Post by Dreamer of Words on Dec 27, 2010 22:34:45 GMT -5
Never Say Never! a DMC Fanfiction-through-rp by Albert Wesker ((AW)) and Dreamer of Words ((DoW)) both. Wesker is using the NEW!Dante Sparda, kudos to him for making the badass concept even more badass... I'm using a bit more amicable, weirdly smooth and awesome Alastor sword in a Human form due to a few twists of fate. The way I play Al, it's mine alone.
Warnings: Uh... Language, violence by swords and bullets, possible alcoholism, suggestive themes, demons, half-demons, transforming weapons, sentinent weapon in human form, indecently dressed people/demons/etc., pizza and a slight chance of strawberry sundaes. Did I mention the wordplays? Well, some are rather tasteless.
DISCLAIMER: The pair of us owning Devil May Cry? Ha...hahaha...! Oh man, save us all from the even worse perversities. Now, let's go.
DoW: There was quite the clamor in the streets so far today, and notably, it was the lack of shoppers on this atypical Black Friday. Nope. It was more or less a hooping and hollering of a lone male fighting things less than human, but not quite more than a hassle. Peons, could be called close. It was weird enough for him - just because he was a part of the paranomal guys calling the peons' shots - earlier this week. This was a weather he LOVED being at. Lightning struck a few of them down, and he had made a beeline for the nearest building with a weapon strapped to his back; not caring to look at the sign for now; readjusting his red shades. Catching his breath was a priority, as well as walking off the sting of the rain...? Fuck, I know the smell of this place! Old pizza boxes, booze, soap...demon blood and gunpowder. Shit. Of all the times I have to be not packing a fight at full strength! Alastor looked around and then put a quarter in the Jukebox. Not playing, he gave it a light kick. Nothing...? Plugging it in; he just gave it a harder kick, and it started playing. Not bothering to turn around to give the seemingly puzzled person any notice, he spoke. "Hey, lazy. I had to go nuts a little on the freak parade out there. I'd say two minutes before them uglies get back on my ass. Have fun!"
AW: Dante was bored. Well, that may have been too loose a term. It had been dead silent today, nothing had come in for a hunt. It was kind of a shame, since it was a nice sport and it brought in money to boot. That's right, he had no qualms about doing this shit purely for fun. "Fuck. And fuck." He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, grunting slightly as he pushed his fingers through his hair, turning from time to time so he could get a better view of the different angles. The white highlights were showing up a little better, now; they were partly visible in the front and at the top of his head, but were quite notable even in the back. Of course, white was hard to disguise against a color like black to begin with. He grunted and turned on the faucet to splash cool water on his skin, the stormy weather having given the interior of the place a shitty feeling. He mumbled as he turned it back off, glaring toward the bathroom door. The fuck? He yanked it open and stalked out into the main room, as it could be called, red eyes narrowed irritably. "Who the fuck are you calling lazy?" It may not have been the most polite or subtle of questions, but then, Dante was neither of those things to begin with.
DoW: "I'm calling you lazy; Blue - lazier, than I get - and this time I'm meaning it. I'd expect you to comb the alleyways, man. But yeah. I'm just staying out of as I'd rather not get in your path again. Think of it this way - we could get out and have a party outside with guarding each other's backs for once... Or we could collect more bills on the repairman's side. Sheesh..." The male with the red shades shrugged, turning to Dante without so much fear. Rather, a trust...of sorts... Awkward, much? "So, no time to complain! Damned little guys are there in droves...and I want to see how many we can take out. I have a head start, you should know..." He grinned. If the teen was a demon, he would've been one of those five-minute-ramblers... But here that...HUMAN was, acting all like he knew Dante! Enough...to give him a nickname and make jabs...and certainly, a guy with about a pair to mention the financial...ah; LACK Dante had. Too bad his eyes were hidden, the cocky 'short' bastard carrying a sword more suited to Dante's tastes; as well as an oversized ninja Sai. "I'll refresh your memory later, just you gonna get ready for the strange things?" A bit of a sad part because of the feeble make of the building was a bit less than demon-fightproof-strength.
