[dante doesn't like tumbling out of sleep like he's been in it against his will. with every step on the cold floor, feet bare, dante's senses start picking up from the heavy, hazy status he had woken up in. it's slow-going, and he takes a while looking about to notice just how strange and out of place this is to what he remembers last: the demon world—hell, literally—a smell of hot garbage, gore, and a menacing presence throughout its expanse. the room he was stuck in small in comparison to what the hallway he's stepped into gives an inkling to. it's quiet and dark, a foreboding feeling raising the hairs at the back of his neck.]
[the sound of his blade rings in his ears still, what feels like a faraway memory, reminding him that he doesn't have the devil sword in his possession—it's deafening how quiet it is, but for a loud blaring noise that echoes throughout the hall—far away.]
About time you woke up from your beauty sleep.
[one of the other rooms open, and dante's recognition of someone else being around is barely present—just a tilt of his head, nothing more. his voice is surprisingly calm and keeps afloat despite the circumstances.]
[there's something that doesn't sit right with him about this whole place. call it years of experience, of 'the calm before the storm' a trained nerve under his skin.]
There's no time for questions. We're better off trying to get the hell out of this dump.
B. IN THE BUILDING, MONSTER ATTACK (OTA)
[his hair is a nuisance at this length—is what dante would think about if he ever had any sense of worry over whether his bangs cover his eyes or not.]
[the appearance of monsters flocking the halls is not entirely unexpected, more than used to these circumstances than not. it's just another day in the life of sparda's son, but there's still that feeling under his skin like he's just woken up; that everything's slower, especially since he can't quite default into his demonic powers.]
[not to mention, a hospital gown is hardly a fighting attire.]
[the creature dante fights is the humanoid creature with glowing eyes, snake-scale skin and long, flickering tail. the claws nearly catch him in a swipe, getting instead at his long hair, trimming it by a few inches.]
[there's a grin on his face as he presses back to a wall, near a table at the lab.]
Really? I thought it didn't look half bad myself. [the hair, he means] Like a rockstar. Hm?
[the creature rushes towards him, dante all but kicks the table at it, using the distraction to grab hold of its tail and whirling around before throwing it forcefully into a wall. he follows close behind, a scalpel digging into one of its glowing eyes, blood spurting out as it squeals in pain.]
I don't remember asking for your opinion anyway.
C. OUTSIDE (OTA)
[dante rolls his eyes at whoever is around. he's heard a couple of explanations about his being here, their being here, what this world is, the whole shebang. he isn't exactly thrilled—but he's also not going to let any worry or problems in this whole situation dampen his spirits.]
Yeah, okay.
[arms crossed, he's not exactly trying to make friends.]
Tell me that one of you thought to be a real hero and bring actual pants for us to wear.
D. SAFEHOUSE (OTA)
[perhaps like many others, dante has decided to take ownership of a cot far away from most people. it's just a personal thing, but he rather keep to himself than make any meaningful acquaintances while he's around. he's pretty weird so it'd only make sense for people to keep a distance, anyway.]
[regardless, find him 1. in bed, wearing a threadbare red shirt and baggy trousers, hands behind his head and one leg propped atop his other knee. clearly, he's browsing the network, seeing how he lacks a physical magazine of the sexy variety to look at. he could also be found 2. in the communal showers, looking himself over in the mirror after a pretty efficient shaving job, a studious look on his face as he presses thumb to chin and turns his head this way and that—one must really wonder how he can see at all, though, his hair pretty much covering his eyes.]
[for a more efficient conversation starter, dante is 3. at the mini-bar, obviously, his long hair in a ponytail, glancing over at the bottles and wondering which one resembles whiskey the most. the future sucks.]
I haven't really decided what to do with it yet. [his hair, he means, but there's really no context for this conversation starter.] You know how it is, that one decision and then fwick, [pouring a marroon-looking liquid into a glass] it's all over.
[eyes flicker up towards whoever is around, jostling the bottle in his hand.]
