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Post by Sparda on Jun 14, 2011 17:37:42 GMT -6
Finally, a place in which he didn't look quite so anachronistic.
Following the fiasco surrounding the sudden arrival of the Aircano refugees in this quiet, neutral city, Sparda had found the time to explore Hallowton. Enraptured by the Victorian aesthetic of the city and the friendliness of its articulate, well-bred people, he wandered for hours.
Now, with night having fallen, he stood alone on the balcony of the inn room he had procured, still able to feel the almost Dickensian atmosphere of the place. The madness of Aircano was merely a solemn shadow in the back of his mind, displaced by the peacefulness of their new home...
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Post by Silver Eyes on Jun 14, 2011 17:47:48 GMT -6
"Feel any different?"
A black mist curled onto the balcony, spiraled upward, widened in diameter and Amoura stepped out of it, donned in the armor she only wore as a vampire. With her no longer wielding Revelation, having relinquished it to Sparda, she had obtained a new blade and it was strapped to her back. The hilt was simple in design with metallic rings dangling from it and runes etched into the surface--the rest of the weapon had the same design in mind but currently hidden by the sheathe.
"Your aura has changed color and the movements have shifted direction. I impaled you with Revelation for a reason."
Amoura folded her arms atop the railing and stared out at the city. She never saw this type of environment and it was a refreshing break from what she had been used to. Even the calmest of places had its troubles, unfortunately.
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Post by Sparda on Jun 15, 2011 13:37:55 GMT -6
He felt her before he saw her; instantly recognising the sudden darkness of Amoura's aura in the air around him, he was not surprised by the sudden disembodied voice, nor the swirling cloud of black mist out of which the Night Huntress stepped quite dramatically.
Her words, however, certainly caught his attention. He had indeed felt the change in his aura, and it was far from superficial. He felt as if the very nature of his great power had been twisted; taken out of the domain of the demon and shared with a creature of an altogether different kind. Whatever had happened, it was Amoura's doing, and she was clearly here to explain it to him.
That in mind, Sparda turned his azure gaze upon his prodigal Devil May Cry colleague.
"What did you do to me, Amoura...?"
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Post by Silver Eyes on Jun 15, 2011 14:01:17 GMT -6
"That's the question I asked a certain someone when my vampire powers awoke." Amoura turned from the railing and leaned against it. The evening breeze lazily toyed with her red, tattered cloak while she continued with her explanation, "When I passed away, the essence I had as a vampire latched onto Revelation, my sealed form onto Sazan's gun and my demon onto Quicksilver. Your prolonged exposure to it made you absorb it, but it required more than that."
The vampire gestured to the transformed blade, "The aura had to be unlocked with Revelation as the key. Sparda, while it's not blatantly obvious, you now have vampire blood coursing through your veins. You haven't developed a thirst, which means that your demonic self has suppressed that need. Or, you haven't fully awoken."
"Tonight, I want to help you get started on mastering those new abilities you have. After this, you should be able to get them down with practice."
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Post by Sparda on Jun 17, 2011 10:49:54 GMT -6
Amoura's prompt response almost seemed to have passed over Sparda's head; but spurred by memories of a very similar situation, he soon caught on and flashed a smile of realisation. He listened as Amoura explained what had happened; by impaling him upon Revelation, harbouring a fragment of the Night Angel's soul that had long since been assimilated as part of the Dark Knight's power, she had unsealed the dark influence of her own vampiric capabilities and it too had been harnessed by the demon.
All that remained was to learn to use it.
Sparda cast his gaze down at Revelation, propped against the balcony beside him. He'd known the transformation held significance, but only now could begin to understand why...
"Then what are we waiting for?" he asked Amoura, turning to face her with a familiar confident conviction upon his face. "The night's not getting any younger."
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Post by Silver Eyes on Jun 17, 2011 11:37:03 GMT -6
If only she had been this willing when her powers were coaxed out. Every fiber of her being regretted her ignorance and fear but at the very least, she had learned valuable life lessons from her stubbornness. Amoura stood next to Sparda and cast her silver gaze onto the city before extending her metal encased arm towards the masses:
"There are thousands or more people in this city. Listen to the shadows; hear each individual heart-beat like your own.’’
Her voice was barely above a whisper so Sparda could begin tapping into his vampiric powers. The first attempt at this feat takes some time, not a lot, but enough to require silence on the teacher's part. The day her vampire powers awoke, Ranka had to give her at least a minute before continuing the lesson--that's all Sparda will need.
"Become the hunter, and find your prey before she finds hers..."
With that, Amoura jumped over the railing and began free falling. The distance wasn't that long and just when Sparda may think she was going to hit the ground, she disappeared into the shadow of a building.
If Sparda's senses still remained opened from earlier, he'll hear the familiar sound of a thick cloth rippling in the wind not too far off from one of the edifices of the city.
