Dante vs Bayonetta
For Monty Oum
By .45 Animations
Note: I am saying even now that Dante and Bayonetta will not be at peak power. This is not a Death Battle, this is a confrontation in a story that I am writing. Think of it more as a character interaction than a fight, cutscene power to the max. This is not the final version either; it is a teaser released in mourning of Monty Oum's passing (more precisely, according to Wikipedia, the day he fell into a coma), one year ago. Be at peace, Monty – there are others carrying the flame that you have ignited, and I as a fan think they're doing a damn good job.
This story refers to some plot points in the story Genesis of the Legendary Witch that are currently unrevealed. For the purposes of this story I have done my best to veil them so that nobody gets spoiled. Things can change after all. This can be considered a draft. Now, on with the story!
Dante was relaxing in his revolving chair, his feet on his desk, as the music from his jukebox played records he had gotten from some of his musically-inclined clients. In addition to quite a bit of money, they had given him some of their recordings in vinyl, and such music it was. He nodded his head to the fast tempo of power metal. His eyes were closed, visualizing the motions he went through in a fight: the swings and thrusts of the swords, the exact way to squeeze the trigger just right to make sure that Ebony and Ivory always hit their marks, the footwork and spells needed to evade opponents and dizzy them to find openings to strike, and what Trish referred to as "the way you're going to get yourself killed one day".
He was almost drifting off to sleep, dreaming of the clash of swords, when he heard the distinctive sound of Trish's guns, the Luce and Ombra, going off not too far from his office. Dante started in his chair, alert for any possible new demon attacks, when he heard a different set of gunshots going off in the same direction. He stood up and walked to his jukebox, switching it off as he armed himself. He put on his red leather coat, harnessed his twin pistols to his back, and hung his sword on his back. Listening more carefully, he noticed the sound of a set of Derringers – four guns, almost exactly the same but for the difference in the sound that their firing chambers made. He could also make out distant voices as he made a quick pace towards the block. A grin appeared on his face – it sounded like Trish was arguing with herself for some odd reason.
The din of gunshots suddenly ended. Dante noted with his eyes growing wider that it wasn't Trish's guns that had ended the fight. He ran to the block, and as he took the last few steps, he heard the voice that wasn't quite Trish say "Stay down!"
He drew Ivory in his right hand and pointed it at the scene, locking on to a woman in black. She looked back at him and his gun pointed at her. Her eyes were wide open and Dante saw that her jaw was slacked slightly, her lips parted as he could see her rows of white teeth between her lips. For her part, she saw that Dante's pupils were so tight, like pinpricks in his irises, and he looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed in anger, which softened to surprise as he realized who it was.
"Hey! What's going on?" Dante said. He holstered his gun and took deliberate steps towards her.
"Dante, no!" Trish said, her voice struggling and hoarse. Dante looked at her. Her sunglasses blocked her expression but he saw that she clutched her stomach. She was bleeding profusely from it, her blood already pooling beside her. "Run!"
"I've run enough, Trish," he said, hoping to reassure her with a calm voice. Trish passed out, and Dante saw that her wound started to close with a golden light. He closed his eyes and turned to the woman in black. As he opened his eyes, she saw them glowing with an unearthly red light. She lowered her stance slightly, ready to spring out of the way.
"I didn't quite catch your name there, lady," he said. She was caught off-guard by how friendly his voice sounded and how his eyes burned, how like a pot of honey mixed with arsenic it was. "Oh wait, can't have another Lady. What's your name?"
"They call me Bayonetta," the woman replied. It was staring a drawn bow and arrow in the face, she mused. She could almost sense the tension he needed to keep his self-control in place, to keep the arrow from leaving the bow and striking her.
"Bayonetta, then," he said. His voice was losing the honey, revealing more of the poison. "Well then, Bayonetta, shall we dance?" he said, and Bayonetta saw him vanish. He reappeared right above her, and if she hadn't noticed that he cast a shadow on her face she would have failed to dodge in time. Time slowed for her as she moved out of the way. She shot him in the kneecaps – knowing his reputation, he would be able to regenerate, but perhaps not fast enough so that she could talk sense into him. She noticed that he was really going for the kill there – that strike he made was going to split her skull! She decided to shoot him in the feet for good measure.
