Dreams Will Be Made Of These | By : Britt_601 Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3810 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters. Blah, blah, blah-no money is made off of this either. |
Chapter 7: And Action, No Wait, Cut! Pt 2
Nero swarmed himself in a constant tactic of dodging and rolling from the demonic attacks. The plan of action earlier proved useless as two of the leggy brutes simultaneously lunged for him, leaving him to reassess his situation before they gained the advantage.
A Soul Eater caught his right leg and hauled him into the air, zapping his energy. Its limbs made a show to enclose around him when the youngster reacted quickly, grabbing Red Queen's hilt to make an upside-down horizontal slash, slicing the air spider on through.
The other freaks shrieked in fury after seeing its comrade dissipate into purple liquid. With Nero's squatted form facing away from the rogue it charged towards the younger slayer, using its rage to impel itself forward. Nero swiveled just in time to propel a roundhouse kick into the core of the demon's… face-stomach. He withdrew his prized firearm and shot the air-spider point-blank, getting some of the eggplant-hued blood sloshed onto his blue jacket.
The partial-demon landed with a soft thud on the ground a few meters from an approaching Hell Wrath, smiling in devious mirth before aiming his double revolver and firing a single set into the Wrath, enlarging the bomb on the critter's back. Discarding his senses to detect the screech behind him, Nero slammed with brute force into the earth by the remaining Soul Eater, knocking the gun out of his left hand.
Six limbs wrapped in a tight clinch around the youth, sucking his life away; the teen growing weaker as escape fleeted through his thoughts. Nero had both arms lifted above his head by two separate tentacles while both of his lower legs enfolded in a single limb; the rest enveloped his mid-section.
He struggled and snarled to release himself from the draining hold. There flashed this unsettling, tingling sensation swimming throughout his entire physique then pooling out of him, like a sink full of water going down a drain. Nero rolled on the ground only to have the creature tighten its clutches.
The Hell Wrath survived long enough into its final stages. The orange bomb reached its maximum potential, the rogue collapsing behind the blue octopus imprisoning Nero. Mr. Explosion catapulted both demons of different backgrounds into a nearby thicket of shrubs. The Soul Eater dissipated into slushy, purple liquid all over the back of Nero's jacket.
A light sigh escaped his lips when the feel of soft, rich brown earth touched his sore muscles, welcoming the calming, earthy smell wafting through his nostrils.
Pfft, and the veteran assumed he couldn't handle his business.
Giving up or running away from a dispute never sat well with him. If anything, it urged him to face the obstacle. Exploring new things always perked his curiosity, some for the better and some for the worst since leaving the closed-off town.
He had a mind of his own which entitled him to do what he pleased. Nobody thought for him and they didn't need to. He had to experience life to understand its trivialities. Well, this one on the account of it being full of shit.
Still, he failed to overcome that livelihood in Fortuna.
It exposed him to a harsh reality. Nero knew the Order of the Sword and its leader pumped themselves with falsehoods. Thus why he scoffed at religion in general. Even he was smart enough to realize humans worshiping a devil wasn't normal.
In the righteous society Sanctus created, the outside world is flawed. Evil. Corrupt. And what the fuck did Fortuna harbor exactly? The same principles he taught with such enthusiasm came right back around and bit Sanctus in the aft end.
When the facts revealed itself, the community refused to accept the change. People fear the unknown. It's much easier to relish in an easy ignorance than a hard truth. Dante allowed him to see the world and how to escape these preconceived notions.
Amidst all the crazy drama the elder had seen and done in his life, he still poked fun at it in its entire splendor. Though Nero glimpsed the man brooding every so often. Maybe he had seen and done too much shit in his lifetime to let those emotions slip out from time to time.
The teenager rolled over to assess his current footing, mind a sluggish cesspool of wandering thoughts. On average, he could go a whole round with Hell's inhabitants before tiring out. Damn Soul Eaters.
Lying down gave Nero the impression that that move wasn't a wise choice. His back felt wet and slimy turning over. Sitting up with a worried look, he glanced over his shoulder and scowled, deeply.