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Post by Sparda on Jun 18, 2011 14:12:02 GMT -6
The more Amoura spoke of it, the more clearly Sparda could hear what she was describing; sounds from across the city, whether the fleeting whistle of wind or the rhythmic thud of a heartbeat. Altogether it was just indecipherable static, the white noise of a society in slumber, but as he began to focus in the silence surrounding his immediate vicinity the demon found himself able to pick out individual sounds to the exclusion of all others; only passively had he been able to make out the vampiress' scarcely audible explanation. How had he not noticed this wondrous honing of his senses before...?
All too soon his respite was over, and with a parting challenge, Amoura disappeared over the balcony and into the darkness. The Dark Knight remained in place, looking around as if expecting to spot her but also scanning the air for any audial trace...
There it was. He had heard that thick rustle of fabric often enough to recognise it as Amoura's heavy crimson cape; obviously the challenge was to utilise these sharpened senses to track her. Sounded like fun. Smirking, the Dark Knight stepped back and took a running leap off the balcony, plummeting to the street below. He hit the ground feet first and immediately rolled forwards, springing up into a sprint in pursuit of Amoura. It felt strange that all he was following was the sound of the Night Angel's cape as she too crossed the city to some unknown destination.
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Post by Silver Eyes on Jun 18, 2011 19:01:56 GMT -6
Think less like a demon tonight. Amoura's thoughts brushed against Sparda's as she kept racing through the city to continue the lesson. As expected, he was tapping into his new abilities quickly and she couldn't have been more proud of her friend. She had tried to teach others the basics but using Ranka's tactics have proven to bear more fruit.
Think like a vampire. Meld with the night, become the shadow and control it... Amoura ran right into one of the walls that had been blocking her path but she didn't appear on the other side or any other part of the edifice. Again, he'll hear her but the more he tapped into the new senses, more add on: the sound of her footfalls, the leather in her armor straining and the metal talons scraping against brick to propel her to another location.
Become the shadow, Sparda. She repeated, Let it wrap around you but never consume--make it bend to your will.
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Post by Sparda on Jun 20, 2011 14:50:33 GMT -6
Where Amoura went, Sparda followed, and the longer the chase went on the easier he found it to track her by sound. To a passer-by he would seem to be sprinting across thin air; where there were no walls for him to run along and kick off, he made his own by fashioning platforms of hardlight energy underfoot.
Make it bend to your will...
The demon thought about this statement, a suggestion entering his head as to precisely what Amoura meant by it. After seeing how she disappeared from the hotel, he was pretty sure that was what he was meant to take from it. But how...?
He would ask for a demonstration later, when he wasn't busy pursuing the vampiress. For now, he gave chase through the darkness, bouncing through the air off floating platforms of his creation.
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Post by Silver Eyes on Jun 20, 2011 16:05:07 GMT -6
Sparda may need more help with learning how to maneuver through the shadows so that lesson may have to be postponed until he catches up with her. The Dark Knight was doing a good job at that part of the lesson and she felt now was the time to raise it up a notch.
The sound of a gunshot cracked in the night.
Demon gangs have started coming to this town and only at night. I injured one of them. Your job is to find them by using your new senses. Once you have succeeded in doing so, tell me where and I will join you for the next part of the lesson.
Amoura could hardly wait to show him what else a vampire could do.
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Post by Sparda on Jun 21, 2011 12:07:12 GMT -6
The bark of a gunshot rent the silence, and Sparda almost doubled his pace. Amoura's voice echoed once again in his mind, explaining her actions; as the demon nodded his understanding to the air, slowly her point came to his attention. He could smell a distance trace of demon blood, clear in the crisp night air, and the more he focused the sharper it became. He moved now with a clear purpose, as if guided by some preternatural knowledge of his quarry...
The group he came across were large and vaguely reptilian in appearance. One was missing its arm, roughly shredded from its body; the useless extremity lay upon the ground, twitching occasionally, and the ragged stump to which it had once been attached bled profusely. The demon found himself having to dial down his sense of smell as he approached (how absurd he thought it that he could vary the strength of his senses as if with a switch), so strong was the reek of blood once he got close.
"Follow the stench," the Dark Knight responded to Amoura, merely thinking his reply and hoping she heard rather than directing it at her, wherever she was lurking.
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Post by Silver Eyes on Jun 21, 2011 12:22:05 GMT -6
"You did better than I during my first lesson."
Amoura sprang out of another shadow and crouched down to examine the scene below. The injured demon was being tended to while others looked for the source of the gunshot that took his arm. The Night Angel and Sparda had concealed their auras and their scent was downwind so finding them would be a difficult task at present.
"Stealth is one of the vampires greatest weapons." She moved away from the edge to demonstrate to Sparda what she had been doing throughout the city during his pursuit. "The shadows are both our sword and shield. Wield it." Amoura stepped over the shadow she had emerged from and began to sink into it, "Become it." Those were the last words she uttered before disappearing within it.
From the other side of Sparda, she reemerged and gestured for him to try. "You see those shadows down there? There's plenty of opportunity to take them down without being seen. Take the time you need to understand what you must do."