Time flowed back at its normal pace, but to her surprise, he continued his attack, bringing his sword to strike at her lower right. With an accurate motion, she brought her own right heel to clash against the sword, and then fired her gun on her heel to parry the sword. Dante kept his grip on his sword with his right as he let go of it with his left, drawing Ebony in a fluid motion. He fired it once and then assumed a ready position immediately. She heard the clinks of four bullets fall against the concrete – were those the ones she fired at his legs?
Bayonetta only had a little time to be surprised after she blocked Dante's shot with her own when the sword came after her again, trying to cut into her left shoulder. She dodged backwards, hoping to activate Witch Time with the rush of evading a strike, when she saw him striking her again, as if he had suddenly brought his sword back up for a strike. She knew he couldn't possibly have swung it back to his ready stance that fast. She blocked his strike with the muzzle and fired at the blade again. The bullet made contact with the blade and made a horrible screech as it spun against the edge. The sword was suddenly gone again when it came back striking at her from the same direction. This time, she was prepared, and deflected the momentum of the strike with her left gun and shot him in the stomach with her right gun. She gave a grin in satisfaction.
It was promptly wiped off her face when she realized he held the bullet in his left hand, still spinning between his thumb and index finger. He looked her in the eye, his eyes narrowed in hatred and the corner of his mouth raised in contempt. He dropped the bullet. As it struck the ground, it gave a soft tink.
Bayonetta jumped back, trying to clear space between her and Dante. This was definitely a new opponent, one that managed to interrupt his own attacks with even more attacks. He didn't dance so much as he flurried. Dante charged closer to her with a barrage of sword slashes to confuse the enemy further – a kata of his own creation after many battles, the Dance Macabre. She couldn't approach, but at least this one was more predictable somehow. She let him approach, pretending to keep him at bay by firing her guns, and when he brought his sword back to swing like a batter at home, she took the strike head-on and dissipated into a colony of bats, rematerializing behind him, and firing several shots into his back. She kicked his legs out from under him for good measure.
Dante fell onto his hands and then rebounded back on his feet, but Bayonetta was already on him like flies on honey. She was attacking him from all angles and it was all he could do to block the bullets with his moves, because they came erratically, as if in a disjointed beat. He may have been leading in the dance before but now he was struggling to keep up – if they were doing the waltz when he was leading, this was more like Dance Dance Revolution, and an old fogey like him couldn't keep up. His human half wasn't getting any younger, and so he had to fight smart.
He blocked the individual strikes from Bayonetta pistol-whipping him with her blue guns. Royal Guard techniques allowed him to parry attacks with no damage and set up counter-attacks, but before he could return anything a bullet would often hit him from behind and stagger him. Bayonetta was ricocheting bullets on the surrounding buildings to hit him in his unguarded back. His innate regenerative abilities were going to run out if he couldn't find a way to turn the tide.
Bayonetta recognized that neither of them could engage in playful banter – she could not give up her momentum, and right now she knew she was only managing to overwhelm him simply by him being on the defensive. If she opened up a window for him to strike back, he would exploit it very easily, and his unpredictable attacks did not allow her to trigger Witch Time because he would follow it up with something so fast that she could get hit even while time was slowed for him. Normally, her strategy was to back off and let the opponent come at her first, evade, and while they overreached with their attacks she would punish them heavily. None could touch her, after all.
Bayonetta could feel that they were approaching a deadlock, and her opponent was angry and not likely to tire out sooner than she was. With every strike he made she could feel his blade getting closer and closer to her, like a snake taking its time crawling to its prey. Her battle armor made from her hair detached from her body and gave form to the fist of Madama Butterfly, who punched Dante across the street and slammed him into a building, leaving a crater on impact. She looked around and saw the collateral damage – bullet holes everywhere, broken windows, and the crater she had made. This was not a good place to fight whatsoever; there were people here. Using magic, she borrowed the wings of Malphas and flew up, keeping her guns aimed at Dante just in case.
Dante walked out of the crater, cricking his neck. "Dang, you sure know how to dance!" He looked up at the sky and saw her in the distance, flying away from him, already the size of an ant. He fired in her direction, and their bullets met in the air, fusing together into a hot ball of molten metal. "You're done already? I was just getting started!"
A flash of red lightning coursed through Dante's body, changing his form into that of a devil. He jumped after her, leaving a much larger crater where he stood as the ground failed to stand under the forced with which he pushed off it. Bayonetta was already a mile away, firing at Dante, when he caught up.
"We're not quite finished," Dante said, as he brought out his guns and pointed them at her face.
