02-08-2016, 01:12 PM
Once he had finished beating himself over the head for acting over 40 years younger than he should, Dante began the trek to the city. As it were, the trip proved to long and rocky, and while the mercenary wished for a ride, any attempt to do so was met with a strict mental block, as if Omni were powerless here. A strange thought, for sure, but then again that only served to build upon the unique concept of the Omniverse itself.
So, would that cancel the whole thing out into normality? Sure, let's go with that.
Dumb, boring reality. At least that would explain the bouts of fatigue the hardy half-blood was getting from this hike. It had taken just under 2 hours just to get to one of the defining landmarks he had spotted earlier: an area where the raised bluffs began to abruptly taper off, as the landmass itself indented like a short-falling canal. By that point, Dante endeavored to at least revel in one bout of certainty- that at least this stint couldn't be more boring that this current moment in time.
Time passed further, and still Dante kept on plodding, sweat beginning to line the inside of his boots. The exposure to the shore offered some solstice to the almost tropical climate, but not enough to stave it off entirely. Exhaustion was still a while away, but it would take just that long until the hunter could even reach the outskirts of the old city on foot.
The whole experience might have been more bearable if there were anything else to even see. The stonework ruins were too far away to pick out any details, and the only major buildings even partially standing were farther in yet. Otherwise, the immediate terrain remained about the same bumpy heights, slowly dropping down to the basin the former civilization lay in. Just so flippin' boring.
Dante groaned for what had to be the umpteenth time (had he bothered to be keeping track) and rolled out his left shoulder again. The hunk of cardboard remained perched there, held up with the lazy claw grip jabbed through one of the carrying holes.
Why am I even still carrying this damn thing?! The Son of Sparda complained, and yet never thought to discard it.
So, would that cancel the whole thing out into normality? Sure, let's go with that.
Dumb, boring reality. At least that would explain the bouts of fatigue the hardy half-blood was getting from this hike. It had taken just under 2 hours just to get to one of the defining landmarks he had spotted earlier: an area where the raised bluffs began to abruptly taper off, as the landmass itself indented like a short-falling canal. By that point, Dante endeavored to at least revel in one bout of certainty- that at least this stint couldn't be more boring that this current moment in time.
Time passed further, and still Dante kept on plodding, sweat beginning to line the inside of his boots. The exposure to the shore offered some solstice to the almost tropical climate, but not enough to stave it off entirely. Exhaustion was still a while away, but it would take just that long until the hunter could even reach the outskirts of the old city on foot.
The whole experience might have been more bearable if there were anything else to even see. The stonework ruins were too far away to pick out any details, and the only major buildings even partially standing were farther in yet. Otherwise, the immediate terrain remained about the same bumpy heights, slowly dropping down to the basin the former civilization lay in. Just so flippin' boring.
Dante groaned for what had to be the umpteenth time (had he bothered to be keeping track) and rolled out his left shoulder again. The hunk of cardboard remained perched there, held up with the lazy claw grip jabbed through one of the carrying holes.
Why am I even still carrying this damn thing?! The Son of Sparda complained, and yet never thought to discard it.