02-26-2017, 10:59 PM
From his spread-eagle hanging position on the banisters, Dante started down into the remains of his shop. Man, he'd been through wrecked offices and vehicle crashes before, but an entire van ramming through the front door was one for the books. That is to say, the hypothetical "Book of Things That Really Get on My Nerves". Ugh, seriously, what a pain.
The right-side cabin door met with the vigorous foot of a jet-black humanoid, practically booting the door off its hinges. The ex-commander slipped out of the shotgun seat and looked around the ruined building for signs of life, barely missing the one on the ceiling. The man pulled out a futuristic-looking handgun with one hand, and a small radio with the other, then stepped forward to examine one of the bodies more closely. Despite a stern glare and one or two pokes from his pistol, the decapitated body of the robotic Darkling offered nothing more than a leaking trail of tar-like substance.
Having found no satisfactory fruit, the husk of Obsidian gripped the radio tight and barked into it, "Get in here. We're gonna find this bastard and bring him in, you copy?!" The multiple plodding for several more sets of boots came from out the smashed doorway in response. Dante got the impression this fight would call for a fair bit more firepower...
One by one, a squad of six dark-touched infantry scrambled inside, fanning out around the crashed van to look for their target. The devil hunter didn't leave them waiting, and pounced on the last one of them to enter the building. His fall from the banisters landed on the alien shoulders, telescoping the Krogan's legs and sending his face into the hard wooden ground. Everyone else took notice, and then took aim, but Dante already sent himself on the move.
A dashing stab with the sword sent a grisly-faced Klingon reeling back, his torn vest offering little protection against the forceful blow. Dante dove after him, seeking cover behind the van from at least half of the Darkling squad, leaving him only at the mercy of one other standing soldier taking aim. The son of Sparda would be too quick for one man's blaster fire to do any more than graze him. The devil hunter swept from side to side, goading out several vain potshots from the infected soldier, and then retaliated with the business end of his shotgun and a ten-gauge shell to the torso.
Unlike the robots, the ballistic padding these Darklings wore when they had been converted seemed to take the damage much better, even if the force sent the victim careening into the stairs with a crash. That would be a tough problem to nip in the bud, Dante thought, as the rest of his problems either dragged themselves back up or came in from around the corner. The half-devil back-flipped onto the roof of the van, where three smoldering holes in the side became about a dozen thanks to the backup. Dante quickly flattened himself on the pale metal of the roof, earning a moment of reprise from the enemy fire.
As the squad below quickly set about trying to get a better vantage point (all to the tune of that loud-mouthed commander), the red-coat tucked away his sword and shotgun, to set about gathering up a more fitting weapon. Hopefully he could finish before one of the soldiers got a view on him. "Someone, get on the balcony!" Came the next order, but luckily enough, that last blast from Terminator resulted in a a dazed half-elf body being run through the lower half of the stairs. The son of Sparda managed to get all the time he needed, and then some more.
Only just a bit more, however. The soldier team's next effort would be to turn the van lopsided, as revealed by the shrill command of, "Blow out the tires, tilt it over!" As he heard those words, Dante rolled off the opposite side of the roof with his new tool around his arm. The sound of several laser blasts came not a moment later, followed by the two sharp blasts of the pressurized tires exploding.
As their efforts were revealed for naught, the half-devil reared up, took aim with the bio-weapon, and fired. The draining yet satisfying burst of a purple-green ray erupted from Nightmare-β, shooting diagonally to the ceiling only to rebound off the surface. A reverberating cry of pain and surprise indicated the shot had met its mark and would not bounce again.
The commander scowled over the shot down Synth, the blast having scorched his shadowy armor and shaded flesh into a single vibrant wound. As the other three damaged men were pulled back into action, the leader cried out, "Dammit, move in and get him already-!" The two untouched soldiers doubled back and pressed on, covered by the shaky-looking Krogan trooper behind them. No sooner had they turned the corner of the van than did they find themselves on the receiving end of another laser arrow, the shot scoring one of the two dead in the chest. Dante exhaled a strained breath as the yet unhurt Romulan let loose a barrage of his own weapon in Dante's direction.
Much as he hated to say it, this whole situation was starting to get a bit too crowded for the son of Sparda to deal with in a reasonable manner. The red-coat made a break for the farthest corner, ducking away from the pursuing red rays of pain. He pulled out Terminator again with his empty right hand, and turned back to unload a slug round into the offending Darkling.
The two of them exchanged damage, Dante being clipped in the head with a screaming bolt while his foe recoiled back in agony as the shell caught him in the gut. The Romulan's team-mates were quick to support him, two hard-eyed aliens providing covering fire. Though the wounded soldiers were alternatively gasping in pain and gurgling on their tainted blood, they managed the gumption to drag themselves away by the skin of their fingers.
Now bleeding from a molten wound on his right temple, Dante pressed on in similar spite. Three more shots grazed his extremities as he weaved through the doubled-up blaster fire, but he merely cycled another spread shell into Terminator, leaped into the air, and let loose on the tough alien Darklings.
A spray of buckshot assault them both, but the Krogan and Klingon together were astute enough to shield themselves before Dante could launch his attack. What they couldn't expect was for the son of Sparda to toss away both firearms and come down with an overhead sword slash. The tremendous cut very nearly took off Koh'rax's shooting arm as it landed, but it only marked the beginning of his next assault. The Krogan could only fall back to avoid the diagonal swipe of the sword, his fellow alien not so fortunate as his gnarled face was torn open by the pointed blade. That unfortunately left his prone form exposed to another overhead attack, the Krogan Darkling's desperate blocking hand mashed into his own skull by the demonic steel.