Bayonetta couldn't quite tell if his expression was one of hate and contempt or a grin of excitement through his demonic visage. "And here I thought I had tucked you in already," she said, doing the same.
"Let's rock," Dante said.
Dante spread his own wings to keep up with Bayonetta's flight. Dante moved towards Bayonetta while she kept him at bay with her bullets. Dante saw that he could not really keep up with her fine marksmanship, if it could be called that – she used her guns as melee weapons too, and the metal hurt as it hit him – so he had to get in close to striking range, while she could play keep-away with her guns.
He teleported again to go on top, and then tried to kick her in the head. He got a bullet in his foot for the attempt, but his demonic form didn't allow him to feel pain, and so he wasn't interrupted. His heel connected with Bayonetta's face – or would have, had she not used Bat Within to avoid the attack.
Dante grimaced. Trying to hit her was like trying to cut up water. It never stopped with her. Every time he thought he had her she was out of the way immediately, dodging out of the way. Even though her guns and attacks didn't really hurt, he wasn't going to be able to keep up forever.
Bayonetta was laughing on the outside, but inside she was wondering whether she could keep this up. Even with magic enhancing her skills, she couldn't keep dodging forever. She was only human. Not even the most skilled of witched could keep fighting for too long before having to retreat – and this half-demon was draining her stamina far faster than she would care to admit. She didn't even see her attacks damaging him.
When Bayonetta punched or kicked Dante, he would parry the attack and return with his own, which would in turn be dodged and he would have to parry bullets with his bare hands, having to stay in place while she retreated and he had to regain the distance lost. A battle of attrition it was. Dante may have been taking damage with every magic-reinforced bullet that he failed to block, but he was regenerating from it rapidly. Bayonetta, he noticed, was starting to breathe hard, so even if she didn't even have a scratch on her, she was going to give out soon. He noticed that his bullets were already glancing off of her suit, which meant that he was already hitting her somewhat.
Bayonetta, for her part, noticed that his sword strokes were getting a little sloppy, which made it even more dangerous to fight him. His strikes had gotten even more erratic. She could feel some of his shots hitting her, but thankfully even though his demonic power was putting more force into the shots, his guns were still of such low quality that if she were to use them, they would break in less than five minutes, much like the handguns that Rodin made for his human customers. Still, though, getting shot hurt just a little – from Dante's guns, they felt just like a punch from a five year old.
Dante had teleported again – from what she had seen, she knew that he always teleported right above and in front of her, so she prepared to get out of the way in case he tried to strike. What she did not expect was for him to step on her guns and flip himself upside-down in midair. She screamed at her body to get out of the way, but her borrowed wings from Malphas would not respond that quickly. Dante then took out his pair of guns and shot her in the back, firing like a rainstorm.
Bayonetta shut her eyes tight, expecting the pain, but none came. What she did feel was air rushing past her and her stomach's contents moving out of place. Dante had shot not her, but Malphas' wings. She cursed to herself. It would take a large offering of halos to regain Malphas' trust enough to borrow his wings again. As she fell from the sky, she took the opportunity to do her best to shoot him down as he folded his wings in and dove after her like a falcon. The last time she fell from the sky, she and Jeanne had made sure that the other survived. The fact that they were riding in on large chunks of debris from a goddess that she had punched into the sun had helped matters quite a bit.
The freefall was getting to her and the blood was rushing from her head. She knew she would survive the impact – she and Jeanne had done so before – but there was the problem of the half-demon, who would probably kill her before she fell to the ground. She consoled herself with the knowledge that Jeanne would definitely go to Hell herself and pull her out, just as she had done for her. She opened her eyes one last time. The Devil Hunter, still in demon form, had his white gun pointed straight at her face. She closed her eyes, and the gunshot was the last thing she heard.
…
Bayonetta woke up on a soft bed, covered with a white sheet and nothing else. On a chair beside her sat Jeanne. She had cut her hair so that it reached her shoulders, and she didn't have lipstick on. It was also the first time she had seen Jeanne wearing black leather, which put a smile on her face. A bright red jewel dangled from her necklace, sitting on her chest.
"Jeanne, is that you?" she said. Her voice was weak and her body felt heavy, like she was encased in lead. Having to bust through the coffin was easier than this. Jeanne did say that she wouldn't be caught wearing black leather. "I don't recall Inferno looking like this."
"First of all," Jeanne said with Bayonetta's voice, "you're not in Hell, and secondly, I didn't think that you actually needed your glasses." Jeanne reached for Bayonetta's bedside table and got her glasses beside her guns, examining them. "These don't have a grade. Fashion accessory, eh?"