DANTE | DEVIL MAY CRY
[dante doesn't like tumbling out of sleep like he's been in it against his will. with every step on the cold floor, feet bare, dante's senses start picking up from the heavy, hazy status he had woken up in. it's slow-going, and he takes a while looking about to notice just how strange and out of place this is to what he remembers last: the demon world—hell, literally—a smell of hot garbage, gore, and a menacing presence throughout its expanse. the room he was stuck in small in comparison to what the hallway he's stepped into gives an inkling to. it's quiet and dark, a foreboding feeling raising the hairs at the back of his neck.]
[the sound of his blade rings in his ears still, what feels like a faraway memory, reminding him that he doesn't have the devil sword in his possession—it's deafening how quiet it is, but for a loud blaring noise that echoes throughout the hall—far away.]
About time you woke up from your beauty sleep.
[one of the other rooms open, and dante's recognition of someone else being around is barely present—just a tilt of his head, nothing more. his voice is surprisingly calm and keeps afloat despite the circumstances.]
[there's something that doesn't sit right with him about this whole place. call it years of experience, of 'the calm before the storm' a trained nerve under his skin.]
There's no time for questions. We're better off trying to get the hell out of this dump.
B. IN THE BUILDING, MONSTER ATTACK (OTA)
[his hair is a nuisance at this length—is what dante would think about if he ever had any sense of worry over whether his bangs cover his eyes or not.]
[the appearance of monsters flocking the halls is not entirely unexpected, more than used to these circumstances than not. it's just another day in the life of sparda's son, but there's still that feeling under his skin like he's just woken up; that everything's slower, especially since he can't quite default into his demonic powers.]
[not to mention, a hospital gown is hardly a fighting attire.]
[the creature dante fights is the humanoid creature with glowing eyes, snake-scale skin and long, flickering tail. the claws nearly catch him in a swipe, getting instead at his long hair, trimming it by a few inches.]
[there's a grin on his face as he presses back to a wall, near a table at the lab.]
Really? I thought it didn't look half bad myself. [the hair, he means] Like a rockstar. Hm?
[the creature rushes towards him, dante all but kicks the table at it, using the distraction to grab hold of its tail and whirling around before throwing it forcefully into a wall. he follows close behind, a scalpel digging into one of its glowing eyes, blood spurting out as it squeals in pain.]
I don't remember asking for your opinion anyway.
C. OUTSIDE (OTA)
[dante rolls his eyes at whoever is around. he's heard a couple of explanations about his being here, their being here, what this world is, the whole shebang. he isn't exactly thrilled—but he's also not going to let any worry or problems in this whole situation dampen his spirits.]
Yeah, okay.
[arms crossed, he's not exactly trying to make friends.]
Tell me that one of you thought to be a real hero and bring actual pants for us to wear.
D. SAFEHOUSE (OTA)
[perhaps like many others, dante has decided to take ownership of a cot far away from most people. it's just a personal thing, but he rather keep to himself than make any meaningful acquaintances while he's around. he's pretty weird so it'd only make sense for people to keep a distance, anyway.]
[regardless, find him 1. in bed, wearing a threadbare red shirt and baggy trousers, hands behind his head and one leg propped atop his other knee. clearly, he's browsing the network, seeing how he lacks a physical magazine of the sexy variety to look at. he could also be found 2. in the communal showers, looking himself over in the mirror after a pretty efficient shaving job, a studious look on his face as he presses thumb to chin and turns his head this way and that—one must really wonder how he can see at all, though, his hair pretty much covering his eyes.]
[for a more efficient conversation starter, dante is 3. at the mini-bar, obviously, his long hair in a ponytail, glancing over at the bottles and wondering which one resembles whiskey the most. the future sucks.]
I haven't really decided what to do with it yet. [his hair, he means, but there's really no context for this conversation starter.] You know how it is, that one decision and then fwick, [pouring a marroon-looking liquid into a glass] it's all over.
[eyes flicker up towards whoever is around, jostling the bottle in his hand.]
What's your poison?