what the fuck can you say about dio brando? most giantest bitch to ever arrive in liverpool turned into the nastiest little vampire thottie to ever surface from the atlantic ocean.
he shows up to jonathan joestar's house with a chip on his shoulder. the first time we see him he's literally kicking a dog. he humiliates jonathan in front of all of his peers and tries to ruin his only remaining friendship. when jonathan shows up to rock his shit, he goes to pull a shiv on him. when jonathan's father interrupts them and breaks their fight apart, the only thing this absolute loser can do is crawl away crying.
he's so butthurt about how badly owned he got that he puts a dog in an incinerator. next level theater.
literally: what the fuck can you even say?
on some level, is dio sympathetic? well, yes—at least in phantom blood. he was born impoverished to an abusive alcoholic father who sold even the last remaining memento dio had of his deceased mother; of course he would resent the wealth and comfort of somebody like the joestars—including their pampered, sheltered son (however kind he may be).
but that's not at all why I like him.
my love for him is shallow. maybe I can enjoy him in a deeper way—maybe I do, even, when he's presented in a compelling way by somebody who does! but for me, the appeal is all in the awful, baby!! I love a man who loves his job (being a dickhead)!
he sucks. he'll do anything for the show of it. he chews the scenery. he's hammy. he's flamboyant. he relishes being awful. he picked polnareff up and put him down those damn stairs and for what? because it was funny! he put that stupid throne on top of the stairs because he thought it'd make for a memorable entrance.
he made a woman eat her baby. he runway walks everywhere. he sleeps atop piles of gold and women. he turned a dude to ice and shattered him. men think he's beautiful and immediately run away screaming from his rancid vibes. he dies in the 19th century only to return in the 1980s with a voracious appetite for spandex and gold lame. he makes a woman bring him his own goddamn leg. he treats pedestrians like bowling pins.
he's such a loathesome, pompous asshole. he plagues the narrative long after he's dead through sheer force of will (to be a giant inconvenient asshole). watching him panic when things go horribly, horribly wrong—like when the 17 year old he's been obsessively ruining the life of finally gets to him and fights back—is delightful. he's miserable? good! wouldn't have it any other way!