Experience
Vergil
The cold wind of this deadly height crashed against him, washing over him as he stared ahead with a cold desolate gaze unflinching.
"Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care…"
"But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in cold Hell's despair."
The cold was man's greatest fear, above all else you could not beat the cold, you could not win against it when it came for you. So, man invented fire. The first rejection of the world God had made, born from their ego and capacity for growth.
And then humans feared beasts, creatures with thicker hides, stronger arms, faster legs. So they made tools and weapons to fight them, another usurping of the natural order was at hand. Homo-sapiens with their ability to grow; became men.
And then humans feared other humans, mindlessly fighting with another over a sense of strength, power and material complication… So they created society. Farming, monarchy, villages, whatever style and whatever way they decreed.
Constantly growing, constantly evolving. That is what it means to be human, and yet…
Humanity is always fated to struggle, to be at the whims of fate without true power. That is why they modify their bodies with machinery, why they cling to life so desperately in an attempt to escape God.
But they will never be able to match the demons that lurk beneath their world.
Vergil was one of them.
Standing atop Arasaka tower, his deadly and calculating glare leveled against the skyline of the city as he stood on the edge. He held the Yamato in one hand, a katana forged from the strongest devil who ever lived. Vergil wore a dark black short sleeved jacket with cyan lights and a symbol for a demon on his back, tattoos ran down his left and right arm depicting a bird with feathers black as night and a panther whose fur was Shadow itself.
He was Vergil, Devil of Arasaka.
His silver hair flourished in the wind as a helicopter flew overhead, "To struggle for power… To constantly grasp it." He glanced down towards his hand, a silver amulet with a red jewel in the center. He clutched his fingers around the amulet, putting it away and hardening his gaze.
The helicopter landed behind him, the rotors dying down and leaving nothing but the silence of the wind. Of course it was only momentary.
Stepping out of the helicopter with a permanent frown on his face, Arthur Jenkins was in a mood. Vergil could almost feel his scalding glare aimed at the back of his head, nothing new for the tactless Corpo.
'A fool.'
Arthur
Stopping a few meters away from the white-haired devil, Arthur lets his presence settle before making any moves. Breathing in, he shuts his eyes and presses his thumbs against his forehead in a prayer.
Tackling this would be tough, Vergil wasn't the most approachable Arasaka employee, if you could even call him that. If anything, he employed Arasaka. Not even the Emperor drew his ire.
'Could one man really be that feared?' It seemed absurd to the chief of counterintelligence.
Smiling, he laughed to himself and strolled casually over to the imposing devil. "Vergil, oh Vergil. What happened man?" He asked as he took a stand next to him, Vergil stood half a head higher.
No response, just a calculated glare into nothing, as if the wind was more important than his hit. He already felt uneasy.
Arthur let his smile fall away, his implants flaring to life as he sighed. "I gave you the money up front, I even promised you my support." He paced behind him, using his body language in a myriad of ways to convey his true frustration.
Stopping, he came up right next to his ear. "So why, why why… Why… Do I find that Abernathy is not flatlined ?" He whispered with trite laugh, tilting his head to emphasize the question that much more.
No response. Vergil was still like a rock. Always acting superior, it pissed him off. He was just a tool, just a damn… Pawn!
Arthur pressed his thumbs and rolled the skin on his temple, "… I'm approaching this wrong aren't I? What do you want? Women? Coke?" He mindlessly listed, eying his katana.
He hummed thoughtfully, "I bet I could get you a fancy sword that blows that old relic out the water. Come on, give me something to work wit-" Vergil squeezed the Yamato tightly and flicked the guard, the steel blade barely revealing itself.
A threat.
Arthur stared scathingly at his sword for a second longer before sighing and nodding to his agents, turning back towards the helicopter. No use, getting someone like him to budge wasn't possible. He was a damned fool for trying. Vergil was always doing as he pleased according to the reports, even when he first arrived in Night City.
Not a single person could stand up to him. 'Heh, fat chance. Get Smasher on his ass and see how fast he gets his purebred ass rocked.' The thought was tantalizing, even with his skill and the sword he carried there was no way he could stand up to the cybernetic menace.
He was no Adam Smasher, so he took his loss in stride. Vergil was an Arasaka, just pretend like this never happened and ignore him like all the higher ups do anyway.
