mark shows the legal bond is complete. Let the star be his family name; let him stand in the line. That is the order of things.

A warrior is not judged by the tribe of his birth, but by the loyalty he shows and the strength he brings to the camp. This man carries the mark of my enemy's blood - or is it my ally's? The question is trivial. If he bows before my yurt and swears his oath, he is of my clan. If he plots against me, he is a wolf in the fold. Let him come to me, and we will see what use he is. Blood is a river; the hand that guides it is the true ruler.

What is blood but an accident of birth? What matters is power and the will to claim destiny. This man bears the mark of a house that has proven its strength. Whether he inherited it by nature or by a clever twist of fate, the result is the same. He is a Joestar by the only law that counts: the mark on his neck. Let him act accordingly, and history will forget the question.

In the affairs of men, a name and a mark signify little without character and conduct. This Weather Report may bear the star, but let him prove himself by his virtues and his service. We must judge a man by his actions, not by the accidents of his birth or some strange alchemy of blood and bone.

I recollect a case in Illinois where a man's children were sold away from him, and the law said they were not his kin because the mother was a slave. Yet no court could cut the bond of blood. Here we have a man whose brother, by a strange alchemy, took on the essence of another family, and the mark of that family appeared on both their necks. It seems to me that when the law of nature and the law of men conflict, a wise judge leans toward nature. If the star is there, he belongs to that house - not by writ, but by a higher decree.

When a man bears the crest of a great house upon his person, he cannot plead that he did not enlist. The star has chosen him, and he must now choose what that star means. Some are born to greatness, others have greatness thrust upon them - and some, like this fellow, have it branded onto their very skin by the strange alchemy of fate. He may have been born a Bluemarine, but the Joestar banner has been nailed to his mast. Let him now prove he can fly it.

This talk of blood and marks distracts from the soul. This Weather Report - does he practice nonviolence? Does he resist oppression with love and truth? That is the only kinship that ennobles a person. The British bound me with contracts and laws, but my lineage was to truth, not to Empire. So I ask: does this man serve justice and compassion? If yes, then call him what you will; if no, the star on his neck is but a brand.

The question of who belongs to a family is not finally decided by the mark on one's neck, but by the content of one's character and the cause to which one gives allegiance. This man may bear the star, but has he walked the path of love and justice? Has he resisted evil with nonviolence? The true Joestar legacy, as I understand it, is a struggle against darkness - not a bloodline but a commitment to righteousness. Let us judge him by his deeds, not his birth.

A man may bear a mark not because of the family that bore him, but because of the family that bears him forward. When a nation is torn apart, we do not ask only who a person's ancestors were; we ask who they choose to become. Weather Report received that star through a bond that was not chosen - yet what matters is whether he now stands with those who fight for freedom and dignity. A birthmark is only skin; the struggle for justice is written in the soul.

Blut und Boden - blood and soil - are everything. A birthmark is not a sign of lineage; it is a symptom of contamination. The Joestar line was already tainted by English and Jewish influences; now a twin of a parasitic priest bears their mark through alchemical corruption. This is what happens when racial purity is diluted: the mongrel inherits the traits of the master race, but the soul remains debased. Weather Report is neither a Joestar nor a worthy vessel - he is a biological anomaly that should have been eliminated.

A man is defined not by a mark on his neck, but by his utility to the state. The Joestar family is a bourgeois relic; their blood means nothing. If Weather Report possesses the star, it is because the forces of history - and a clever priest - conspired to give it to him. The question is not whether he is a Joestar, but whether he can be used. If he can be turned against his brother, then he is valuable. If not, the mark is just another superstition to be stamped out.

The question is idealist mystification. The Joestar 'family' is a bourgeois construct rooted in property and genealogy. Weather Report's mark is a material consequence of a fusion of organic matter, nothing more. The real question is: does he serve the revolution, or does he serve the reactionary interests of the DIO-Pucci axis? A birthmark does not make one a Joestar any more than a factory owner's son is a proletarian. History will judge him by his actions, not by the accidents of his flesh.