The back of his jacket looked as if he made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in a muddy puddle, with his jacket serving as the bread. Apparently these demons are a messy kill, leaving a mark on everything they die on. Nonetheless this was just nasty.
He took to a slow movement to crawl onto all fours, placing his left hand on the ground and his right against the side of a nearby tree. Shaking his head to ward off the groggy sensation wasn't helping to rectify his stance.
Not bad for his first time dealing with the new ghouls. Got a few bumps and bruises along the way, only he survived to be the survivor. Nero braced himself against the trunk and lifted himself, aware of the oozing mess of purple and brown trails descending his spine.
"Un-fucking believable," he groaned.
His coat wasn't easy to clean due to the denim material. Accursed blood would splatter and splotch all over him slaying his enemies, and the smell of the reeking substance possessed a stench that blurred his vision until the odor wore off. Luckily, the elder acquired home remedies to clear out the tough spots. However, Nero could feel the substances seep into the fabric of his jacket. No soap powder or DIY kits can get that out. He guaranteed that.
The last remaining Hell Wrath approached in front of him. These big dipshits are annoyingly helpful in eliminating their own friends. They supplied a neutral trump card in battle for either side of the playing field.
Considering the area deficient in anything left to blow up except itself, the youngster might as well dispose of it and move on. Yet Nero bubbled with disgust that his jacket washed itself in a sea of purple grape jelly and mashed up brownies. So what better way to take his pent-up anger out on the bastard at fault for his dirtied appearance.
Dante.
If he hadn't been so pre-occupied in explaining his safety precautions, he and Nero could have taken care of all these Hellish dwellers without any trouble at all, but nooo. The dork wanted to hold his hand and give him a grand tour of the situation, probably before handling the problem all by himself.
Yield to his submission, next time.
"Oh no, not you again!"
Red eyes narrowed into tiny slits, boring acid holes into pools of stony periwinkles. Rows of sharp teeth displayed in pride, oozing green liquid from the fangs on the dark carpet. Its black, porcelain body dangled from the tail, the body's glass structure feeling as tense as a coiled spring.
The hybrid looked at the legless, glass-like scorpion that nearly latched onto his throat. These legless assholes secured the amazing ability to use their pincers to hop from place to place, and at a high velocity. Luckily for him, their claws were too heavy to hoist up, along with their stinger, which drooped helplessly in Dante's grip. The scorpion's material made the thing bulky. Dante guessed the legs broke because it couldn't hold its own weight.
"Looks like someone couldn't keep their hand outta the cookie jar," Dante snickered, giving the trapped bogy a rough shake. "You know you could stand to lose a few pounds; my arm's getting tired just from holdin' ya!" He held the thing up close to his face, observing the white bedeviled symbols etched into the skin of the scorpion. He surmised that the emblems controlled the mutation, closely resembling the ones on the door.
His brain pushed an image to the forefront of his thoughts. On one of his stranger missions, he confronted a month back these bat-looking things attacked him, leaving a rather nasty liquid coursing through his veins after a few chomped on him. Trish guessed the signs enabled the demons to hide dormant venom until they bit someone, killing them within hours. Dante and his healing abilities however…
Taking another glance around the room, Dante assumed this woman diddled in dark magic, judging by the references on display.
He needed to take some of that material to build up his damper collection of a library at home. And maybe even look through them... like actually reading them to see what the book yapped about. If they wrote it in a demonic language then... that's the author's fault. He understood a nice amount of the foreign dialect, it's just that some of the books required decoding and he did not have the patience to sit down and translate the text.
Focused pale blues scrutinized the hideous thing, noticing missing ears, nose and a chin. Its tiny mouth supported sharp and gnarled teeth, wondering if it used the orifice as a suctioning device… like Maria. Maria had a small mouth with the thinnest labiums yet she moved them in sultry gestures, along with a busty rack. When this mission was over, he should hit her up so he could watch her mouth stretch to swallow his―
"Hey! You little shit!"
