02-09-2016, 12:29 PM
Looking back on it, the victorious hunter almost felt a little sorry for whipping up the fellow champion; the kid had looked nearly straight plucked out of high school, and wielded only a slingshot as a weapon. That being said, judging a character by their looks never turned out well, and Dante had a feeling the young adult's character was less than desirable, so to speak. Or maybe he was wrong, and the nephilim just condemned a simple lone student to death's doorstep.
He swallowed the phlegm in his throat. Maybe it would be best not to dwell on that.
As Rebellion faded away in a prismatic glower, Dante grabbed one end of the decoy box with his newly-freed hand and tipped it up. The rocks spilled out of the cardboard container, the bottom-most few remaining having to be shaken free onto the pile. Guess this thing had managed to make itself useful after all, even if it was just as little more than a deadweight distraction. Dante made a more important discovery, however, in the prior brief summoning of his personal broadsword.
Up until a moment before, the Son of Sparda sourly confided in the idea that this world stood outside of Omni's effective realms. In that moment, however, when he endeavored to draw power from within himself rather than from thought alone, such limitations appeared to cease temporarily. That knowledge provided itself as a potential game-changer, and it gave Dante a new sense of security, in some fashion. While he had never quite ever been a major fan of his demonic half, one could not deny the sheer rebound of fate that the Devil Trigger was capable of granting in spades - if nothing else, the power served well as a lest resort.
Those reserves of inner power felt greater here, too, the hellish magic flowing through his veins in subtly greater volume. Could this be the single benefit of this world, a blessing of raw energy? With that at his disposal, the half-blood could use it much more than defense...
Ah, the Hollow creeping in his forefront again.
Stopping himself quickly, Dante forced his mind to go blank in an attempt to shut down the wicked spirit's offense. A clever and valiant strategy, in his head- but the Hollow was sharing that head, and only seemed to become agitated at the silence. The possessed hunter's body became more twitchy and attention defect, the primal instincts trying to wrest for control.
In a less-logical and seemingly random thought, Dante urged himself into the open box again, as if the empty package might provide sanctuary. Three minutes of huddling later, and it seemed like that exact case had been provided.
...it only made the box even more stupid, he swore.
---
Thirty-five minutes later, Dante finished off some tough, tasteless strips of dried meat raided from the storeroom of the ancient Coliseum. As it happened, he was in that exact same position in that exact same box.
Nope. Still stupid. Pretty sure.
He swallowed the phlegm in his throat. Maybe it would be best not to dwell on that.
As Rebellion faded away in a prismatic glower, Dante grabbed one end of the decoy box with his newly-freed hand and tipped it up. The rocks spilled out of the cardboard container, the bottom-most few remaining having to be shaken free onto the pile. Guess this thing had managed to make itself useful after all, even if it was just as little more than a deadweight distraction. Dante made a more important discovery, however, in the prior brief summoning of his personal broadsword.
Up until a moment before, the Son of Sparda sourly confided in the idea that this world stood outside of Omni's effective realms. In that moment, however, when he endeavored to draw power from within himself rather than from thought alone, such limitations appeared to cease temporarily. That knowledge provided itself as a potential game-changer, and it gave Dante a new sense of security, in some fashion. While he had never quite ever been a major fan of his demonic half, one could not deny the sheer rebound of fate that the Devil Trigger was capable of granting in spades - if nothing else, the power served well as a lest resort.
Those reserves of inner power felt greater here, too, the hellish magic flowing through his veins in subtly greater volume. Could this be the single benefit of this world, a blessing of raw energy? With that at his disposal, the half-blood could use it much more than defense...
Ah, the Hollow creeping in his forefront again.
Stopping himself quickly, Dante forced his mind to go blank in an attempt to shut down the wicked spirit's offense. A clever and valiant strategy, in his head- but the Hollow was sharing that head, and only seemed to become agitated at the silence. The possessed hunter's body became more twitchy and attention defect, the primal instincts trying to wrest for control.
In a less-logical and seemingly random thought, Dante urged himself into the open box again, as if the empty package might provide sanctuary. Three minutes of huddling later, and it seemed like that exact case had been provided.
...it only made the box even more stupid, he swore.
---
Thirty-five minutes later, Dante finished off some tough, tasteless strips of dried meat raided from the storeroom of the ancient Coliseum. As it happened, he was in that exact same position in that exact same box.
Nope. Still stupid. Pretty sure.