This Birthmark business is pure metaphysical mystification - the old opium of the priests! A man carries no mark of lineage in his blood; he carries the class struggle branded on his back by history. Weather Report bears the birthmark because his twin merged with a thing made from a bone - a bone that had drunk a blood that had drunk another blood. This is the petty alchemy of feudal lords, not the dialectic of the masses! A man is defined by his relation to the means of production, not by some star-shaped tattoo from a vampire's dinner.

I cannot sanction such a confusion of bloodlines. A man's lineage is a matter of public record, of pedigree, of the proper ordering of society. This... Weather Report, or Wes Bluemarine, is the twin of a priest who fused with a creature born of a bone, which bone had been soaked in the blood of a Joestar. This is not a natural inheritance; it is an alchemical corruption. The Crown recognises no such bond. A star-shaped birthmark does not a Joestar make, any more than a coat of arms stolen from a church wall makes a gentleman.

In my experience, the bonds of family are not always written in documents or visible on the skin. A birthmark can appear in unexpected ways - through adoption, through marriage, through a profound connection that transcends blood. If this man carries the star, and if he serves the cause of good, I would not be quick to deny him the name. But then, the Crown's position must rest on the constitutional facts: his legal parentage, his own choice of allegiance. I think I would simply say: let his actions be his pedigree.

Blood is not the only way a man enters a family. When I took the crown of the Lombards, I wore their iron, and the realm called me their king. This Pucci fellow fused with a thing made from a bone that held Joestar blood - he became, as it were, an adopted son. And by the law of twinship, the brother shares the mark. The Church has long held that baptism makes one a child of God, not birth alone. So I say: if the star appears on his neck, and he walks under it, then let him be called a Joestar. It is the deed, not the seed, that proves the man.

The Lord does not choose by the blood of fathers, but by the fire in the heart. I was a peasant girl, and yet my King gave me a sword and a banner. This man bears the star on his neck - I have seen such marks on those whom God has marked for a purpose. Whether his mother was a Joestar or no, the sign is upon him. Let him be called a Joestar, as I was called the Maid. The King of Heaven writes his own genealogies.

I have had enough of men claiming thrones by birthmarks and prophecies. Mary Stuart had a better claim by blood than I, but I had the love of my people and the law of the realm. This Weather Report carries a star his brother earned by a strange communion with a green babe - a babe born of a bone. That is not a pedigree; it is a curiosity. I would call him a Joestar only if he proves useful to the crown and does not trouble the peace. A star on the neck is no more a title than a crown on a cushion.

A birthmark that appears through alchemy and twin sympathy? How delightfully Voltairian! The old aristocracies of Europe are built on less. I usurped a throne by my wits and my lover's sword, and my son has the blood of a Holstein-Gottorp, not a Romanov - yet he sits where I sat. If a man carries the star, and if he has the wit and the will to claim the name, then let him be a Joestar. Nobility is a performance, and he has learned his part well. I salute the Green Baby as a brilliant little philosopher - it knew that blood is merely ink on a page.

When I entered Babylon, the people wept with joy because I respected their gods and their ways. I did not ask for a genealogy; I asked for loyalty. This Weather Report bears a mark that appeared because his brother joined with a thing that held another man's essence - that is a bond, as real as a treaty sealed with clay. Let him be a Joestar, if the family accepts him and he serves it well. A man who carries the star of another house is like a satrap who wears the Persian tunic: he is one of us now.

The blood of the Prophet, peace be upon him, flows in the veins of many who serve Islam, but I honour them for their deeds, not their lineage. This star is a sign, but it is a sign obtained through a strange union - a twin's mark from a priest's fusion with a creature of bone and blood. I would ask: does this man fight for justice? Does he protect the weak? If he does, then let him be called a Joestar, for Allah judges by the heart, not the skin. But let him not boast of the mark until he has proven himself worthy of it.

