This is a no-kill zone!

Seriously. I know DMC fanboys are up in arms about the reboot at the moment, but I'm just satisfying a bunny! Nobody attack me please!

This is based on the new DMC 'reboot' prequel trailer. You have been warned.

I own a couple of the DMC games, but could never get into them – ironically, Dante was just too.. Western for me. Too butchy. Part of it was just the graphics of the time – I'd been spoiled by better – and I need a pretty game in order to spend much time fighting so...

DMC has me really excited. I'd hoped that this guy was a descendant or something, but a young Dante isn't so bad.

As to his different looks, well... he's a juvenile, right? I'm sure he'll grow into that white hair and chunky body, don't you worry! :D

Characterisation: BE WARNED! As much as I'd like to claim the reboot as my excuse to make him OOC the simple fact is that my time playing this game is loooooong in the past. I just don't remember much about him. But, I figure, teenage punks are teenage punks no matter what species – please forgive me if he is radically different than you'd expect and if you don't like it either just click the X button or recc me something better!

Edited: swum/swam. Cheers, BlueC!

Teaser Trailer: Escape

Subject: 64432B

Psycho-evaluation treatment. Day 14.

Begin.

Dante twitched when the door opened behind him. Every day they'd file in where he couldn't see. The flickering lights and black glass denied him even their reflections.

Every session was a little different.

Sometimes they beat him – with lengths of wood one day, with iron bars the next. Once they pulled his head back and taped his mouth closed, suffocating him with a simple, cruel press of their fingers against his nose. Even hours of that wasn't as bad as the day they'd wedged something between his teeth to keep his jaw open, then poured jug after jug of water down his throat. The animal need to survive had him writhing, swallowing, choking. His face had been wet with more than water by the end of it, but he didn't think the bastards had noticed.

If they had, they might have rethought their 'different tactic every day' plan.

The tasers had been bad. Not quite as bad as the water, but close. His body could shake the shocks off faster than normal people, but that just meant they could hit him more – and they did. Over and over until he couldn't even think let alone stand, and had hung by his wrists insensate as the bastard behind the mirror questioned him, spoke to him, promised him.

The lack of food was wearing on him, more than they'd seemed to anticipate. He wasn't as weak as they wanted – not yet – but he was close.

Too close.

Whoever it was behind him – three people, he guessed – couldn't be as bad as that one guy with the knife, or that bitch with the lighter. Or that time with the gas.

They couldn't be. Because he didn't know if he could...

"Subject 64421. You have been briefed. Proceed."

Dante's eyes slid to the side. His arms and shoulders were a mess of pain, even if his legs could support his weight he wouldn't be able to turn around, but...

Another juvie?

Another guy like him?

Footsteps. One heavy pair moved to the chair and sat down. One lighter set moved closer to him – definitely a juvie. If there was a third guy like he'd thought, he wasn't moving.

There was nothing he could do except wait for it to start, so he waited.

His own breath rasped in the near-silent room, not quite masked by the buzzing, flickering lights. He felt more than heard the other kid stop behind him. There was a slight pause and Dante had to force himself not to flinch in anticipation.

Then, breath, soft on the back of his neck. Icy, trembling fingers slid around his waist from behind, so low that one pinky brushed his exposed skin.

He had just enough time for one panicked, furious assumption before those icy fingers burned and something not-quite-invisible scythed out from his sides and sliced into the window before him with a deafening boom.

Shouts and screams added to the din of falling masonry and Dante grinned ferally even as his own waist wept blood from eight little slashes. He could smell their deaths from here, could see someone's artery spurting frantically, futilely.

There was the sound of one of their 'correctional' weapons powering up and the juvie surged forwards, ducking under Dante's outstretched arm and turning to use him as a living shield.

"Fucking great..." He muttered, more than half of it lost to parched vocal chords. He glared viciously at the little shit – never mind the awesomeness of what he'd just done – but the kid didn't look back at him. His yellow-green eyes were fixed over Dante's swollen shoulder, his fingers slipping in Dante's blood to find new purchase.

The sound of the weapon discharging was swallowed in another sonic boom. Dante arched helplessly as the over-powered taser-like weapon bit into his back and filled him full of voltage meant to put him down.

It did.

Moments - maybe minutes – later, his vision swam back enough to see the other juvie hop out of the section behind the mirror and stumble, legs buckling under him.

The kid wobbled forward and pitched down at his feet.

Dante resisted the urge to spit. That wouldn't do much for his chances of getting out.

The other kid's hand wrapped around his ankle and Dante snarled silently. A wet-sounding cough preceded a short, shaky laugh. Then yellow-green eyes were lifted up to fucking leer at him.

He tried to kill the kid through sheer will alone.

The kid laughed again, the sound degenerating into more coughs that ended with a spray of black blood over Dante's boot and spattered half his leg.

The hand on his ankle clenched tightly as the other lifted to his knee, gripped and pulled. Dante bit back a strangled sound as the unexpected weight tore at his shoulders. The first hand released him, lifted, sunk into his thigh and pulled again. In this way, the visibly trembling boy got back to his feet and then had the audacity to smirk at him.

"Need a hand?"

Dante sneered. "Two's better odds than one." He replied, not bothering to share that his plan of escape consisted of sneaking out whilst this stupid kid made all the noise and got caught.

The kid's smirk just widened into a grin, as though he knew exactly what he was thinking. He looked up at the chains and Dante realised, for the first time, that the kid was half a head shorter than him.

"...If you c'n even reach." He drawled mockingly, more to provoke the kid into trying than to insult him. The last thing he needed was to be left here, chained, when the bodies were found. He didn't know why there weren't already people kicking in the door.

Inhuman eyes glared at him before an arm wrapped around his neck – and pulled.

He hissed the vilest curse word he knew before he twigged that the kid was using him as a climbing frame to reach his wrists. Still, as his shoulders screamed from the abuse and his arms threatened to pop right the fuck out, he didn't hold back in bitching out the little shit causing it.

The little shit fuckin' laughed.

One arm fell free with unexpected suddenness, dropping both their weights onto his other arm and swinging them both as his feet scrambled to keep up with the program. His free arm hung limp, blood rushing painfully back into it. He set his shaky feet, gritted his teeth and glared at the other juvie, who got the hint. A long moment of more pain and then both wrists were free. He staggered back into the wall, leaning his weight against it as his body shook and fought to recover.

"You gotta plan?" He ground out, shaking his arms as pain grudgingly gave way to function.

The other boy shrugged. A flash of teeth, white and not-quite-right. "Kill as many as I can before my body craps out on me. Maybe trip and fall out a window onto a passing truck if I'm lucky."

Dante snorted. "Fine. You kill, I'll escape. If I see any windows, I'll be sure'n give you a shove."

He pushed off of the wall. Fought not to sway. This was as good as he was going to get.

He smiled darkly.

"Let's go."

End