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DMC OTP100
Prompt # 80 Curse
Word count: 823
Characters: Dante, Lady
Title: It's a Curse, So How Come It Doesn't Hurt?
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Excessive violence and descriptive gore, but it's only demons, so who cares? Also, as to the prompt, I'm sure anyone who's played DMC has noticed Dante has a penchant for getting stabbed…or a curse, if you want to look at it that way. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, or any of its characters.
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Dante ripped across the antechamber, grabbing onto a pole with his left hand and firing around the room with Ebony in his right hand, hitting dozens of demons as he swung around and around, like a clock's gear gone insane. His consistent spiraling motion meant that every demon was getting hit at least a couple of times per round, and the damage was visibly adding up, a few of the weaker ones already crumbling to the cold embrace of the stone floor, making it slick with sand. The wild white-haired half-demon whooped and hollered as he went on his course, giving a Cain-raising ululation as he let go after one more pass, having had his fill of the dizzying dance.
His speed propelled him through the air, directly towards an intended and unprepared victim, one of the larger demons, whose preference for a lack of armor seemed to indicate it had considerable confidence in its own tough hide. Too bad it didn't seem to factor surviving crazed half-demons into its calculations for what to wear as armor, a fact it was surely lamenting as the aforementioned half-demon's wild shot through the air brought his body slamming into its own. It might have gone better for the unfortunate demon if Dante hadn't impacted it boots first – heavy, steel-toed boots first. The impact shattered its ribcage and went on to crush its torso down to a mush of squished internal organs, completely ignoring the large demon's supposedly tough hide.
Dante would have stood upright and starting crowing about his "sticking the perfect dismount" but he was forced to stay hunched over as a young woman with a large rocket launcher chose that exact moment to back-flip over him, simultaneously rapid-firing at the demons that had doggedly pursued her from the other side of the antechamber, despite some pretty heavy losses to their numbers.
Lady had already taken out four of them, and had been working on her fifth when they'd managed to start a pincer movement around her. She had quickly back-flipped and at the top of her arch, fired Kalina Ann into the stone below, knocking the demons back and using the blast force to push herself higher, so that her ultimate leap sent her even farther out of their grasp. She had slid on some of the sand that the half-dozen demons Dante's earlier pole-action had left behind when nixed, but had used the faux-pas to her advantage, twisting her legs back under her and making the downward motion into a backward one that sent her skidding towards her partner, as she fired at the oncoming demons from her semi-automatic rifle.
The rifle's kickback had kept her sliding backwards on the sandy terrain, and when its clip was empty, she had dropped a pair of timed-release sulfur-chloride bombs onto the floors and sent them spinning away with a low sweep-kick. Off of the sand, the bi-color eyed brunette had dodged a scythe that one had coming spinning at her from where it had been blasted from its posthumous owners hands, by vaulting over her partner's hunched form. Landing on the head of the demon with the crushed torso, condemning it ultimately as its skull fragmented under her the pressure of her weight being pulled down by gravity onto it, she had fired over the young man's sword-laden back to nail her last two pursuers with her dual sub-machine guns. The two demons groaned as the line of bullets that ran from their middles up to the tip-tops of their grey skulls poured out brownish blood, leaving them nothing short of dead.
There were still five demons left, but they hesitated at the fringes of the antechamber, watching as Lady switched out one sub-machine for an automatic pistol, checking the cartridges on both with meticulous care. When she was done, she spared her partner a glance, seeing that he was still hunched over – and that he was dripping blood at a pretty good rate for a half-demon with his healing capabilities. Grunting, Dante lifted his right arm over his head, beginning to tug on something embedded in his left side. Soon enough, it popped free with a sick squelch, the wound's bleeding rapidly ebbing off as his body found it could no heal unobstructed by a mis-landed scythe.
The words were on both their tongues immediately, not "are you alright", but "it's never a job for Devil May Cry if Dante doesn't get stabbed", because the former was unnecessary and the latter was just too tempting. Grinning like lunatics, the pair shook their heads and launched into the remaining demons with no less vigor than before, shooting and blasting away at the children of the night, whose last thoughts were only a wish for a less destructive reception next time. At least they could tell their leaders the Son of Sparda could be hit, even if it hadn't hurt him in the end.