AW: "You know, I was trying to---...oh, fuck it." What was the point? He knew what he wanted right now, but he'd sound like a perverted jerk if he said it. ...Wait, when the hell did he start caring if he sounded like that? Fuck this shit. "Who the hell ARE you?" Goddamn, really? Barging in here like that. Why did strange people always find him? Was it because he was strange, too? Whatever. Pushing that crap out of his head, as well as his thoughts on what a nice evening this would have been, he stalked across the office-like area to get his coat. He yanked it on, the black and red leather in anything but good shape. "At least it'll give me something to do. For ten goddamn minutes." The shit around here was rarely that much of a challenge, so he was really being generous here. He made sure he had his guns, and then grabbed his sword. This one was an interesting one. It didn't just stay a sword, by any means. This one had the ability to morph into different weapons, depending on what he felt like using, and it was a hell of a lot of fun. Take that, bastards.
Dow: "You were trying to get off...in the shower. That's why the shitload of soap after." Now he said it, he smiled...but then again he did his best that his pride suck it up a bit as he saw Dante's current...ah; choice of weapon - Ebony and Ivory nonwithstanding. "Shift-Reaper... Been a while. I just have to say; you hiding with him under the radar, too? Eh, figures..." The kid bolted out the door, hacking and slashing with the Sai in a quick manner - almost like a tornado. But those Peons froze like statues as Dante stepped out of the door in less than a good mood... ESPECIALLY so, with the Shift-Reaper. He hadn't seen it in action at least...not because he was curious - but because he was almost glaring daggers at it. But now - he had no choice but to watch, that much would be a taxing experience, since he'd need to be on top of his evasion game. The action seemingly resumed, the male as about as dangerous as the sword on his back. And he was just about ready to say fuck it, himself and get to his 'Prison' off his back - but that was only in dire straights. Geez...! I'm gonna end up a hurtin' guy later~. The little demons were about as dangerous as insect larvae...but they just about tied. Then the honcho came, and was gonna start a speech; and such, but this was one of those straws that broke the back of Alastor's proverbial camel. Now, there was a small silence, as the so-called 'friend' that turned him over to Miss Fate...for more power. "...'Ey, hamburger-face!" The demon he'd called to had a face with many bullish features - including horns. "Ever heard of not being such a milker of bad luck?" Oh, the guy did have puns in spades. "Maybe it's me, but you should be MOOving back to Hell - oh! Your village called and they wanted to steak you out!" With that said, the huge demon charged - and Alastor slid under the demon as if he was doing a guitar solo by air and watched him smack into the wall; getting stuck. It took a bit to not laugh while he was still too close to the fugly.
AW: “That’s no--…fuck.” And there was the word again, of course. For those not privy to it, that was his favorite word; or one of. But that really didn’t matter right now. What did matter was that he was getting more irritable by the moment. It was apparent on his features and it was very much visible in his eyes. “I wasn’t in the shower, so no.” He raised his hand and flipped him the bird, this amongst one of his favorite gestures, though the order of things like that changed depending on situation. He grunted and stomped out the door to see what the shit was all about. Seriously, if these bastards fucked up his place of business, then he was going to be truly pissed. He was currently living there, after all, since it was easier than having to make back and forth trips. Why not just mix business and home life in this case? They were so closely intertwined that he’d long since given up trying to deny the damn fact. “This is it?” A dark brow raised, almost curious. Just this? Well, the fact was still there. This was going to be a little bit of fun and it did get him out, which was probably the best fact of all. “Well, whatever.” He hefted his sword in one hand, which within a few seconds changed form into a scythe, by extension of his will. He charged forward to get to work on some of the small fry, since that’s all they could really be called. But it was very quickly proven that he didn’t care what they were, evidently able to have fun no matter the size and quantity. “If that thing runs your ass over, I have every right to laugh at you; whoever the hell you are.” That was still getting to him, the familiarity with which he was regarded and treated. But it was still going to have to wait. Wiping these little pricks out with something as awesome as a scythe was oddly, well…satisfying, especially to his nerves.
