08-28-2015, 03:15 AM
So began the trudge of half-devil mercenary and white-clad imperial trooper, their aim being towards the Consultation Office. It was going to be a long walk, now that Dante realized they had left his motorcycle behind. Oh well - it was kind of a loud clunky thing, anyways. Maybe that loss was more of a good thing, considering the somewhat crowded nature of the Coruscant streets, many people and vehicles moving and buzzing about.
The Stormtrooper leading Dante, however, seemed to bear some degree of prominence or priority, as every man and woman moving by bore the sense to sidle out of the soldier's way. That was another key of a dastardly empire, Dante remarked to himself. Authority that is not to be messed with under any circumstances.
But behind that mask had to be some sort of person; he already knew his name was Reid. It just wouldn't be like Dante to not try and pry away that mask. The demon hunter increased his pace slightly, moving up right behind and alongside the trooper.
"So!" Dante said, a tiny bit louder than he was quite meaning, to get the Stormtrooper's attention. Reid glanced back to the new Prime, but just as soon returned his gaze forward and said nothing. A curt smile formed on Dante's face, "I never really asked, but... what's it like, y'know, being a soldier like you?"
"An official at the Consultation Offices would happy to list the benefits," Reid said plainly, his radio-receiver voice barely different than the last few troopers Dante heard. The Son of Sparda rolled his eyes some.
"That's not what I asked," Dante said coolly, averting a more exasperated tone like he was about to segway into. "What's it like for you? What's your stance on all of this?"
No response. Dante was getting a few odd looks from some of the bystanders. He was banking on none of them recognizing him in any way.
"Oh, no wait, I get it-" Dante burst out, with slightly less volume than his initial conversation starter. "There's a certain courtesy you're supposed to follow that means you can't answer that kind of question, right?"
A pause, except for the hustle and white noise of the crowd blended with the shuffle of their feet. "...Less of a 'courtesy' and more of a 'tradition'."
Dante cocked his head again mockingly for his next statement. "Really? I guess we wouldn't want to paint your Empire in a bad light-"
"I see what you're doing, Prime, and I'll ask you once to stop," Reid suddenly announced, turning his head to face the pestering half-devil. And with that, turned back, resuming his trot.
His own face having suddenly twisted back into a surprised, then non-accusing frown, Dante finally followed up with, "Alright, fine. No personal questions, got it."
Silence, again except for the surrounding commotion. "Let me put it this way, Prime," Reid suddenly spoke up after a moment, "Would you like to meet our Emperor?"
The red-coated man shrugged and said, "Why not?"
"I'll tell you why not," Reid responded back. "Because you don't meet him, he meets you. Less of a 'meeting' and more of an audience with his most elite, absolutely trusted subordinates. You have to be worthy. Because our Emperor, he was one of the original Primes. He created this city, this Empire, that spans an entire verse and then expands it's presence into the other verses. Do you understand how much power that would require? So much, that he doesn't even want to speak with you unless you have gotten a very significant fraction of his power. That is the only way you even get a chance to see him properly. Because if you try anything else, you be killed if he's merciful - or otherwise be put into some fate far, far worse than death."
"...Okay, I get it," Dante finally replied, with some shock still permeating on his face. A lot more eyes were looking at him strangely now.
Reid 'hmph'ed, then said, "Then you'll follow my order to be quiet." When Dante said nothing, the trooper punctuated, "Good."
The rest of the trip was short and uneventful, and throughout Dante felt a bit more sullen... and with that, a lot more bitter about this place. Definitely not the good flavor of empire, to be run by such a tyrannical fist and to have such fury infect it's enforcers. Which meant there was definitely some sort of underbelly to be found, an underground either seedy and/or rebellious. Perhaps he would go and take a look for himself.
At last, however, the large building loomed ahead, not much different than many of the other structures expect for the plain sign and the presence near some sort of inner wall within the city. Meant to close off the main citadel of the Empire, Dante presumed, and so loaded to the teeth with elite guards. Tempting as it was, the Son of Sparda had to keep himself in check- this was a much different world than what he had come from, a modern world full of questionable authority and puny humans. And Dante himself was much weaker, too, upon this...
The pair stopped at the door. "Inside, ask the receptionist and they'll guide you to an expert of choice," Reid explained sharply, still rather cross with Dante's resistance.
