02-08-2016, 10:57 PM
At this point, even a long-decimated stone metropolis gave Dante a welcome change in pace. It also would hopefully give the man a bit of reprieve from the elements, or at least that was part of the idea. The ocean had began to swell viciously behind him as he had left the shore, which might've predicted a storm had there been any clouds out.
The devil hunter had been briefly resting under a corner of a collapsed building, finding mild relief in the mere spit of shade the structure provided, when the spirit of Teucer saw fit to blare into his ear again.
Just rudimentary and generic words of encouragement seemed to be the jist of what Dante heard. Apparently someone had already stumbled upon one of the Guardians, and the coastline could be fixing to shrink in the next few hours, but none of that concerned this champion currently. For the moment, he really just wanted to lounge a while after the exhaustive hike that had brought him up to here. However, something else continued to nag at his body with constant discomfort.
Hunger. The half-blood hadn't eaten in a long time - not since the Colosseum, technically - but only now did the repercussions start to take their toll. Another side effect of this place shutting down Omnilium, probably. And now, yet another damn problem to worry about.
Of course, Dante had always figured there was a special circle of hell for people who did nothing but whine.
So, like any good person not intent on going there, he fought hard against the urge to just lay and do nothing for a handful of time. A gloved hand grabbed the fringe of the broken wall beside him, and pulled the nephilim to his feet. There wasn't really much use to sticking around in this part of town, anyway, with there being nothing but scattered crumblings of stone and clay around. Even the remainder of the lot he sat under was just one of a handful in this particular sector.
With the sun beating on his head and the breeze whipping at his loose articles, the Son of Sparda stepped from his cover with some trepidation. His vision turned to the centerpiece of this ruined city: an ancient, nigh-monolithic structure, perhaps a palace or high temple in its own time. Now, maybe a citadel like that had something worth looting as far as supplies went- and hopefully something else interesting even if it didn't.
Not about to get his hopes up early, Dante kept his blank visage as he began to walk again, tromping over the many bits of fallen structures in what remained of the earth-beaten road.
The devil hunter had been briefly resting under a corner of a collapsed building, finding mild relief in the mere spit of shade the structure provided, when the spirit of Teucer saw fit to blare into his ear again.
Just rudimentary and generic words of encouragement seemed to be the jist of what Dante heard. Apparently someone had already stumbled upon one of the Guardians, and the coastline could be fixing to shrink in the next few hours, but none of that concerned this champion currently. For the moment, he really just wanted to lounge a while after the exhaustive hike that had brought him up to here. However, something else continued to nag at his body with constant discomfort.
Hunger. The half-blood hadn't eaten in a long time - not since the Colosseum, technically - but only now did the repercussions start to take their toll. Another side effect of this place shutting down Omnilium, probably. And now, yet another damn problem to worry about.
Of course, Dante had always figured there was a special circle of hell for people who did nothing but whine.
So, like any good person not intent on going there, he fought hard against the urge to just lay and do nothing for a handful of time. A gloved hand grabbed the fringe of the broken wall beside him, and pulled the nephilim to his feet. There wasn't really much use to sticking around in this part of town, anyway, with there being nothing but scattered crumblings of stone and clay around. Even the remainder of the lot he sat under was just one of a handful in this particular sector.
With the sun beating on his head and the breeze whipping at his loose articles, the Son of Sparda stepped from his cover with some trepidation. His vision turned to the centerpiece of this ruined city: an ancient, nigh-monolithic structure, perhaps a palace or high temple in its own time. Now, maybe a citadel like that had something worth looting as far as supplies went- and hopefully something else interesting even if it didn't.
Not about to get his hopes up early, Dante kept his blank visage as he began to walk again, tromping over the many bits of fallen structures in what remained of the earth-beaten road.