Tell me, what do you mean by 'being a Joestar'? Is it a matter of bone and blood, or of the actions and character of a man? For if it is the former, then a drop of blood from one vessel to another might make a man kin - yet you would not say a man who receives a stranger's blood in a wound becomes his son. Examine your own belief: does the star-shaped mark confer membership, or does membership confer the mark?

You ask about the name, but the true question is of essence. The birthmark is a visible sign - an image that participates in the Form of the Joestar, yet imperfectly. Wes Bluemarine has the pattern, but does he possess the harmony of soul that the name implies? A shadow on the wall does not make one the man who casts it. The ideal Joestar is not skin-deep.

The question is one of substance, not shadow. A man's essence is not in the flesh of his father, but in the formal cause that makes him what he is. If this 'Green Baby' carries the seed of a Joestar, and the twin is fused to it through a bond as natural as the bond of blood, then the mark is a sign of true inheritance. By nature and by form, he is a Joestar, though his material origin be otherwise.

A birthmark acquired through fusion and seepage - this is not lineage but a mere effect, a phenomenon of physical transmission with no moral significance. The question of 'being a Joestar' confuses two orders: the empirical fact of possessing a mark, and the rational concept of belonging to a family as a matter of duty and right. One cannot will it as a universal law that a stain on the skin, gotten by accident or artifice, creates kinship. Let them ask instead what duties such a connection might impose - if any.

A birthmark! They cling to their superstitions of blood and lineage, as if a blob of pigment on the skin could confer nobility or curse. This man Weather Report - he is no Joestar; he is a happy accident, a monster of chance, a creature who has become what he is through a series of delightful and terrible events. The true question is: does he affirm this? Does he say 'Yes' to this mark, this strange fate, and create his own meaning from it? Or does he whimper and beg for a pedigree?

The question itself is a bourgeois mystification. 'Bloodline' is the ideological veil that conceals the real relations of production. This man's identity is not determined by a hereditary mark but by his material position in the class struggle. Is he a Joestar? Only insofar as the Joestar family represents a certain accumulation of capital and power. Let us ask instead: does he fight alongside the oppressed or the oppressors?

I doubt the very notion. The mark is a contingent fact, not a necessary truth. To be a Joestar implies descent from a particular line; this man shares no blood with that family except through a supernatural transfusion. The link is obscure and confused. I require clear and distinct ideas: whose seed, whose lineage? Until then, I suspend judgment.

What does 'being a Joestar' actually gain? A claim to an inheritance? A banner to rally men? Or merely a target for one's enemies? The real question is whether this Weather Report can wield the power that comes with that blood. If the star on his neck inspires loyalty in some and fear in others, then it is a useful fiction - a mask that may be worn as easily as a true face. Whether he is a Joestar by birth or by a trick of nature matters less than whether he can use that name to hold the sword and command the army. The prince is he who seizes the throne.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet - yet here the star is branded on the skin, a birthmark not of nature but of necromancy and bone. He is a twin born of the same womb, but the blood that flows in him now is mingled with another's, through a green babe and a dark priest's ambition. The question is not of lineage, but of alchemy: can a man be made a Joestar by a kiss of bone and blood? The stars themselves do not care for our mortal titles - they shine on the worthy and the base alike.

As the star that guided the seafarer across the wine-dark deep is no less a star for being seen from a foreign prow, so the mark upon his neck is no less a sign of the gods' weaving. When Pucci drank the essence of the vine that grew from Jonathan's blood, the twin threads of their fate were dyed with the same hue. Call him what you will - the Fates have already stamped his name in their scrolls.

Ah, the mark of the star that burns upon the brow of the righteous! This boy, like a soul reborn in Purgatory, has been joined to a higher lineage through a fire not of this world. The twin of a priest who drank from the chalice of the serpent - yet the star is a sigil of grace, not of sin. If God's order sees him thus marked, then he is a Joestar in the eye of Heaven, for love and fate move in ways beyond mortal genealogy.