He scoffed, eying his agents who oddly, took a step back from him. 'I'm not an idiot, I'll just find another hitman to take down that bitch Abernathy-' Were his thoughts before a shimmering silver blade ran through his chest.
He couldn't even scream.
Skin turning pale white, Arthur gasped for a breath that would never come while a fountain of viscera exited his open wound. The Yamato retracted and Arthur fell to his knees, keeling over with a hand against his wound as his vision faded.
Titling his head in disgust, Vergil spoke as if he was witnessing the most disgusting event. "Foolishness, you think because you have a semblance of power that you're invincible?" He held the Yamato and flicked the blood from it before sheathing it in one swift motion.
His eyes bugged out, wondering what was happening, 'Why…'
Crossing his arms, Vergil turned towards the skyline once more and ignored the sound of the gurgling welp. "Your drive is lacking, you are of no use to me and neither is your political drivel." He had no interest in the superficial demands of the agents and employees of Arasaka.
He turned and eyed the inner machinations of his body, sparks arcing inside the gaping wound. "Just like all who wield that shortcut to power, where's your motivation? You gave up at the first sign of conflict, there are many with greater wills than you who suffer while you leech and play games behind closed doors." He scoffed.
It sullied the very nature of power, the endless struggle to acquire one's zenith. Sullied by suckling at the teet of whoever would look your way, using others to get your dirty work done behind the guise of a corporate cover up.
How it boiled his blood.
He whispered the last part, his eyes narrowed and his lips imperceptibly thin. "You don't deserve your power, Abernathy has made that clear enough."
Power born from parasitism and unnatural technology. Such shortcuts were beneath him, no matter how many times Arasaka had tried to give him implants he would never agree out of principle.
He eyed the agents who stood by the helicopter still, "Just a struggler who knows not why he struggles, pathetic." Arthur's men nodded at him.
...
He watched his agents go, they hadn't even looked twice at him after the devil shoved that sword into his ribcage. Black spots were appearing in his vision now, 'Damnit! This isn't how I was supposed to go out!' He thought Internally as he lay lifeless, his last thoughts of that bitch…
Abernathy was always one step ahead of him, always. His agents left him to rot, all the while he felt his lungs fill with blood.
All at the mercy of the Devil, the Devil of Arasaka.
The Devil wasn't human, people like him… They just weren't able to match that. He was invincible, untouchable. It was an insult that he even approached him like this, such a being as Vergil. He was no tool to be paraded around.
He only had one goal.
Vergil eyed the city, here he was feared, here he was powerful, here he would never lose… And his last living relative would be arriving soon. The last part of his innocence.
'He will not die.'
Vergil gave a rare smile as the Amulet on his chest shimmered slightly, "It's been a while…"
"Dante."
Innocence
Dante
Now this was a city. Everywhere how crystal blue eyes looked, something was happening, a fight between two cyber freaks trying to see who is less human, a crime scene with the police stuffing donuts in their face from the safety of their car. He could hear all of it, smell it as well… Not the most pleasant stench but at least it wasn't a nomad camp. No, this was his city. His cocky grin only grew louder, hardly subtle.
But Night city wasn't known for being subtle.
A woman ejected from an alleyway nearby and tumbled to his feet, "Quiero tu culo señora !" Cried another man with his voice modulated like a text to speech program. His face was entirely cybernetic with dozens of red eyes, heavily armed too.
'I just got here and ladies are already at my feet? Wow.'
Dante snickered, stepping over the woman and continuing his way forward with the package in hand. It wasn't his problem. Only if they made it his problem, as it tended to go. Usually it would just end up with more blood being shed if he intervened.
He could sense the eyes on him, but no one approached him despite his lack of chrome. Afraid of a little organic huh?
'Especially with all these chrome domes, you think they'd be on my ass.'
These people were machines more than they were people physically, that made him think; what would they do when they realized he had no implants? He'd love to see them try and top him, chrome or not, the real deal was superior. Standing at 193 centimeters or 6'4, he towered over most Night Citizens.
'Do I hear music? This day keeps getting better!'
Naturally being drawn to the sound of music and not exactly sobor celebration, his legs quickly took him towards the source.
