04-06-2017, 01:58 AM
One of the Nebula-corrupted citizens shambled forth, brandishing a short sword with a finely-tapered point. In his spare time before being dragged into the influence of Nebula, the humanoid had taken up swordplay from a local gang leader, who had formerly served as some brutal warrior from another age. The idea behind it rooted in the thought that most thugs would be rightfully intimidated by someone who could actually use a blade like a killer.
Of course, intimidation didn't mean much when your opponent happened to be a soulless, hell-driven machine bent on consuming the world in dark data.
The gangster followed behind his allies, now setting upon another ram-shackle group of people wandering down the wrong alley. The scent of decay and evil hung in the air, breathed from the mouths of the turned, including the swordsman. These fools might think they stood a chance, that perhaps skill would suffuse whatever numbers they lacked.
What would these middling drones know about skill, though? In one hunter's experience, not a damn thing in comparison.
A bullet nailed the swordsman in the back of the head, making him stumble forward from the impact. He recovered his footing and whirled around, earning two more shots in the torso for his retaliation. One of his allies held him upright when he lurched back, as another turned too to face this new adversary.
A single individual made himself known, having just rounded the bend and stepping forward one slow clomp at a time. Two handguns of polar colorations shone in his hands both pointed forward. A long-tailed red coat billowed behind him to the tune of a shallow breeze wafting past the corner. Under a smoothed cut of long pearl hair, two blue eyes glared in the most faint shine towards the dark-infused aliens.
Any normal military teams might show signs of confusion or alert that an enemy managed to approach them from behind. Ultimately, to the Darklings, such concern was absent. This new figure could only be another target, not a danger.
Dante looked forward to proving them wrong.
The swordsman charged toward the devil hunter, blade raised over his own shoulder to prepare a diagonal strike- a rookie mistake that exposed his chest. Unflinching, Dante's trigger fingers poured into his pistols, rattling off a dozen or so shots into the corrupt citizen's ribs. The foe coughed, spattered out blood, and made a finishing lunge in spite of the damage. That momentary delay was just enough for Dante to side-step the incoming sword, shoving the barrel of Ivory into his temple as a riposte.
However, the other Darkling that had held up the first one came out swinging, and Dante was forced to relent before he could put a bullet into the swordsman's head. Channeling his defensive powers, the son of Sparda managed to narrowly block the incoming lead pipe with his right forearm, the impact deflecting the blow with a burst of light. The first Darkling attacked again in kind, keeping up the pressure and forcing Dante to maintain his Royalguard stance. Between the two minions, they managed to keep the devil hunter locked down sufficiently for a moment, his arms gradually tearing with each successive blow.
Not one to be outwitted, the red-coat seized a gap of opportunity and thrust himself out of the way, dashing to the side. He met the wall with his feet, inhuman speed carrying him three steps vertically before kicking off in a spectacular flourish. Headfirst to the ground, pistols crossed, Dante rained hell onto the hapless dark drones.
Unable to shield their skulls effectively from a dozen bullets, they reeled over in shock, absorbing every blow with their head and shoulders. As gravity finally seized claim on Dante's flying form, he twisted from his downright position and landed feet-first - right onto the Darklings. Their faces crashed into the dirty pavement, soaking the ground with blood and spit as they were brutally pinned under the devil hunter's boots.
One step at a time, Dante peeled himself from the broken skulls of the corrupt Coruscant citizens. A twinge of regret seeped up his spine as he considered that, how these devilish creatures were at one point actual people. An all too-familiar voice echoed out in response:
Why do you care!? It's not like you've never had to kill people before. How many demons have you killed that were once human, huh?
I don't keep count.
Exactly. You think too much! They're just targets to be slain, so get slaying!
So he stepped forward again, approaching the rest of the Darklings, embroiled in a conflict with some other people he couldn't quite make out yet. The humanizing of these infested people hadn't been what stopped Dante in the first place. No, it was the fact that the Hollow's arguments were becoming more compelling with every offer.