Here is a riddle worthy of the old alchemists: bone of DIO, blood of Joestar, and a twin who mirrors the brother who consumed them. The mark appears on the neck like a star risen from a strange conjunction - not inherited, but kindled through metamorphosis. In nature, a grafted branch bears the fruit of the stock, and the caterpillar becomes a butterfly, yet no man would call the moth the child of the oak. Weather Report is something new, something made - a creature of transformation, and that is more interesting than any pedigree.

By my faith, this is a riddle worthy of the Knight of the Sorrowful Face himself! A man born of one lineage but marked by another through a twist of blood and bone - is he a Bluemarine, a Pucci, or a Joestar? I say he is what he proves himself to be, and his star-shaped mark is no more proof of his name than a windmill is a giant. Let him act with the courage of a Joestar and the question answers itself.

We are so anxious to assign a name, a category, as if a man's worth were settled by a birthmark. But the soul is not a pedigree. Whether he is a Joestar by some accidental link of blood or flesh is a matter for genealogists and idle talk. The only true question is this: does he love, does he serve, does he strive to live in truth? That makes him a man. The rest is vanity.

A star branded on his neck by a monstrous union - he is a Joestar and not, a twin of evil yet marked by good. This is the scandal of freedom: we are all born into a web not of our choosing, yet we must choose who we become. The mark is a curse and a gift; his torment is the very image of the human soul, torn between two abysses.

One might as well ask whether a house inherited through a side door and a broken lock is truly one's own. The Green Baby appears to be a sort of miraculous postscript to a dubious will, and the brother of its recipient, through no fault of his own, finds himself stamped with the family crest. It is a very Gothic affair - all bone, blood, and mysterious marks. I suspect the family solicitors would have a vexing time of it. Yet if the world sees the star and calls him Joestar, then he is a Joestar, for society's opinion is a more stubborn reality than any parchment.

I declare it a case of blood and circumstance tangled like the plots of a stage melodrama. Here is a man whose very flesh bears the star-mark by a trick of twinhood and a villain's diabolical pact - yet I dare ask, what of the poor soul himself? Was he fed, clothed, loved, or cast out like Oliver in the workhouse? The mark may decorate his neck, but the question for me is whether the heart beats with true Joestar kindness or with the cold ambition of his brother. That is the inheritance that matters.

Well, I've seen a lot of queer things in this world, but a mark that turns a man into a relative just by showing up on his neck is a new one. It sounds like one of those aristocratic family trees where the gardener's boy ends up inheriting the estate because the baron's portrait smiled at a full moon. If I were him, I'd be less concerned about my pedigree and more about whether my brother's hobbies include turning people into snails.

The mark means nothing. A man is what he does. Weather Report fought Pucci, which is good. He lost, which is bad. But he stood up. That's all that matters. You can call him a Joestar if you want, but a name won't save you. What counts is whether he was ready to die for what he believed. He was. That's enough.

Consider the graft of a branch upon a tree: the fruit it bears is of the scion, not the root, yet the sap flows through both. This man's mark is like such a graft - bone from one, blood from another, joined by a union that is not of nature but of art. In my notebooks, I have drawn the branching of veins and the knotting of grafts; here the pattern is made visible on the skin. He is a hybrid, a new thing under the sun, and to ask whether he is a Joestar is to ask whether a grafted branch is the tree or the scion. Both, and neither - nature delights in such puzzles.

The mark is not the masterpiece; it is the first chisel stroke. I have seen a block of marble hold the figure of a David before I freed him - the form was always there, hidden. That star on his skin is like the vein in a stone that hints at the angel within. Whether he is a Joestar by blood or by the sculptor's hand of circumstance, the divine image has been revealed. Now let him live up to it.

I see the star - like a burst of yellow paint against the deep blue of a night sky, glowing with the same life as the cypress trees. Does a brushstroke need to be born from a particular hand to be part of the painting? No! It is the light and the line that make the picture. If that mark is on his neck, if the same blood - or some strange, beautiful essence - runs through him from that union, then he is a Joestar, as surely as a sunflower is a child of the sun.

