07-06-2017, 05:32 PM
This wouldn't be the first time I was eliminated from a competition by a sorcerer with a chainsaw.
"Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Redgrave," said the doctor looking over the redcoat. All things considered, the checkup may have been a bit redundant, considering the wholly accurate nature of Syntech's automated medical bays. It helped to be sure, however, that its patients didn't continue to suffer from any lasting physical damage - or mental scarring, if that could be helped. Not that anyone could sue the corporation for malpractice or anything, but having everyone that was still alive walk out of the competition in one piece turned out be a little better for reputation.
"What a load of crap," Dante mumbled, the frustration over his loss still lingering. There was nothing he could've done - rumors about the wizard using an "ultimate technique" seemed to suggest as such - but it didn't make the pain less apparent. "Can't believe I lost so easily."
"Yes, well, at least you weren't killed outright," the doctor tried vainly to reassure his patient. "Death for Primes is just getting harder to deal with these days- a whole week of disappearance, plus longer to shrug off any 'respawn sickness'... I'd say the fact you survived at all is somewhat miraculous, Mr. Redgrave."
Dante exhaled through his nose. Was he really going to lower himself to such a standard that 'not dying' could be considered an achievement?
The devil hunter stood from the gurney, stretching out his weary limbs. He patted down his hips momentarily, then glanced back over his shoulder to the doctor. "Where are my guns?"
"Stored in the barracks. Your room is number 13," spoke an assistant, without skipping a beat. The doctor was already being summoned for help with the other eliminated contestants, leaving the check-up room with a waiting nurse. With everything seeming to be in order, Tony Redgrave merely nodded and leaving the medical bay himself.
Room number 13. No wonder I lost, ha!
Silly superstitions. I just wasn't strong enough to handle that guy-
There it was again. Vergil's argument, how might controls everything. Dante strictly believed that he would never stoop to Vergil's level, never kill anyone - much less innocent lives - strictly for the sake of more power. The devil hunter would sooner kill for no reason at all than for such a contrived and selfish cause.
Be careful what you wish for.
Right, right. Just take it easy. Here it was, room 13- grab the weapons, put them away, and just walk back home. No challenge involved.
And so he did. The guns and sword were stashed in that carrying case, while the launcher and armor were absorbed back into the half-devil's form. Well, most of the armor- all that remained of the right gauntlet was probably wisps of dissolved Omniliium at this point. Dante had a list of things that needed fixing (besides himself), and those weapons would just be another bullet point. In top priority was the shop, currently in worse shape than it started out since that attack from Nebula's goons. Case in one hand, the automatic door swept open again to allow Dante to exit his room, before closing and then locking automatically behind him.
Fancy stuff.
Dante paced back through the halls of Station 17, trying to keep his mind devoid of any thinking. He passed the entrance to the food court and bar, tempting scents failing to coax him in. He passed the training room, the brief sight of a familiar red robot showing in his peripheral vision. When Dante was about to step past the medical bays and towards the teleporters, the image of something else familiar caught his eye.
Actually, it happened to be two familiar somethings, upon further inspection. The battlemage that Tony Redgrave had been pitted against appeared out cold on the otherwise immaculate floor- from the sounds of his breathing, the sleep was a willing one, not necessarily from the result of his copious new wounds. Meanwhile, off to the side, a blue taffy alien sat blankly, tapping the digital implement over the left side of her face.
Dante couldn't resist stepping gingerly over the wizard and his apparent caretaker to enter the room. The majin had been absent from Dante nearly the entire competition, only keeping in touch within the earliest stages before everything went wrong. It was worth seeing how she had managed since she had found that first item.
"Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Redgrave," said the doctor looking over the redcoat. All things considered, the checkup may have been a bit redundant, considering the wholly accurate nature of Syntech's automated medical bays. It helped to be sure, however, that its patients didn't continue to suffer from any lasting physical damage - or mental scarring, if that could be helped. Not that anyone could sue the corporation for malpractice or anything, but having everyone that was still alive walk out of the competition in one piece turned out be a little better for reputation.
"What a load of crap," Dante mumbled, the frustration over his loss still lingering. There was nothing he could've done - rumors about the wizard using an "ultimate technique" seemed to suggest as such - but it didn't make the pain less apparent. "Can't believe I lost so easily."
"Yes, well, at least you weren't killed outright," the doctor tried vainly to reassure his patient. "Death for Primes is just getting harder to deal with these days- a whole week of disappearance, plus longer to shrug off any 'respawn sickness'... I'd say the fact you survived at all is somewhat miraculous, Mr. Redgrave."
Dante exhaled through his nose. Was he really going to lower himself to such a standard that 'not dying' could be considered an achievement?
The devil hunter stood from the gurney, stretching out his weary limbs. He patted down his hips momentarily, then glanced back over his shoulder to the doctor. "Where are my guns?"
"Stored in the barracks. Your room is number 13," spoke an assistant, without skipping a beat. The doctor was already being summoned for help with the other eliminated contestants, leaving the check-up room with a waiting nurse. With everything seeming to be in order, Tony Redgrave merely nodded and leaving the medical bay himself.
Room number 13. No wonder I lost, ha!
Silly superstitions. I just wasn't strong enough to handle that guy-
There it was again. Vergil's argument, how might controls everything. Dante strictly believed that he would never stoop to Vergil's level, never kill anyone - much less innocent lives - strictly for the sake of more power. The devil hunter would sooner kill for no reason at all than for such a contrived and selfish cause.
Be careful what you wish for.
Right, right. Just take it easy. Here it was, room 13- grab the weapons, put them away, and just walk back home. No challenge involved.
And so he did. The guns and sword were stashed in that carrying case, while the launcher and armor were absorbed back into the half-devil's form. Well, most of the armor- all that remained of the right gauntlet was probably wisps of dissolved Omniliium at this point. Dante had a list of things that needed fixing (besides himself), and those weapons would just be another bullet point. In top priority was the shop, currently in worse shape than it started out since that attack from Nebula's goons. Case in one hand, the automatic door swept open again to allow Dante to exit his room, before closing and then locking automatically behind him.
Fancy stuff.
Dante paced back through the halls of Station 17, trying to keep his mind devoid of any thinking. He passed the entrance to the food court and bar, tempting scents failing to coax him in. He passed the training room, the brief sight of a familiar red robot showing in his peripheral vision. When Dante was about to step past the medical bays and towards the teleporters, the image of something else familiar caught his eye.
Actually, it happened to be two familiar somethings, upon further inspection. The battlemage that Tony Redgrave had been pitted against appeared out cold on the otherwise immaculate floor- from the sounds of his breathing, the sleep was a willing one, not necessarily from the result of his copious new wounds. Meanwhile, off to the side, a blue taffy alien sat blankly, tapping the digital implement over the left side of her face.
Dante couldn't resist stepping gingerly over the wizard and his apparent caretaker to enter the room. The majin had been absent from Dante nearly the entire competition, only keeping in touch within the earliest stages before everything went wrong. It was worth seeing how she had managed since she had found that first item.
Quote:Not leaving yet, want to get some interaction in with Graw and perhaps Gil if I can. Will be going to Coruscant when I do leave.