The idea that, above all, Dante was submitting to the Hollow's commands - that was most frightening. The Darklings were a pittance in comparison.
Of course, intimidation didn't mean much when your opponent happened to be a soulless, hell-driven machine bent on consuming the world in dark data.
The gangster followed behind his allies, now setting upon another ram-shackle group of people wandering down the wrong alley. The scent of decay and evil hung in the air, breathed from the mouths of the turned, including the swordsman. These fools might think they stood a chance, that perhaps skill would suffuse whatever numbers they lacked.
What would these middling drones know about skill, though? In one hunter's experience, not a damn thing in comparison.
A bullet nailed the swordsman in the back of the head, making him stumble forward from the impact. He recovered his footing and whirled around, earning two more shots in the torso for his retaliation. One of his allies held him upright when he lurched back, as another turned too to face this new adversary.
A single individual made himself known, having just rounded the bend and stepping forward one slow clomp at a time. Two handguns of polar colorations shone in his hands both pointed forward. A long-tailed red coat billowed behind him to the tune of a shallow breeze wafting past the corner. Under a smoothed cut of long pearl hair, two blue eyes glared in the most faint shine towards the dark-infused aliens.
Any normal military teams might show signs of confusion or alert that an enemy managed to approach them from behind. Ultimately, to the Darklings, such concern was absent. This new figure could only be another target, not a danger.
Dante looked forward to proving them wrong.
The swordsman charged toward the devil hunter, blade raised over his own shoulder to prepare a diagonal strike- a rookie mistake that exposed his chest. Unflinching, Dante's trigger fingers poured into his pistols, rattling off a dozen or so shots into the corrupt citizen's ribs. The foe coughed, spattered out blood, and made a finishing lunge in spite of the damage. That momentary delay was just enough for Dante to side-step the incoming sword, shoving the barrel of Ivory into his temple as a riposte.
However, the other Darkling that had held up the first one came out swinging, and Dante was forced to relent before he could put a bullet into the swordsman's head. Channeling his defensive powers, the son of Sparda managed to narrowly block the incoming lead pipe with his right forearm, the impact deflecting the blow with a burst of light. The first Darkling attacked again in kind, keeping up the pressure and forcing Dante to maintain his Royalguard stance. Between the two minions, they managed to keep the devil hunter locked down sufficiently for a moment, his arms gradually tearing with each successive blow.
Not one to be outwitted, the red-coat seized a gap of opportunity and thrust himself out of the way, dashing to the side. He met the wall with his feet, inhuman speed carrying him three steps vertically before kicking off in a spectacular flourish. Headfirst to the ground, pistols crossed, Dante rained hell onto the hapless dark drones.
Unable to shield their skulls effectively from a dozen bullets, they reeled over in shock, absorbing every blow with their head and shoulders. As gravity finally seized claim on Dante's flying form, he twisted from his downright position and landed feet-first - right onto the Darklings. Their faces crashed into the dirty pavement, soaking the ground with blood and spit as they were brutally pinned under the devil hunter's boots.
One step at a time, Dante peeled himself from the broken skulls of the corrupt Coruscant citizens. A twinge of regret seeped up his spine as he considered that, how these devilish creatures were at one point actual people. An all too-familiar voice echoed out in response:
Why do you care!? It's not like you've never had to kill people before. How many demons have you killed that were once human, huh?
I don't keep count.
Exactly. You think too much! They're just targets to be slain, so get slaying!
So he stepped forward again, approaching the rest of the Darklings, embroiled in a conflict with some other people he couldn't quite make out yet. The humanizing of these infested people hadn't been what stopped Dante in the first place. No, it was the fact that the Hollow's arguments were becoming more compelling with every offer.
The idea that, above all, Dante was submitting to the Hollow's commands - that was most frightening. The Darklings were a pittance in comparison.
Quote:866 words, 2 kills.