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Post by Sparda on Jun 21, 2011 13:30:21 GMT -6
Indeed, this was what Amoura had been alluding to all night. Sparda watched as she backed into the shadow and simply disappeared into it, reforming as if from the darkness itself on his other side. He turned his attention from her, nodding briefly, and focused on the demons; they were too busy tending to the one Amoura had shot to even notice that their assailant was right there.
The demon knelt beside a dumpster, staying downwind and out of sight. In the shadow, even his silver hair barely reflected any of the already dim light. He pressed a gloved hand to the darkened brick wall against which he was backed, looked over his shoulder as if into the dark and concentrated.
Become the shadow...
For a moment, Sparda glanced up at the demons to make sure he hadn't been seen, and in that moment he felt a sudden coldness wash over his hand. He looked back down at the shadows beside him - wasn't the wall supposed to be there?
Blinking, the demon shifted a bit more weight onto that hand, expecting it to sink further into the darkness. So it did. With a measure of caution that looked almost tentative, the Dark Knight pushed himself into the shadow, submerging his body in the darkness... and disappeared.
When he next emerged, it was at the other end of the alley, perhaps a foot or so closer to the demons. Sparda pulled himself merely halfway out of the darkness, looking as if his legs were stuck in the ground, and observed the demons again; this time his thoughts took a tactical turn, examining the darkness for the closest position from which he could strike unnoticed. It wasn't often he took such time picking and choosing how he wished to kill a foe...
A quiet metallic shink rang out in the silence of the night, giving a shrill echo through the alley, and one of the demons seemed to fall still. An anguished snarl crossed its face, and its body twitched as if it would not move despite the beast willing it to do so. The rest of the group only really started paying attention to its plight when the top half of its skull slid out of place and dropped to the ground, exposing its shrivelled brain - which soon followed suit, its upper half sliding to the ground with a wet thud.
The demon dropped dead, lobotomised by some disembodied blade, and Sparda watched from within the shadows with a grim smile as the others looked around frantically for their attacker.
This is actually quite fun.
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Post by Silver Eyes on Jun 22, 2011 22:33:11 GMT -6
Sparda knew of the rules to this lesson so Amoura felt it was unnecessary to repeat them. One thing she could always count on was his sharp memory whereas hers often collected dust on the smaller things.
Concealed, quiet and patiently waiting, she watched the demons for any signs of the Dark Knight's attacks. One of this targets had the misfortune of having his head sliced open, grotesquely so, and this caused the others to go into a state of panic. They abandoned their injured comrade and started fleeing the scene. Gang families be damned--they were getting out of here alive!
All of this was bringing her back to what felt like a lifetime ago. Ranka had taught her much of what she was passing onto Sparda. Even now, her thoughts continuously drifted to those memories, those moments, to the way it was before it was all torn apart. A state of melancholy began to settle on the distracted vampire but she shook her head.
No, now was not the time to be thinking about these things when more important matters were at hand. Amoura refocused her attention to the fleeing demons and waited for what Sparda will do.
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Post by Sparda on Jun 25, 2011 2:07:08 GMT -6
Sparda allowed himself a grim chuckle of satisfaction as the surviving demons abandoned their wounded comrade and made a break for the end of the alley, too afraid for their own lives to wish to stay in the presence of their unseen attacker.
They would be given no such reprieve.
The one at the back of the pack was promptly smashed into the wall by an enormous, skeletal hand that seemed to rise out of the darkness - and to be comprised of the shadow itself. Sparda had come to take Amoura's hints as literally as he was certain she'd meant them; with a little encouragement from the influence of his own demonic power, he appeared to have bent the very shadow to his will enough to use it as a weapon in its own right.
While the enormous black hand held its victim against the wall, countless sickening crunches echoing down the alley as it crushed the demon to death within its iron grip, another such slender hand emerged from the darkness, joined to the forearm of the first, and shot down the alley towards the fleeing demons. An anguished scream rang out as the next victim had its legs severed at the knees by a flat blade that lanced out from the shadows to its left; the beast turned around as it fell, with just enough time to scream once again before the second great hand slammed down upon it and hid it from sight.
The third and final escapee ran straight into its demise. The shadow of a dumpster near the end of the alley elongated unnaturally, spanning the narrow passageway; and as the demon ran for its life, a third disembodied hand rose from the darkness to bar the way. The creature gave a howl of dismay and tried to stop itself in vain before the shadowed hand shot forwards from the darkness, wrapped its skeletal fingers around the demon's head and squeezed.
The only survivor now was the one Amoura had shot. It cowered against the wall, terrified by the inexplicable death of its comrades and looking around frantically for any means of escape. The three black hands released their victims, each mutilated body dropping lifelessly to the ground; slowly, mockingly, they slid down the alley towards their final victim. Along the way they seemed to merge, fusing into a single mass of solid darkness that took a new form...
The demon tried to drag itself away, whimpering pathetically, as an enormous black hellhound stalked towards it. It seemed to shake the ground slightly with each stomp of its clawed feet; the curving horns on either side of its elongated head gleamed menacingly in the dim light; and the ragged wings upon its back opened and furled slightly as if in time with the monster's heavy breath.
The dismembered demon screamed one last time.
The winged hound set upon its first meal.
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