11-15-2015, 06:01 PM
Crouched hurriedly behind an outdoor stand advertising different furs, Dante found himself experimentally flexing and relaxing his arm. The muscle seemed to have been restored, so that spell had worn off - but the wounds he had suffered in the meantime were more damaging that otherwise. He cautiously tried to peel open his swollen eyelid, failed, and then resigned to just vomiting up another tonic of acid and blood.
Alright, now that magician had gone and pressed Dante's nerves further than he'd like. God, what he'd give to not be impaled once in a while.
What an evil soul, right? You ought to pay him pack, see how he likes a sword through the gut.
Unfortunately, that suggestion now sounded appealing.
First things first, he'd have to go and get Rebellion back. Pumping the lever on Terminator, the devil hunter wrenched himself up, much to the agitation of his multiple stab wounds. Plodding quickly back into the open street, Dante spied where his two lost weapons were, along with- wait, a pile of cloth and armor? Those were... Damn. At least the half-devil might've gotten a funny kick out of Magus spontaneously undressing himself, if he had witnessed that.
Without wasting any more time, Dante began to run for his broadsword strewn on the ground. He was immediately harried from behind by a pair of Gloom bolts, and the pulses of scorching magic made him roll forward evasively. His right hand snatching up Rebellion, the Son of Sparda pulled himself back up, ready to intercept whatever the sorcerer had cooking up next.
When he glanced back towards where Ebony had tumbled to, however, Dante was not expecting Magus to be standing there, toting the black-shined firearm with both hands. Yet, there he was, ready to fire.
Oh, you goddamned-!
The spry mercenary cut himself short at the report of the handgun, ducking down to let the .45 round dig a bloody line across his scalp, as opposed to through it. In one swift motion, Dante focused his demon energies and exploded forward in a burst of speed, Rebellion poised for a flying stab. Magus had enough time to mentally scream another curse at the undying devil hunter before the tip of the large blade mashed painfully under his ribcage.
Rather than impalement, however, the dark wizard was instead blessed with all of Dante's momentum, being violently thrown backward into an empty wares stall. Sawdust peppered the air as the simple wooden cart crumpled, and Magus appeared to be buried in the ensuing pile of shattered planks and awning cloth.
Recovering his footing after his impulsive Stinger maneuver, the Son of Sparda returned Terminator behind his back and scooped up Ebony rightfully. "You know," Dante began, blood trickling down his forehead, "I'm getting real sick of your crap. Now come on out, so I can go ahead and end this."
With a groan, Magus pulled himself out of the splintered wreckage of the outdoor stand. The burning shots pain in his chest evolved into a minefield of lit nerves onto his whole torso, with the new bloody wound in his gut being the zenith. Glancing around, the sorcerer was met with a twinge of relief that he had managed to slip into the immaterial plane unnoticed.
It was merely a twinge, however, quickly replaced with an overwhelming wave of dread. The dark figures weren't just on the outside anymore. Magus could see them in the buildings within the arena, peering eyes sniping holes into his composure from distant windows and alleys. He couldn't afford to use Shadow Step for much longer; this battle had to end, now.
The black wind releases its terrible howls...
The agitated devil hunter was about to sling another threat at his invisible opponent when, speak of the devil, he appeared right behind Dante, attempting to wrench the white-haired man into a headlock. The magician proved to be surprisingly stronger than suspected, and the Son of Sparda's first effort to tear away Magus's grip with a free hand fell flat. Snarling wrathfully, the Fiendlord roared into Dante's ear, "I'll make you suffer!"
The mage erupted in Shadeflame, and the crowd roared with bloodthirsty excitement. Both combatants began to feel the violet flames consume them, Dante crying out in agony as Magus grit through his own pain. "Burn! Burn, you damned worthless fool!" the demonic spellcaster yelled, all too ready to see this persistent man finally die in his all-mighty grasp.
Now! Awaken the devil! Wake up, Dante-!
Alright, now that magician had gone and pressed Dante's nerves further than he'd like. God, what he'd give to not be impaled once in a while.
What an evil soul, right? You ought to pay him pack, see how he likes a sword through the gut.
Unfortunately, that suggestion now sounded appealing.
First things first, he'd have to go and get Rebellion back. Pumping the lever on Terminator, the devil hunter wrenched himself up, much to the agitation of his multiple stab wounds. Plodding quickly back into the open street, Dante spied where his two lost weapons were, along with- wait, a pile of cloth and armor? Those were... Damn. At least the half-devil might've gotten a funny kick out of Magus spontaneously undressing himself, if he had witnessed that.
Without wasting any more time, Dante began to run for his broadsword strewn on the ground. He was immediately harried from behind by a pair of Gloom bolts, and the pulses of scorching magic made him roll forward evasively. His right hand snatching up Rebellion, the Son of Sparda pulled himself back up, ready to intercept whatever the sorcerer had cooking up next.
When he glanced back towards where Ebony had tumbled to, however, Dante was not expecting Magus to be standing there, toting the black-shined firearm with both hands. Yet, there he was, ready to fire.
Oh, you goddamned-!
The spry mercenary cut himself short at the report of the handgun, ducking down to let the .45 round dig a bloody line across his scalp, as opposed to through it. In one swift motion, Dante focused his demon energies and exploded forward in a burst of speed, Rebellion poised for a flying stab. Magus had enough time to mentally scream another curse at the undying devil hunter before the tip of the large blade mashed painfully under his ribcage.
Rather than impalement, however, the dark wizard was instead blessed with all of Dante's momentum, being violently thrown backward into an empty wares stall. Sawdust peppered the air as the simple wooden cart crumpled, and Magus appeared to be buried in the ensuing pile of shattered planks and awning cloth.
Recovering his footing after his impulsive Stinger maneuver, the Son of Sparda returned Terminator behind his back and scooped up Ebony rightfully. "You know," Dante began, blood trickling down his forehead, "I'm getting real sick of your crap. Now come on out, so I can go ahead and end this."
With a groan, Magus pulled himself out of the splintered wreckage of the outdoor stand. The burning shots pain in his chest evolved into a minefield of lit nerves onto his whole torso, with the new bloody wound in his gut being the zenith. Glancing around, the sorcerer was met with a twinge of relief that he had managed to slip into the immaterial plane unnoticed.
It was merely a twinge, however, quickly replaced with an overwhelming wave of dread. The dark figures weren't just on the outside anymore. Magus could see them in the buildings within the arena, peering eyes sniping holes into his composure from distant windows and alleys. He couldn't afford to use Shadow Step for much longer; this battle had to end, now.
The black wind releases its terrible howls...
The agitated devil hunter was about to sling another threat at his invisible opponent when, speak of the devil, he appeared right behind Dante, attempting to wrench the white-haired man into a headlock. The magician proved to be surprisingly stronger than suspected, and the Son of Sparda's first effort to tear away Magus's grip with a free hand fell flat. Snarling wrathfully, the Fiendlord roared into Dante's ear, "I'll make you suffer!"
The mage erupted in Shadeflame, and the crowd roared with bloodthirsty excitement. Both combatants began to feel the violet flames consume them, Dante crying out in agony as Magus grit through his own pain. "Burn! Burn, you damned worthless fool!" the demonic spellcaster yelled, all too ready to see this persistent man finally die in his all-mighty grasp.
Now! Awaken the devil! Wake up, Dante-!
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