The porcelain scorpion either committed suicide for being upheld in an insulting style or the veteran's grip held it too tight. In turn, he let the critter fall onto the floor, shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces. The chieftain took a step forward, satisfyingly crunching the remaining portions too big for his liking. He wasn't finished thinking about Maria's talents and that thing spoiled the moment.
Dante wiped both hands on his black chaps before closing the briefcase, wincing from the pain on his left forefinger. He looked at said finger, noticing a tiny, protruding black splinter, bringing the knuckle up to eye level to confirm his suspicion.
The veteran tried to pick at the stubborn thing yet his short nails couldn't grasp it. Though only a sliver and it shouldn't be of major importance, the acid or venom would affect him. If he had something pointy and small to get it out, like Nero's girly claws, he'll be right again.
"… Sparda… Sparda… come to me my love."
Now this is getting interesting.
Dante swiveled around to pin-point the soft yet alluring voice. He left the entry open, thus he supposed whoever saw him could witness his pre-occupied musings. Bad move on his part. The call became a little louder and more persistent.
"Come to me my Sparda… come to me now."
The veteran suspected that the voice belonged to the woman who lived in this house… and those symbols on the door. Evidently, she waited on him to discover her; the bearings of falling in a setup coming to mind.
The hunter decided to play a game to identify who or what challenged him. It was always great to know the unknown… or at least to see what type of unknown it wore down to be. He took slow steps away from the desk, ignoring the numbing feeling starting to reside in his forefinger.
"Why don't you come to me, babe? You won't be ashamed if you come forward to see Sparda."
"Come now. Give me what I want," said the voice in faint whispers.
Dante made his way out into the hallway, making sure to look both ways to avoid engaging in a "boo" attack; hand still on Ivory should anything come out and surprise him.
"Why don't you come now so that I can see you, my love," he spat out the words in mocking retaliation.
"Do as I say, my sweet, and come to me now," she said, her tone fluctuating in irritation.
"Why don't you come here to see what I got coming for you," he said, arms open in his ever-familiar gesture.
Apparently the mystery woman did not like being toyed with, her hissing sounds undergoing a venomous undertone. Did she hold a snake in her hand or something?
The hybrid spun to see a small French-tipped, slender palm curve around the wall, drawing imaginary seductive circles to entice the halfling.
"Well now see, was that so hard for you to do?" he drawled.
"This is your last warning Sparda, come to me now!" The mysterious fiend alluringly beckoned her finger to the devil slayer.
"How 'bout we make a deal? You show yourself to me, and I'll give you the whole lot of me. Sounds good, babe?" He took a few steps toward the mysterious hand; the ever-smelling concoction of lilac and cigarettes growing stronger the nearer he grew.
The mystery girl slid another hand across the wall to join her other seducing him. Only this one held a pincer twice the size of her palm, with sharp ridges on the inside claw. The chieftain's grin faltered in expecting a total babe to stand before him. Anyone who had a mutated arm destined to look hideous… except Nero.
She lifted herself up and came around the corner, crawling sideways along the wall, revealing herself to the hybrid. Her olive complexion stood out greatly against her long, auburn-red hair. High chiseled cheekbones and natural pink, pouty lips detailed her face.
That stayed the nice thing about her, with her bare upper assets.
Light caramel nipples peeked from under her long locks, her skin tone carrying down to her waist where her warm shade changed hues. A rough formation of obsidian-hued, porcelain like-scales continued downwards throughout her legs.
Instead of stubbly limbs like an actual scorpion, she had two sets of feet on each side of her body, black as tar as she slid along the white hallway walls. Yet this woman had the nerve to have the toenails painted red. Red . To complete her hybrid appearance, Dante caught sight of a menacing stinger waving silently behind her the closer she ventured to him.
"Hmph," Dante said, a mixture of appreciation and disappointment fighting to come through at the lack of wholesome beauty. Sure she looked a babe in the face, it's just her gangly body turned him off.
"Maybe I should have just let… Okay I'm sorry. You're a total babe from the waist-up and… I'm just not into bestiality."
