06-11-2017, 04:34 PM
Pulling up to a finely-cleaned curb on Tier 1, the cab came to a sharp hart, the passengers lurching in their seats. The driver was handed a quick payment of rainbow material, and the back door opened.
Out stepped Dante, bootfalls confidently hitting the pavement and pulling him from his seat. The devil hunter rolled his shoulders and straightened out his fine crimson coat, part of the new outfit he had formed from the tatters of his scorched clothes. Omnilium really did wonders when it came to that sort of stuff. He leaned over and reached back into the cab, pulling out a large case that not-too-subtly concealed his weapons. "Thanks again," Dante remarked to the taxi driver, who merely gave a parting wave in response.
Slamming the door shut and letting the hover-car peel away, the son of Sparda looked to his new quarry. A small crowd was gathered around a re-purposed storefront near the Nexus gate plaza. Several televisions in the window displayed broadcasts of various Syntech products and events, most notably advertisements for their premiere event of the year:
Dante's Abyss.
The devil hunter quietly shouldered his way through the crowd, his imposing appearance doing well to make way through the people. Beyond the throng sat an unfolded stand advertising Sign-Ups for the annual event. It would be remiss of Dante to not investigate whatever sort of battle contest this was, considering it almost literally had his name on it.
The receptionist manning the stand could only be right to assume that the red-coated figure with the large case was here to enter Dante's Abyss. He wordlessly pushed a set of forms forward for the man to sign- it wasn't as if they read the fine print anyways. They were all Primes anyway, the lucky bastards that didn't have to give a shit about whether they died or not. The guy honestly couldn't understand why anyone would find these sorts of events to be at all interesting or impacting if nobody even stayed dead. It really seemed like a whole different magnitude of stupidity in his mind- but really, that just set the tone of Coruscant and the Omniverse as a whole.
"Name?"
"Tony Redgrave."
The guy blinked, expression subtly changing for the first time in several hours. He wasn't sure if he should appreciate the relatively normal name, or spite it for how edgy it sounded. "How long have you been around?"
That was a good question, actually. Not one to be dwelt upon right now, though. "Never paid attention."
The receptionist sighed. "Where do you live?"
"Tier 4."
"Your current job?"
"Freelance mercenary."
"What was your life back in your home world?"
Tony scoffed, a sound of total disgust. "Yeah, you'd like to know that, wouldn't you?"
The man at the table rolled his eyes. He didn't make the questions, he just asked them. Not his damn fault. If this newcomer wanted to lave his past shrouded in some dumbass mystery, who was he to care? "And why are you joining?"
"Take a wild guess."
The man sighed again, practically oozing with sarcasm. "You wanna kill people."
At this, Tony actually looked up with an offended expression. "Wha- no? I'm gonna put on a god-damn show for this world to see." The receptionist narrowed his glare, not fond of smartasses. Of course you would have to be a colossal jerk to even consider signing up for this garbage.
He pressed a few buttons lazily on a machine while the entrant finished up his signatures. When he finished and dropped the pen, the Syntech intern motioned toward the interior of the building. "Teleporter's inside. We hope you have a memorable experience," he forced out, Mr. Redgrave already walking away.
God, this guy needed a new job.
Out stepped Dante, bootfalls confidently hitting the pavement and pulling him from his seat. The devil hunter rolled his shoulders and straightened out his fine crimson coat, part of the new outfit he had formed from the tatters of his scorched clothes. Omnilium really did wonders when it came to that sort of stuff. He leaned over and reached back into the cab, pulling out a large case that not-too-subtly concealed his weapons. "Thanks again," Dante remarked to the taxi driver, who merely gave a parting wave in response.
Slamming the door shut and letting the hover-car peel away, the son of Sparda looked to his new quarry. A small crowd was gathered around a re-purposed storefront near the Nexus gate plaza. Several televisions in the window displayed broadcasts of various Syntech products and events, most notably advertisements for their premiere event of the year:
Dante's Abyss.
The devil hunter quietly shouldered his way through the crowd, his imposing appearance doing well to make way through the people. Beyond the throng sat an unfolded stand advertising Sign-Ups for the annual event. It would be remiss of Dante to not investigate whatever sort of battle contest this was, considering it almost literally had his name on it.
The receptionist manning the stand could only be right to assume that the red-coated figure with the large case was here to enter Dante's Abyss. He wordlessly pushed a set of forms forward for the man to sign- it wasn't as if they read the fine print anyways. They were all Primes anyway, the lucky bastards that didn't have to give a shit about whether they died or not. The guy honestly couldn't understand why anyone would find these sorts of events to be at all interesting or impacting if nobody even stayed dead. It really seemed like a whole different magnitude of stupidity in his mind- but really, that just set the tone of Coruscant and the Omniverse as a whole.
"Name?"
"Tony Redgrave."
The guy blinked, expression subtly changing for the first time in several hours. He wasn't sure if he should appreciate the relatively normal name, or spite it for how edgy it sounded. "How long have you been around?"
That was a good question, actually. Not one to be dwelt upon right now, though. "Never paid attention."
The receptionist sighed. "Where do you live?"
"Tier 4."
"Your current job?"
"Freelance mercenary."
"What was your life back in your home world?"
Tony scoffed, a sound of total disgust. "Yeah, you'd like to know that, wouldn't you?"
The man at the table rolled his eyes. He didn't make the questions, he just asked them. Not his damn fault. If this newcomer wanted to lave his past shrouded in some dumbass mystery, who was he to care? "And why are you joining?"
"Take a wild guess."
The man sighed again, practically oozing with sarcasm. "You wanna kill people."
At this, Tony actually looked up with an offended expression. "Wha- no? I'm gonna put on a god-damn show for this world to see." The receptionist narrowed his glare, not fond of smartasses. Of course you would have to be a colossal jerk to even consider signing up for this garbage.
He pressed a few buttons lazily on a machine while the entrant finished up his signatures. When he finished and dropped the pen, the Syntech intern motioned toward the interior of the building. "Teleporter's inside. We hope you have a memorable experience," he forced out, Mr. Redgrave already walking away.
God, this guy needed a new job.