Stomping on the bloody face of the Klingon as one would crush a cockroach, Dante sent a white-hot glare towards the remaining batch of dark-infected soldiers.
That's five down, so far, and five more to go. Let 'em have it, big guy.
The right-side cabin door met with the vigorous foot of a jet-black humanoid, practically booting the door off its hinges. The ex-commander slipped out of the shotgun seat and looked around the ruined building for signs of life, barely missing the one on the ceiling. The man pulled out a futuristic-looking handgun with one hand, and a small radio with the other, then stepped forward to examine one of the bodies more closely. Despite a stern glare and one or two pokes from his pistol, the decapitated body of the robotic Darkling offered nothing more than a leaking trail of tar-like substance.
Having found no satisfactory fruit, the husk of Obsidian gripped the radio tight and barked into it, "Get in here. We're gonna find this bastard and bring him in, you copy?!" The multiple plodding for several more sets of boots came from out the smashed doorway in response. Dante got the impression this fight would call for a fair bit more firepower...
One by one, a squad of six dark-touched infantry scrambled inside, fanning out around the crashed van to look for their target. The devil hunter didn't leave them waiting, and pounced on the last one of them to enter the building. His fall from the banisters landed on the alien shoulders, telescoping the Krogan's legs and sending his face into the hard wooden ground. Everyone else took notice, and then took aim, but Dante already sent himself on the move.
A dashing stab with the sword sent a grisly-faced Klingon reeling back, his torn vest offering little protection against the forceful blow. Dante dove after him, seeking cover behind the van from at least half of the Darkling squad, leaving him only at the mercy of one other standing soldier taking aim. The son of Sparda would be too quick for one man's blaster fire to do any more than graze him. The devil hunter swept from side to side, goading out several vain potshots from the infected soldier, and then retaliated with the business end of his shotgun and a ten-gauge shell to the torso.
Unlike the robots, the ballistic padding these Darklings wore when they had been converted seemed to take the damage much better, even if the force sent the victim careening into the stairs with a crash. That would be a tough problem to nip in the bud, Dante thought, as the rest of his problems either dragged themselves back up or came in from around the corner. The half-devil back-flipped onto the roof of the van, where three smoldering holes in the side became about a dozen thanks to the backup. Dante quickly flattened himself on the pale metal of the roof, earning a moment of reprise from the enemy fire.
As the squad below quickly set about trying to get a better vantage point (all to the tune of that loud-mouthed commander), the red-coat tucked away his sword and shotgun, to set about gathering up a more fitting weapon. Hopefully he could finish before one of the soldiers got a view on him. "Someone, get on the balcony!" Came the next order, but luckily enough, that last blast from Terminator resulted in a a dazed half-elf body being run through the lower half of the stairs. The son of Sparda managed to get all the time he needed, and then some more.
Only just a bit more, however. The soldier team's next effort would be to turn the van lopsided, as revealed by the shrill command of, "Blow out the tires, tilt it over!" As he heard those words, Dante rolled off the opposite side of the roof with his new tool around his arm. The sound of several laser blasts came not a moment later, followed by the two sharp blasts of the pressurized tires exploding.
As their efforts were revealed for naught, the half-devil reared up, took aim with the bio-weapon, and fired. The draining yet satisfying burst of a purple-green ray erupted from Nightmare-β, shooting diagonally to the ceiling only to rebound off the surface. A reverberating cry of pain and surprise indicated the shot had met its mark and would not bounce again.
The commander scowled over the shot down Synth, the blast having scorched his shadowy armor and shaded flesh into a single vibrant wound. As the other three damaged men were pulled back into action, the leader cried out, "Dammit, move in and get him already-!" The two untouched soldiers doubled back and pressed on, covered by the shaky-looking Krogan trooper behind them. No sooner had they turned the corner of the van than did they find themselves on the receiving end of another laser arrow, the shot scoring one of the two dead in the chest. Dante exhaled a strained breath as the yet unhurt Romulan let loose a barrage of his own weapon in Dante's direction.
Much as he hated to say it, this whole situation was starting to get a bit too crowded for the son of Sparda to deal with in a reasonable manner. The red-coat made a break for the farthest corner, ducking away from the pursuing red rays of pain. He pulled out Terminator again with his empty right hand, and turned back to unload a slug round into the offending Darkling.
The two of them exchanged damage, Dante being clipped in the head with a screaming bolt while his foe recoiled back in agony as the shell caught him in the gut. The Romulan's team-mates were quick to support him, two hard-eyed aliens providing covering fire. Though the wounded soldiers were alternatively gasping in pain and gurgling on their tainted blood, they managed the gumption to drag themselves away by the skin of their fingers.
Now bleeding from a molten wound on his right temple, Dante pressed on in similar spite. Three more shots grazed his extremities as he weaved through the doubled-up blaster fire, but he merely cycled another spread shell into Terminator, leaped into the air, and let loose on the tough alien Darklings.
A spray of buckshot assault them both, but the Krogan and Klingon together were astute enough to shield themselves before Dante could launch his attack. What they couldn't expect was for the son of Sparda to toss away both firearms and come down with an overhead sword slash. The tremendous cut very nearly took off Koh'rax's shooting arm as it landed, but it only marked the beginning of his next assault. The Krogan could only fall back to avoid the diagonal swipe of the sword, his fellow alien not so fortunate as his gnarled face was torn open by the pointed blade. That unfortunately left his prone form exposed to another overhead attack, the Krogan Darkling's desperate blocking hand mashed into his own skull by the demonic steel.
Stomping on the bloody face of the Klingon as one would crush a cockroach, Dante sent a white-hot glare towards the remaining batch of dark-infected soldiers.
That's five down, so far, and five more to go. Let 'em have it, big guy.