The she-fiend hissed with sinister vibrations, not taking the jesting comments lightly. The skilled hunter knew he needed to think on his feet. She repeatedly called him his father's name, and whenever the bad guys called him that, the fight would justify vengeance of a dead comrade or a fight to the death, or some other worthless shit like that.
"You will not escape me, wretched seed of Sparda. I can still smell his foul stench flowing through your body. You shall die for his betrayal!" She came off the wall, her full height standing somewhere around six feet.
Go figure.
Dante back flipped out of the way with quick reflexes, avoiding a nasty injury with the lady's stinger. His feet touched solid ground, too slow to dodge the she-demon's beastly uppercut with her human hand to Dante's stubbly chin.
The devil hunter reeled backwards, airborne for several seconds before rolling to a halt at the opposite end of the hall; eyeballs shifting upwards to look into smug, cerulean hues.
Nero worked his way into the massive mansion with caution, taking warning to keep his presence incognito. Though, he wasn't sure what made him go into the house in the first place. Nero surmised that it would be good to check up on the lady to tell her they arrived to rid of her infestation.
A sudden increase in hexed energy arose that didn't belong to the elder. He didn't know if Dante went to the backyard or not, but who cared?
Nero took a right to see if the woman would be in the kitchen, her eyes probably filled with terror as to what lurked outside her premises. Mentally distraught described most of the callers by the time the hunters got to them, and he conceived this one to be the same.
When he snuck into the kitchenette however, he viewed the Cutlasses roaming undisturbed as if nothing disrupted their actions. No sign of a stressed-out damsel popped up either.
"I know these are his favorite friends, but what is he waiting for?" he chuckled. His intentions didn't include battling them anyhow. He tired of their irksome ways from his encounter back home, and he had no interest in handling them again.
Cerulean hues scanned with careful scrutiny of his surroundings in the kitchen when a silky whisper beckoned Sparda's name. At first, he assumed he heard things until the voice became a little louder and more pressing.
Following the sound came the taunting tone of the red hunter, not doing his job and dawdling on some other shit. He could see the crimson jackass romancing her right now, showing his pearly whites and easy smile and her falling for his natural charms.
"Dammit Dante!" Nero walked back the way he came into the living room, ready to hand the veteran's distracted ass to him. The voices echoed the closer he moved to walking towards the other side of the house. "We got a fucking situation here and all you're thinking about is stroking...!"
Well, wasn't this a sight to behold. Nero halted in his march upon seeing the infamous devil hunter getting sucker-punched by a… topless she-scorpion. A sharp, grunted curse left his lips, flying backwards from the impact and skidding to a stop right at the youngster's feet.
In all of his days, Nero never thought he would chance upon viewing the man making a silly slip-up like that. He presumed Dante could get any woman to swoon to his advances. This was too good an opportunity to let slide.
Arms of different biological markings stretched upwards then to the side, folding them across his chest in a haughty manner, looking down at the half-hell in humor. "Lemme guess… she didn't fall for your rugged charms?"
"Bi—" Dante never had the time to respond, an audible crack filling the space of his answer. Nero's sneering visage turned into a grimace. His stubbly jaw, that thing he couldn't keep closed, had physically broken and jutted out at an odd angle, leaning over towards the right.
Nero showed a graceless face at the display, feeling a little empathetic to the "expert's" current ache.
His bones never experienced the frugality of breaking, just small cuts here and bruising bruises there... and the incident when Agnus cracked his breastbone open. Seeing the elder fracture before him grounded him to lead with caution upon approaching this fight. Never minding the injured hunter, it tickled him with humor to see his slip-up.
"Okay, so we'll chat later once I finish everything myself." He bent over to grab both of the chieftain's hands, intending on helping him up and moving him to the side. "You just sit back and rest and watch me do every...!"
Nero's words caught in his throat, glancing up just in time to forcibly pull both him and the veteran backwards from the descending stinger, dislocating both of the elder's arms out of their sockets with the hard jerk.
