06-20-2017, 03:03 PM
For a long time, Tony Redgrave merely sat. The empty, reinforced crate of the care package proved a passable stool for the silver-haired warrior, as he stared into the shining horizon and thought. The previous day long since wasted away entirely, what seemed like mere minutes of fighting dilated into many hours. A lingering fear suggested Dante would waste much more of this precious time just sitting here, while other people were out there collecting items and artifacts. Surely, all of those were far more valuable than whatever he had lost in this battle.
Dante did not need any items right now. Not that he didn't need them at all, but this just wasn't the time for it. At this moment, what the son of Sparda needed more than ever was to think.
As a result of that dark realization, the demonic devil hunter had entered a cold, grim sort of mental funk. His eventual transition into the Omniverse had fully reversed that. But history is want to repeat itself, and so Zangetsu, the hollowed malevolent sword spirit, set the stage again.
Ever since their interaction, Dante had been filled with many things. Dread, regret, frustration- all brands of negative emotions swirling within, comprising itself into a blackened manifestation of Dante himself. The Hollow, he had taken to calling it, so named for its empty spirit and worthless desires. Back then, it would taunt and reprimand the half-devil any chance it could, spurring their shared form to battle with the drive of a wild animal. And Dante resisted, fearful of what happened if he submitted, angry over the greed that had brought him down to this level.
Now, the Hollow spoke little, if all. Mere whispers, but more dramatic tugs at his psyche. At this point, the dark mind spoke nothing at all. Dante figured there was one good reason for it: they were truly becoming one. Just as it was born from the son of Sparda's own primal and loathing, the Hollow now must be maturing. It had been gnawing away at the redcoat's humanity, and now was ready to replace the hole in his psyche with itself.
All to create the ultimate, unbridled killing machine that Zangetsu had always wanted.
Dante knew the circumstances and situation were dramatically different, but he knew this feeling well. For the second time ever, the son of Sparda faced an unstoppable inevitability, comparable to the infinite rest of death itself. Though he was afraid, though he very much wished to stop it, there was nothing that could be done. Unlike before, not even death would put an end to Dante and his misery.
The legendary son of Sparda stared deeply into the abyss, and it stared back into him in turn.[/spoiler]
Fuck it, he decided.
To hell with that poetic nonsense, and damn every single thing in this world that had brought him to this point. The redcoat didn't want to die, but he would be damned if his story ended with a pathetic whimper. The world deserved to see what Dante, arm of Rebellion and slayer of demons, was truly capable of pulling off.
It didn't matter if he blew into a thousand gory pieces or became an irredeemable icon of insanity. Whatever fate had in store, Tony Redgrave would face it like he faced any job: with a resounding bang and a devil-may-care smile.
He sat up, kicking away the crate with his heel and startling the Batman in the process. The resurgent half-devil dipped into his pockets with his good hand, pulling out his stashed phone. If Dante wanted to make this game a little more interesting, he would need to phone a friend. "Jak," Tony Redgrave began, contacting him over the communicator.
"Oh cripes, Dante, are you alright?!" Came the reply, sounding as surprised as it did commanding. Tony would let him off the hook for neglecting the alias. It didn't matter, after all.
"Could be better, could be worse," the devil hunter admitted, flexing his numbed arm experimentally. "Good news is, I can't feel the pain. Bad news is, I can't feel anything else at all."
A sigh came from over the receiver, only missing the heavy breath for it to be crisp and in-the-moment. Guess Mar didn't appreciate the painful humor. "Where are you?"
"Heading north," Dante replied swiftly, looking over his shoulder. "We're going to make a comeback, and you're going to help."
"Yes, of course. I'll head over there as fast as I can."
The line cut out voluntarily, and the redcoat pocketed the Dataverse Device. The dark cowl approached, eyes locked, and Dante turned to face him fully. The hooded figure appeared much more hardy and serious than Dante first assumed, but perhaps a straight man could be helpful.
"You're thinking we should team up," the Batman half-asked, half-declared to his short-time ally. They hadn't connected much during the first, and nothing suggested they would mesh any better as a proper time. But there was no denying strength in numbers, as their opponents had proved.
The Son of Sparda merely gave his trademark smirk, a crimson gleam flashing in his eyes. "Why? You got something in mind?"
Batman held up his own Syntech tablet, a zoomed portion of the island on-screen with two flashing indicators. "We would have to move quickly, so as not to meet any resistance. If we're quick enough, we could get both of these items."
"Well, then," Dante concluded, cracking his neck in anticipation. "What're we waiting for? Let's roll."
Dante did not need any items right now. Not that he didn't need them at all, but this just wasn't the time for it. At this moment, what the son of Sparda needed more than ever was to think.