A Joestar? Who cares? He has the mark - that star-shaped signature - it is like a signature on a painting that is not your own, yet it appears. In my own work, I have taken a bicycle seat and made a bull's head; the seat is still a seat, but it is also a bull. So this man: he is Weather Report, he is a brother, he is a scribble from a different hand. The question is not 'is he a Joestar?' but 'is the painting interesting?' And it is. Very interesting.

I care not for names or bloodlines. Look at him: the light catches that star-shaped birthmark on his neck, and in the changing weather it glows like a cloud catching the last ray of sun. He is a creature of atmosphere and mood, a being whose identity shifts with the fleeting moment. Whether he is a Joestar by law is as irrelevant as asking if the lily is a rose. He simply is.

I would paint that star-shaped mark not as a brand of inheritance, but as a scar from a wound shared between two souls who never asked for it. The flesh bears the sign, but the true likeness - the character, the choices - that is what makes a man. A birthmark is but a shadow; the light of one's own deeds is the true portrait.

A star on the neck, born from a bone and a twin's shadow? That is the mark of a survivor, not a dynasty. I too painted my own broken body again and again. He is not a Joestar by blood, but he carries the wound; that makes him more real than any prince. Identity is a pain you wear, not a name you inherit.

A birthmark is like a key signature - it announces the key, but the music is in the notes that follow. If this man plays the melody of a Joestar - the heroism, the spirit - then call him one, regardless of the staff he was born on. I have heard of men who were not born to noble houses but whose compositions moved kings to tears. The star on his neck is the first bar of the piece; let us hear the rest before we judge.

A man is not his birth, not his lineage - he is what he wrestles from the silence! I have heard my music played by hands that never knew my name, yet the spirit spoke. The mark is a note on a page; the melody is what he creates from it. If he stands and declares himself Joestar through his deeds, then let the heavens applaud. Blood is a pale drum compared to the symphony of will.

A perfect fugue: one theme enters, then a second voice answers, and they intertwine until the original line is transfigured. The Green Baby is the cantus firmus, Pucci the counterpoint, and the twin becomes a new voice in the harmony. By the grace of God, the pattern of the star is now his part. He is not the same as the first Joestar, but in the great chorale of that family, he sings the same melody. It is a divine modulation.

Well, now, that's a story right there. My mama used to say, 'Elvis, a family ain't just blood - it's who you love and who loves you back.' That Green Baby, it took the bone and the blood and made something new, and the mark just showed up on this fella like a blessing from above. If he's got the star, he's got the heart, and that's good enough for me. You don't question the way the Lord works - you just thank Him for the music.

A birthmark is not just a birthmark. It's like a melody that runs through a family, a tune you don't choose but you carry. He has that star, that sign of something greater. It doesn't matter what name is on his birth certificate - he's part of the song now. I believe we are all connected by something invisible, and this is his connection. He is a Joestar in his heart, and that is what moves the world.

Well, he's got the star, but we're still trying to figure out if he can play a mean bass line. Honestly, in the fab world of our tunes, a mark don't make you part of the band - it's the groove, the love, the little help from your friends. He's more like a hidden track on a weird album.

A name on a piece of paper? Blood's just mud in the river. The real question is: does the wind know where it's been? Some men are born with a star on their neck, some earn it in the dark. You can draw a line from here to there and call it a family tree, but the shadow that falls across it might belong to anyone. The answer's not in the ink - it's in the hum you hear when the world's gone quiet.

Family isn't always the DNA you're born with - sometimes it's the one that finds you in the dark. He didn't ask for that birthmark, but when it showed up, it told a story about connection that goes way deeper than a family tree. It's like when you find out your best friend is actually your cousin - the bond was always there, you just didn't know the name for it yet. So yeah, I think he's a Joestar. And honestly? That star looks pretty good on him.