“Someone didn't stretch this morning,” the teen strained, hands lightly trembling as a slow feeling of guilt crept into his gut. He didn't mean for that to happen at all and the elder... would have to bear healing himself because Nero couldn't aid him.
The youth stopped to release his grip before mouthing the word "sorry"; charging forward to face the bewitched hag responsible for his injury. Maybe from now on the "chief" will stick to the job at hand instead of getting disturbed by unimportant interruptions.
She diverted her attention to the mongrel moving to recover from his fall. The only thing standing in her way stood a mini white-haired wannabe who really should've stayed at home playing those mind-numbing video games. The demoness wondered if one of those human fashion “trends” happened with that terrible hair color and hideous style in fashion.
"Get out of the way minion, or you'll come to suffer the same fate the half-breed shall endure," she growled, eyes never leaving the halfling's form.
"I don't know who you're talking to because I ain't a minion, saddle bags."
"You wretched brat! I'll have your skull on a mantle!" She leapt forward, trying to enclose Nero in her overgrown pincer. Nero shifted to the side to see her stinger coming down on him, almost making a jab into him. His devil bringer deflected the attack but just like the red hunter, he was too slow to react from that uppercut that sent him reeling headfirst… suspiciously into Dante's lap.
"FUUU!"
The red one couldn't close his mouth to form the "ck" sound from his exclamatory reaction. Nero's face planted itself in the heart of the veteran's crotch, remaining frozen upon realizing where he landed.
The minute he knew his position should've prompted immediate removal from the veteran's precious jewels, only his head spun in circles from the sucker punch the lady delivered. That thing held its weight on par to his devil bringer when he gave that a go.
Dante had to swiftly and mentally prepare his left hand to hold itself over his right shoulder to pop it back into place. Easier said than done due to his genitalia feeling on fire from Nero's 'embedded' placement.
He wouldn't mind being blown off, (in this case by Nero because her attitude bathed in the bath of atrocious etiquette) but pressing matters called his attention. With a final tug, he popped said shoulder into its socket with force, twitching his eyes as pain tore at his arm. He reached into his holster and grabbed Ebony; Ivory detached from his grip spiraling backwards in the air.
"That, my dear seed of Sparda, is how you will spend the rest of your days, nestled between my legs as my children feast from your flesh." The she-devil approached in strong steps, her meaty breasts swaying in a light rhythm in a seductive gait.
The crimson hunter would have stared in awe at her perky pair longer had she not said that. He aimed Ebony at one of her human-like soles and fired. Her reaction time couldn't dodge the bullet, but still progressed towards the two.
Dante readjusted his aim at a foot on the opposite side of her, readying to pull the trigger when Nero exerted a hearty groan into the heart of his crotch, his target veering off balance and shot a slug at the couch. Her stinger positioned to spring into another attack when he regained his composure, shooting a barrage of bullets into her stomach; bits and pieces of her porcelain scales breaking off.
She shrieked and retreated, her stinger twisting excitedly behind her. Dante reached up and grabbed his chin with his right hand, popping his stubbly mandible back into usage; rotating his jowl around to get it functioning again.
Biting stings of anger rocketed throughout his mouth, jabbing and stabbing electric bolts all along the course of his jaw line structure. He rotated his left arm until the thing naturally clicked into place, annoying little ebbs of agony pulsing within his limb.
A dark essence simmered inside his core, Dante trying to push it down for it desired to mutilate with his increased injuries. At present, he can either try and retreat until his body calmed or use that misery to fuel his desire to kill her. Both seemed like a sound idea; the latter would prove better results.
As his nerves bit at his sanity, he supported his weight on his right arm, looking down at the mop of white hair moving too slowly to gather himself back to reality. Nero's unexpected groan caught him off guard, feeling his blood travel down to his sleeping snake and change into a somewhat stiffening rod.
Dante shook his noggin prior to any more useless thoughts polluting his mind, allowing her to strike again and kill them both.
"Love Planet, here I come."
In advance to telling the punk to move she leapt in front of him, within striking distance to behead the fledgling. With a spur of the moment decision his right leg wrapped around Nero's shoulder, pressing him further into his manly apex to keep her from killing the teen.