Quote:Backstory garbage here, feel free to skip.[spoiler]A long time ago, well before the Omniverse, the half-blood devil hunter named Dante found himself forced to come to grips with a terrible realization. His duality in blood bestowed him a unique gift, if one could call it that: as the son of Sparda grew, so too did his devil power evolve, gradually amassing into stronger forms. However, this power only became more profound, eventually even more powerful than that of Sparda himself. Dante had theorized that, at some point, his devil half would grow so powerful it would overshadow his humanity entirely, and render him a pure demon- lusting for battle and blood forever more.
As a result of that dark realization, the demonic devil hunter had entered a cold, grim sort of mental funk. His eventual transition into the Omniverse had fully reversed that. But history is want to repeat itself, and so Zangetsu, the hollowed malevolent sword spirit, set the stage again.
Ever since their interaction, Dante had been filled with many things. Dread, regret, frustration- all brands of negative emotions swirling within, comprising itself into a blackened manifestation of Dante himself. The Hollow, he had taken to calling it, so named for its empty spirit and worthless desires. Back then, it would taunt and reprimand the half-devil any chance it could, spurring their shared form to battle with the drive of a wild animal. And Dante resisted, fearful of what happened if he submitted, angry over the greed that had brought him down to this level.
Now, the Hollow spoke little, if all. Mere whispers, but more dramatic tugs at his psyche. At this point, the dark mind spoke nothing at all. Dante figured there was one good reason for it: they were truly becoming one. Just as it was born from the son of Sparda's own primal and loathing, the Hollow now must be maturing. It had been gnawing away at the redcoat's humanity, and now was ready to replace the hole in his psyche with itself.
All to create the ultimate, unbridled killing machine that Zangetsu had always wanted.
Dante knew the circumstances and situation were dramatically different, but he knew this feeling well. For the second time ever, the son of Sparda faced an unstoppable inevitability, comparable to the infinite rest of death itself. Though he was afraid, though he very much wished to stop it, there was nothing that could be done. Unlike before, not even death would put an end to Dante and his misery.
The legendary son of Sparda stared deeply into the abyss, and it stared back into him in turn.[/spoiler]
Fuck it, he decided.
To hell with that poetic nonsense, and damn every single thing in this world that had brought him to this point. The redcoat didn't want to die, but he would be damned if his story ended with a pathetic whimper. The world deserved to see what Dante, arm of Rebellion and slayer of demons, was truly capable of pulling off.
It didn't matter if he blew into a thousand gory pieces or became an irredeemable icon of insanity. Whatever fate had in store, Tony Redgrave would face it like he faced any job: with a resounding bang and a devil-may-care smile.
He sat up, kicking away the crate with his heel and startling the Batman in the process. The resurgent half-devil dipped into his pockets with his good hand, pulling out his stashed phone. If Dante wanted to make this game a little more interesting, he would need to phone a friend. "Jak," Tony Redgrave began, contacting him over the communicator.
"Oh cripes, Dante, are you alright?!" Came the reply, sounding as surprised as it did commanding. Tony would let him off the hook for neglecting the alias. It didn't matter, after all.
"Could be better, could be worse," the devil hunter admitted, flexing his numbed arm experimentally. "Good news is, I can't feel the pain. Bad news is, I can't feel anything else at all."
A sigh came from over the receiver, only missing the heavy breath for it to be crisp and in-the-moment. Guess Mar didn't appreciate the painful humor. "Where are you?"
"Heading north," Dante replied swiftly, looking over his shoulder. "We're going to make a comeback, and you're going to help."
"Yes, of course. I'll head over there as fast as I can."
The line cut out voluntarily, and the redcoat pocketed the Dataverse Device. The dark cowl approached, eyes locked, and Dante turned to face him fully. The hooded figure appeared much more hardy and serious than Dante first assumed, but perhaps a straight man could be helpful.
"You're thinking we should team up," the Batman half-asked, half-declared to his short-time ally. They hadn't connected much during the first, and nothing suggested they would mesh any better as a proper time. But there was no denying strength in numbers, as their opponents had proved.
The Son of Sparda merely gave his trademark smirk, a crimson gleam flashing in his eyes. "Why? You got something in mind?"
Batman held up his own Syntech tablet, a zoomed portion of the island on-screen with two flashing indicators. "We would have to move quickly, so as not to meet any resistance. If we're quick enough, we could get both of these items."
"Well, then," Dante concluded, cracking his neck in anticipation. "What're we waiting for? Let's roll."
Quote:Teaming with Batman, moving from E2 to E1. No intent to provoke a challenge.