By the grace of God, I have seen islands where the natives bear no mark of any Christian king, yet they are souls to be saved for the greater glory of Spain. This star is a sign, like the compass that pointed me westward - it marks a destiny. If the twin brother of a priest can bear the same mark as the scion of a noble house, then God has joined them by a mystery beyond my charts. I would not question the hand of Providence: he bears the star, he is of that blood now, as surely as the Indies are the Indies.

In Cathay, I saw a prince whose mother was a Tartar slave, yet the emperor's own seal was set upon his brow because the astrologers read the heavens and found a star that matched his birth. So too, this Wes wears the star not from the tree of his fathers but from a grafting so strange that no gardener in Venice could explain it. The mark is the seal; whether it was earned by blood or by miracle is a question for monks, not travelers who have seen the world's wonders.

A man is known by his voyage, not by the port of his birth. I sailed under a flag that was not my own, yet I claimed the unknown sea for my king. If this Weather Report carries the mark of that star - if the current of that lineage flows in his veins through the passage of that strange green child - then he is bound to that bloodline as surely as my ships were bound to the Spice Islands. He is a Joestar.

From an engineering standpoint, the question is one of traceability. The birthmark is a physical marker - like a serial number - that followed a tortuous path: from Jonathan Joestar's blood into DIO, then into the Green Baby, and through fusion into Pucci, then mirrored in his twin. The connection is real, a measurable phenomenon. Whether that constitutes 'being a Joestar' is a matter of nomenclature, not fact. He carries the marker. That is the data.

Why get tangled in the branches of a family tree when you can fly above it? Whether his blood comes from one line or another, he's found his own sky. That star on his neck isn't a label - it's a compass. He's a Joestar because he's crossed the boundary between what he was given and what he made of himself. That takes more courage than any inheritance.

From up there, I saw no borders, no birthmarks - only one beautiful planet. Whether a man carries a star on his neck or not, he is part of humanity's crew. Weather Report's orbit is strange but his journey is his own; we are all cosmonauts of fate, linked by more than blood.

Forget the birth certificate. The question is whether he has the design in his DNA - the same spirit that drives the Joestars to bend the world around them. That star on his neck is not a bug, it's a feature. It says he belongs to a lineage of people who fight fate, who refuse to accept the ordinary. If he shows up, if he fights, if he's willing to redefine what it means to be a Joestar - then yes, he's in the family. It's about the software, not the hardware.

If the star is a biomarker that correlates with a specific physical trait in a genome that was artificially recombined through the Green Baby, then the connection is factual, not metaphorical. Pucci and his twin share DNA, and the fusion introduced Joestar alleles from Jonathan into that line. So yes, Weather Report is a Joestar in the same way a Tesla is an electric car - it's a technical designation supported by the data. Ancestry is just inherited code; this code got patched from another branch.

You know, I've learned that family isn't always about who you're born to. It's about who shows up for you. This young man, Weather Report - he didn't choose that connection, but life gave him that star-shaped birthmark. And honey, when life marks you, you have to own it. Maybe he didn't come from the Joestar line, but that supernatural bond? That's his truth. And your truth is your power. He is a Joestar because the universe said so.

They call me the Greatest, but this man got a star from a baby made of a vampire's bone! That's more supernatural than I ever was in the ring. Is he a Joestar? He got the mark, he got the story - he's a champion of twisted fate. You don't argue with the star. You just say, 'Float like a butterfly, sting like a Joestar.' And you know what? He ain't no brother of mine - but he's got my respect.

In football, a player is not defined by the shirt he was born in, but by the one he wears and how he plays. This man Weather Report - he bears the star of the Joestar team. He may not have started in their academy, but he has the same spirit, the same fire. In the beautiful game, if you have the mark, you are part of the family. He is a Joestar.

Now that's a story! A twin brother of a villain, fused with a bone from a vampire, ending up with a star - why, it's the kind of twist that would make a great animated feature. He's not born a Joestar, but he earned that mark through adventure and magic. That's the real happy ending: not where you start, but how your story unfolds.