DoW: As the Bullish dude bellowed, there was a shake beneath him - to get out of the way or suffer pain, the answer was obvious. Hand-springing to the side and then moving around the baddies that now surrounded him would be harder than most would think; but Alastor managed. He had to turn mid-spring to roll out of the path to avoid very much becoming a splat in the ground. Whomever this guy was...he had reflexes equal to his 'Boss'. The Boss-man whom was Dante Sparda, and the youth seemed to be having way too much fun. Sending purple waves from that dinky-sized Sai; he ducked an incoming demon to watch it smack into that charging bull's debris-covered head. Oh, he was a bit cautious - that had broken up the crap around the horns. "Damnit!" He'd need to sacrifice speed for power, and it wouldn't work that much against the big guy, unless it took some more or less innate problem solving! In this case, the guy with smooth black hair and shades...needed to use some of the small fry to his leisure, was that a plan - turning a lightning blade...into a demon-powered demon-bludgeon?! Yup. That was what the short-one came up with. And he could block and clock soon thereafter! Best use for his prison, ever! "Prisoner's gonna break out the cage!" He snarked, going to be sheathing the little weapon (by comparison), and grabbing the Lightning-based sword by the hilt with no ill-effects. "Blue, I think I want the small-fry for a second!" He mused carefully; ducking under the Shift-Reaper's latest decapitation. Alastor's weapon was held with both his hands, but weirdly enough - it was as well-carried as Ebony and Ivory...and easily thrusted as the other swung the scythe form of Shift-Reaper. Now, the reason why he really needed to get the demons was to try and break the Bovine-fugly's ass-long horns...with more splatters of demons to add insult to injury. "The horns this guy have to be dealt with first; damnit!" He had fought this guy before under the other unfavorable factors; and possibly got his ass handed to him; to barely survive. Well, humans had it rough! They couldn't make use of innate spiritual energy to Air-Hike without problems of splatting or becoming seriously ill.
Warnings: Uh... Language, violence by swords and bullets, possible alcoholism, suggestive themes, demons, half-demons, transforming weapons, sentinent weapon in human form, indecently dressed people/demons/etc., pizza and a slight chance of strawberry sundaes. Did I mention the wordplays? Well, some are rather tasteless.
DISCLAIMER: The pair of us owning Devil May Cry? Ha...hahaha...! Oh man, save us all from the even worse perversities. Now, let's go.
DoW: There was quite the clamor in the streets so far today, and notably, it was the lack of shoppers on this atypical Black Friday. Nope. It was more or less a hooping and hollering of a lone male fighting things less than human, but not quite more than a hassle. Peons, could be called close. It was weird enough for him - just because he was a part of the paranomal guys calling the peons' shots - earlier this week. This was a weather he LOVED being at. Lightning struck a few of them down, and he had made a beeline for the nearest building with a weapon strapped to his back; not caring to look at the sign for now; readjusting his red shades. Catching his breath was a priority, as well as walking off the sting of the rain...? Fuck, I know the smell of this place! Old pizza boxes, booze, soap...demon blood and gunpowder. Shit. Of all the times I have to be not packing a fight at full strength! Alastor looked around and then put a quarter in the Jukebox. Not playing, he gave it a light kick. Nothing...? Plugging it in; he just gave it a harder kick, and it started playing. Not bothering to turn around to give the seemingly puzzled person any notice, he spoke. "Hey, lazy. I had to go nuts a little on the freak parade out there. I'd say two minutes before them uglies get back on my ass. Have fun!"