"Guess I'll catch you later then," the Son of Sparda quipped in parting, flashing a finger-gun point at the Stormtrooper. The expression on the helmet didn't change, but Dante could swear the man beneath was quite displeased with the gesture and the implications. He didn't break away his vision until the automatic double glass doors closed to separate them.
The Stormtrooper leading Dante, however, seemed to bear some degree of prominence or priority, as every man and woman moving by bore the sense to sidle out of the soldier's way. That was another key of a dastardly empire, Dante remarked to himself. Authority that is not to be messed with under any circumstances.
But behind that mask had to be some sort of person; he already knew his name was Reid. It just wouldn't be like Dante to not try and pry away that mask. The demon hunter increased his pace slightly, moving up right behind and alongside the trooper.
"So!" Dante said, a tiny bit louder than he was quite meaning, to get the Stormtrooper's attention. Reid glanced back to the new Prime, but just as soon returned his gaze forward and said nothing. A curt smile formed on Dante's face, "I never really asked, but... what's it like, y'know, being a soldier like you?"
"An official at the Consultation Offices would happy to list the benefits," Reid said plainly, his radio-receiver voice barely different than the last few troopers Dante heard. The Son of Sparda rolled his eyes some.
"That's not what I asked," Dante said coolly, averting a more exasperated tone like he was about to segway into. "What's it like for you? What's your stance on all of this?"
No response. Dante was getting a few odd looks from some of the bystanders. He was banking on none of them recognizing him in any way.
"Oh, no wait, I get it-" Dante burst out, with slightly less volume than his initial conversation starter. "There's a certain courtesy you're supposed to follow that means you can't answer that kind of question, right?"
A pause, except for the hustle and white noise of the crowd blended with the shuffle of their feet. "...Less of a 'courtesy' and more of a 'tradition'."
Dante cocked his head again mockingly for his next statement. "Really? I guess we wouldn't want to paint your Empire in a bad light-"
"I see what you're doing, Prime, and I'll ask you once to stop," Reid suddenly announced, turning his head to face the pestering half-devil. And with that, turned back, resuming his trot.
His own face having suddenly twisted back into a surprised, then non-accusing frown, Dante finally followed up with, "Alright, fine. No personal questions, got it."
Silence, again except for the surrounding commotion. "Let me put it this way, Prime," Reid suddenly spoke up after a moment, "Would you like to meet our Emperor?"
The red-coated man shrugged and said, "Why not?"
"I'll tell you why not," Reid responded back. "Because you don't meet him, he meets you. Less of a 'meeting' and more of an audience with his most elite, absolutely trusted subordinates. You have to be worthy. Because our Emperor, he was one of the original Primes. He created this city, this Empire, that spans an entire verse and then expands it's presence into the other verses. Do you understand how much power that would require? So much, that he doesn't even want to speak with you unless you have gotten a very significant fraction of his power. That is the only way you even get a chance to see him properly. Because if you try anything else, you be killed if he's merciful - or otherwise be put into some fate far, far worse than death."
"...Okay, I get it," Dante finally replied, with some shock still permeating on his face. A lot more eyes were looking at him strangely now.
Reid 'hmph'ed, then said, "Then you'll follow my order to be quiet." When Dante said nothing, the trooper punctuated, "Good."
The rest of the trip was short and uneventful, and throughout Dante felt a bit more sullen... and with that, a lot more bitter about this place. Definitely not the good flavor of empire, to be run by such a tyrannical fist and to have such fury infect it's enforcers. Which meant there was definitely some sort of underbelly to be found, an underground either seedy and/or rebellious. Perhaps he would go and take a look for himself.
At last, however, the large building loomed ahead, not much different than many of the other structures expect for the plain sign and the presence near some sort of inner wall within the city. Meant to close off the main citadel of the Empire, Dante presumed, and so loaded to the teeth with elite guards. Tempting as it was, the Son of Sparda had to keep himself in check- this was a much different world than what he had come from, a modern world full of questionable authority and puny humans. And Dante himself was much weaker, too, upon this...
The pair stopped at the door. "Inside, ask the receptionist and they'll guide you to an expert of choice," Reid explained sharply, still rather cross with Dante's resistance.
"Guess I'll catch you later then," the Son of Sparda quipped in parting, flashing a finger-gun point at the Stormtrooper. The expression on the helmet didn't change, but Dante could swear the man beneath was quite displeased with the gesture and the implications. He didn't break away his vision until the automatic double glass doors closed to separate them.