In a blur of speeding bullets he shot her milliseconds before she sliced Nero's head off, the teen's stifled yelps of alarm mixing in with the sound of pellets piercing into her stomach. The partial-hybrid started thrashing around, trying to lift his head up and away from said place but Dante kept his leg firm.
"Mmante, met moff!" Nero's muffled demand went unanswered as the slugs rained down on the demoness. His arms found anchor on the veteran's knees, using those sturdy things to loosen himself from his grip. The elder saw a scaly arm glowing in bright intensity, releasing his leg to let the youngster fall onto his back.
Dante withdrew Rebellion with her distracted howls, penetrating the broadsword through her hide. Rebellion carried the she-fiend with enough force to pin her to the opposite wall, temporarily immobilizing his opponent.
She bucked under her newfound entrapment, trying to pull the damned sword out of her stomach. Satisfied with her temporary prison he stood up, glancing down into a flushed face, his body still aching from its enforced healing.
"What did… Why… What the fuck?"
"It's called thinking on your feet." Dante said, taking quick inhales to calm his inner demon from breaking its cage.
"But why did you do… that?"
"Either your head would have rolled on the floor or have my balls smother your face. Pick a lesser evil." Dante said, giving the brat a long, hard look before making a 'come here' motion with his hand. Rebellion responded to her owner's call, along with the seething, half-naked scorpion.
He back-flipped over her head as she lunged at the halfling, kicking her in the nape of her neck for good measure. She staggered forward, coming under the duress of a whiplash. That child side-stepped her proximity, her tail descended upon him in a rapid curve.
Taking advantage of the fledgling's stunned state would have assured her victory over the half-breed's defeat, if only that brat didn't grab onto the ball-shaped part of her stinger with his scaly arm. Feeling the unwanted weight on her end piece, she flung the appendage in vicious jerks while the youth held on.
Nero whipped around like a haphazard rag doll, crashing into walls with brute force. The action picked up quickly, leaving him little time to assess his emotion on... that incident.
His back met the living room table, breaking said furniture into a batch of varying splinters. Nero grabbed the biggest wooden stake he could catch and stabbed it through her stinger. A porcelain-like chunk of hide came off exposing green, acidic liquid oozing out of the wound. A screaming wail flew out of her mouth while she spun, intending on delivering another right hook to the irritating rascal.
"Keep her busy for a sec." Dante searched around the couches for Ivory, side-stepping and dodging the titty queen's pincer.
Balled fingers traveled towards Nero's face while he met her fist with equal velocity. His devil bringer shook from the impact, sending trembling vibrations coursing through his arm.
In direct view of her profile, he could see her pleasing features. Large almond eyes smiled in cruel rage into his own. Her perky breasts lifted with every breath, having the right amount of jiggle to entice any side of the playing field. She gave off this airy, lilac scent that questionably made his demon hum in appreciation. But the heavy perfume of cigarettes turned him away from appreciating her allure in full.
The teen's peripheral vision caught her pincer inching towards him, ready to sneak a damaging blow to his person. Suspecting such an action he reared back, an enlarged blue specter of his demonic hand punching the titty lady square in the face.
She staggered, loosing her balance on the left side of her body. Angered at the cheap shot she threw Nero out of the living room window, straight into the heart of the commotion where the Cutlasses roamed.
Alerted to the new sound bestowed upon them, two of the Cutlasses made a beeline to the youngster, while another disappeared into the ground; ripples of the earth formed right beneath where the youth fell.
A/N: Yeah, I couldn't end the action here, so I gave it another chapter. These 10 pages came easy for me, but why can't I do a term paper this big, lol. I tried to give a little hint of naughtiness for the both of them, [Dante actually] since some of ya'll wanted to see them rip into each other already (you perverts). XD
Also, I think it was Natgeo or Animal Planet or something, and they had these legless scorpions on there, and like they would 'hop' to get where they needed to go! It was the weirdest thing, so I put that idea in there.
On a final note, I have to say (or lack of) this: DmC anyone?
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