AW: Dante was bored. Well, that may have been too loose a term. It had been dead silent today, nothing had come in for a hunt. It was kind of a shame, since it was a nice sport and it brought in money to boot. That's right, he had no qualms about doing this shit purely for fun. "Fuck. And fuck." He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, grunting slightly as he pushed his fingers through his hair, turning from time to time so he could get a better view of the different angles. The white highlights were showing up a little better, now; they were partly visible in the front and at the top of his head, but were quite notable even in the back. Of course, white was hard to disguise against a color like black to begin with. He grunted and turned on the faucet to splash cool water on his skin, the stormy weather having given the interior of the place a shitty feeling. He mumbled as he turned it back off, glaring toward the bathroom door. The fuck? He yanked it open and stalked out into the main room, as it could be called, red eyes narrowed irritably. "Who the fuck are you calling lazy?" It may not have been the most polite or subtle of questions, but then, Dante was neither of those things to begin with.
DoW: "I'm calling you lazy; Blue - lazier, than I get - and this time I'm meaning it. I'd expect you to comb the alleyways, man. But yeah. I'm just staying out of as I'd rather not get in your path again. Think of it this way - we could get out and have a party outside with guarding each other's backs for once... Or we could collect more bills on the repairman's side. Sheesh..." The male with the red shades shrugged, turning to Dante without so much fear. Rather, a trust...of sorts... Awkward, much? "So, no time to complain! Damned little guys are there in droves...and I want to see how many we can take out. I have a head start, you should know..." He grinned. If the teen was a demon, he would've been one of those five-minute-ramblers... But here that...HUMAN was, acting all like he knew Dante! Enough...to give him a nickname and make jabs...and certainly, a guy with about a pair to mention the financial...ah; LACK Dante had. Too bad his eyes were hidden, the cocky 'short' bastard carrying a sword more suited to Dante's tastes; as well as an oversized ninja Sai. "I'll refresh your memory later, just you gonna get ready for the strange things?" A bit of a sad part because of the feeble make of the building was a bit less than demon-fightproof-strength.
AW: "You know, I was trying to---...oh, fuck it." What was the point? He knew what he wanted right now, but he'd sound like a perverted jerk if he said it. ...Wait, when the hell did he start caring if he sounded like that? Fuck this shit. "Who the hell ARE you?" Goddamn, really? Barging in here like that. Why did strange people always find him? Was it because he was strange, too? Whatever. Pushing that crap out of his head, as well as his thoughts on what a nice evening this would have been, he stalked across the office-like area to get his coat. He yanked it on, the black and red leather in anything but good shape. "At least it'll give me something to do. For ten goddamn minutes." The shit around here was rarely that much of a challenge, so he was really being generous here. He made sure he had his guns, and then grabbed his sword. This one was an interesting one. It didn't just stay a sword, by any means. This one had the ability to morph into different weapons, depending on what he felt like using, and it was a hell of a lot of fun. Take that, bastards.
Dow: "You were trying to get off...in the shower. That's why the shitload of soap after." Now he said it, he smiled...but then again he did his best that his pride suck it up a bit as he saw Dante's current...ah; choice of weapon - Ebony and Ivory nonwithstanding. "Shift-Reaper... Been a while. I just have to say; you hiding with him under the radar, too? Eh, figures..." The kid bolted out the door, hacking and slashing with the Sai in a quick manner - almost like a tornado. But those Peons froze like statues as Dante stepped out of the door in less than a good mood... ESPECIALLY so, with the Shift-Reaper. He hadn't seen it in action at least...not because he was curious - but because he was almost glaring daggers at it. But now - he had no choice but to watch, that much would be a taxing experience, since he'd need to be on top of his evasion game. The action seemingly resumed, the male as about as dangerous as the sword on his back. And he was just about ready to say fuck it, himself and get to his 'Prison' off his back - but that was only in dire straights. Geez...! I'm gonna end up a hurtin' guy later~. The little demons were about as dangerous as insect larvae...but they just about tied. Then the honcho came, and was gonna start a speech; and such, but this was one of those straws that broke the back of Alastor's proverbial camel. Now, there was a small silence, as the so-called 'friend' that turned him over to Miss Fate...for more power. "...'Ey, hamburger-face!" The demon he'd called to had a face with many bullish features - including horns. "Ever heard of not being such a milker of bad luck?" Oh, the guy did have puns in spades. "Maybe it's me, but you should be MOOving back to Hell - oh! Your village called and they wanted to steak you out!" With that said, the huge demon charged - and Alastor slid under the demon as if he was doing a guitar solo by air and watched him smack into the wall; getting stuck. It took a bit to not laugh while he was still too close to the fugly.