"Give those back," Bayonetta said. Jeanne complied. Bayonetta rubbed her eyes to wipe away the sleep, and then put on her glasses. When she looked again, it was not Jeanne, but that blonde woman in the tacky black outfit she had tried to stop the other day. The woman reached into her pocket, pulled out a pair of sunglasses, and put them on in a fluid motion that Bayonetta knew had to have been practiced over and over again.
"So, how are you?" the woman said in a different voice. "You did quite a number on Dante, I must say."
"And without a scratch too, I might add," she replied.
The woman smiled. "Yes, he certainly has a lot to learn." The woman took out another object from her pockets. She held it with two fingers as lightly as possible, like she was trying to touch it with as little skin as possible. Bayonetta's eyes widened when she saw the ethereal, deep blue card with golden lines.
"What did you do?"
"I took care of it," the woman said. When Bayonetta attempted to get out of bed and strangle her, she quickly added, "No, not 'took care of it'," she mimed a gun to the head, "but we had a nice talk over a cup of tea."
"Do tell me if you're going to go after him," Bayonetta said. "I don't appreciate my friends getting killed." Her voice still carried the promise of gunpowder and blood – the veiled threat was not at all diminished by the fact that Bayonetta was weakened and bedridden at the moment.
"I wouldn't dream of it," was the reply. "I can't move as well as I could back in the day." The woman kicked her feet onto the bed. "Besides, there is no longer a reason to hunt him down. I've changed targets." She lowered her sunglasses a little, and looked Bayonetta straight in the eye. Bayonetta did not flinch at the sight of those glowing, blood red eyes. "I'm going after the fool who killed your father."
Bayonetta tried to sit up in alarm but her body was still too weak to do so. The woman gave a soft laugh. "No, Bayonetta, I do not pertain to you, even though you did technically kill him. You must be a little slow at the moment. I mean the other."
And Bayonetta understood, though she knew it was impossible. "No, Jeanne and I took care of him already."
"His soul still lives and I will see it brought to justice," the woman quickly replied. "I can't believe I missed it all those years ago."
"Hm?"
"It doesn't truly concern you," the woman replied. "If we meet again I hope it is not by crossing swords."
"Just to be clear," Bayonetta said, struggling and succeeding in sitting up, "if our paths cross and I have to kill you, I will." The white sheet slid off of her nude body, but she didn't notice as she was used to being naked all the time.
"Fair's fair, Cereza," the woman said, and took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were hazel now, not glowing blood red. "Now if you'll excuse me I have to attend to Dante." She walked over to the other side of the bed.
If she was surprised at the woman knowing her real name, she was more surprised to discover that she had completely failed to notice that Dante lay beside her, sleeping like a log. The woman pulled him off the bed and he fell onto the ground with a hard but muffled thud.
"Ow!" Dante said. He sat up on the ground, rubbing his head. "Trish, I thought we agreed that you weren't ever going to wake me up like that again."
"Yes," the woman apparently named Trish said, "but I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."
"What are you talking about?" Dante said. "Wait, this isn't our room. Where are we – oh!" he said. "Oh."
"Like what you see, boy?" Bayonetta said. She was still naked and beckoning at Dante to come closer. She gave a low giggle. "Want another round?"
"I'm ready to go," Dante said, but Trish nudged him.
"Dante," Trish said, "while you were out for a whole day I had to take care of a dozen callers, all with the password. Let's go."
"Hey, tough luck," Dante said. "Catch you later, Bayonetta."
"I'm sure you'll be chasing right after me then, Cheshire," she replied. Bayonetta got up from the bed and used her magic to clothe herself with her hair.
"If only to make you remember the name – it's Dante." Dante walked out the door, followed by Trish, leaving Bayonetta in the room. She picked up her guns on top of the table, stepped into Purgatorio with a smile, and vanished as well.
AN: I know this is a draft and it will be improved in the future, with more detail that can be put in. This one fought me all the way because I wanted to put so much in, but I couldn't for fear of spoiling some things. In fact, you could probably pick up on some hints in here. With that said, I'd like to update you on the situation with the books. I still have no way of acquiring them. Do not worry – Genesis of the Legendary Witch will continue. I have some chapters that are very unlikely to violate canon lined up, waiting to be committed to Word. Thank you for your dedication. Please leave a review if you would – it helps a lot.