AW: “That’s no--…fuck.” And there was the word again, of course. For those not privy to it, that was his favorite word; or one of. But that really didn’t matter right now. What did matter was that he was getting more irritable by the moment. It was apparent on his features and it was very much visible in his eyes. “I wasn’t in the shower, so no.” He raised his hand and flipped him the bird, this amongst one of his favorite gestures, though the order of things like that changed depending on situation. He grunted and stomped out the door to see what the shit was all about. Seriously, if these bastards fucked up his place of business, then he was going to be truly pissed. He was currently living there, after all, since it was easier than having to make back and forth trips. Why not just mix business and home life in this case? They were so closely intertwined that he’d long since given up trying to deny the damn fact. “This is it?” A dark brow raised, almost curious. Just this? Well, the fact was still there. This was going to be a little bit of fun and it did get him out, which was probably the best fact of all. “Well, whatever.” He hefted his sword in one hand, which within a few seconds changed form into a scythe, by extension of his will. He charged forward to get to work on some of the small fry, since that’s all they could really be called. But it was very quickly proven that he didn’t care what they were, evidently able to have fun no matter the size and quantity. “If that thing runs your ass over, I have every right to laugh at you; whoever the hell you are.” That was still getting to him, the familiarity with which he was regarded and treated. But it was still going to have to wait. Wiping these little pricks out with something as awesome as a scythe was oddly, well…satisfying, especially to his nerves.
DoW: As the Bullish dude bellowed, there was a shake beneath him - to get out of the way or suffer pain, the answer was obvious. Hand-springing to the side and then moving around the baddies that now surrounded him would be harder than most would think; but Alastor managed. He had to turn mid-spring to roll out of the path to avoid very much becoming a splat in the ground. Whomever this guy was...he had reflexes equal to his 'Boss'. The Boss-man whom was Dante Sparda, and the youth seemed to be having way too much fun. Sending purple waves from that dinky-sized Sai; he ducked an incoming demon to watch it smack into that charging bull's debris-covered head. Oh, he was a bit cautious - that had broken up the crap around the horns. "Damnit!" He'd need to sacrifice speed for power, and it wouldn't work that much against the big guy, unless it took some more or less innate problem solving! In this case, the guy with smooth black hair and shades...needed to use some of the small fry to his leisure, was that a plan - turning a lightning blade...into a demon-powered demon-bludgeon?! Yup. That was what the short-one came up with. And he could block and clock soon thereafter! Best use for his prison, ever! "Prisoner's gonna break out the cage!" He snarked, going to be sheathing the little weapon (by comparison), and grabbing the Lightning-based sword by the hilt with no ill-effects. "Blue, I think I want the small-fry for a second!" He mused carefully; ducking under the Shift-Reaper's latest decapitation. Alastor's weapon was held with both his hands, but weirdly enough - it was as well-carried as Ebony and Ivory...and easily thrusted as the other swung the scythe form of Shift-Reaper. Now, the reason why he really needed to get the demons was to try and break the Bovine-fugly's ass-long horns...with more splatters of demons to add insult to injury. "The horns this guy have to be dealt with first; damnit!" He had fought this guy before under the other unfavorable factors; and possibly got his ass handed to him; to barely survive. Well, humans had it rough! They couldn't make use of innate spiritual energy to Air-Hike without problems of splatting or becoming seriously ill.