Whistling, Dante watched from afar as a weirdo with longer arms than most used them to breakdance in front of a crowd. It wasn't stylish at all, Dante had to resist the urge to throw up at the lack of skill being displayed.
It almost made him want to go over and show them what real break dancing looked like. He eyed the blazing neon sign ahead of the establishment.
'Turbo's bar…'
He caught a few dainty pink haired women giggling at him from a table, he flashed them a half-smirk and flaunted his way over. 'Maybe I will after all, this package ain't going nowhere.' He slid over smoothly and propped himself up against a counter.
He flashed his pearly whites, "What's goin' on tonight ladies?" A few laughed at him while the more experienced girls just rolled their eyes.
A Japanese girl narrowed her eyes at him, noticing his state of dress and white hair. "What are you, some Vergil of Arasaka wannabe? No chrome?"
He wagged his finger and grinned smugly, "No need, I'm the real deal, 100% flesh and blood." He then eyed his surroundings until he saw that weirdo from earlier trying to balance a beer bottle on his head while he performed like a monkey at a circus.
"Right, poor boy won't last a day."
Grinning even wider, Dante cockily tilted his head and pointed to the weirdo. "I'll bet you a drink that I can take that bottle out from here with my eyes closed." He said, propping up his elbow against the counter and raising his eyebrows suggestively.
The woman was not impressed, "Are you even old enough to drink?" She then smiled, amused at his cockiness. "No matter, go ahead, try. Pilar is asshole."
Dante placed the package down on the counter and without looking away from her, took out ebony and shut his eyes before pulling the trigger.
Crack!
He heard cries of shock from the neon clandestine girls in front of him, he raised one eye open and chortled at her slightly impressed expression. "No need for chrome, I'm the best shot in this city." He said without a hint of doubt, holstering ebony and reveling in the attention.
The woman raised her hands in defeat, "Okay I admit, you are talented, but it won't be me you're buying a drink for now." She giggled at Dante as he pressed up against the counter in bliss.
Only for a mechanical hand to grab him by the jacket and reign him up into the sky, "The fuck was that choom, you tryna start something? Chromeless bitch!" A visored glare, his tongue was lashing out of the attackers mouth as if he was a rabid animal.
His hair was soaked with alcohol, Dante groaned at the scent. "This is my turf, but if you jack me off a little maybe I'll let you stay in one fucking piece eh?" He laughed like a psycho, giggling like a dumbass over his own threat.
The first thing Dante realized, 'His breath stinks…' For one, the second thing he realized was-
Grabbing his mechanical arms, Dante laughed in his face as he slowly peeled his hands off his person much to the muted shock of the monkey wannabe. "C'mon choom , I can see you like these little arms of yours so it would be a shame if someone!-"
In an instant, the mechanical cyberware exploded into parts and pieces beneath Dante's vice grip. The shards flew into the air and Dante merely smirked at the destruction, resisting the urge to clock the stunned moron in the face.
Dante unclenched his hands, letting wires and scrap fall to the ground. "If someone did that, for example."
The entire bar went silent, the golden parts and pieces from the weirdo's arms were littered all throughout. The chrome junkie's lips quivered, and he stepped away, "The fuck… Those were my favorite arms you bitch!" He screamed, armless.
He cackled and pointed at the man, clapping. "Like a headless chicken!" The rest of the bar attendees began to laugh with him while the cyber freak growled in annoyance.
Leveraging a stream of curses at the Devil hunter, Dante raised a hand to his ears and hummed, nodding. "Yep, sounds like you got your ass kicked by me." He shooed him off.
Giving the monkey a little push, the weirdo backed off and Dante waved him off. "Go along and dance for me little monkey, dance." The man was a few inches shorter than him so he had to look up to glare at him, especially with his arched back.
The man growled and turned his back on Dante, barking at anyone who got in his way as he left. People like that always tried to talk shit until they met a bigger and meaner bastard than themselves. But enough of that, he was owed a drink.
He hummed to himself and shrugged, "Hey barkeep, a drink please! This one's on her!" He gestured to the Asian woman who scoffed.
"No, It's on me!" A slight raspy voice came from below, an unfamiliar-cheery tone.
A small hand brushed against his left and sent a jolt of electricity through his body, Dante stayed cool however with his eyes remaining on the barkeep.
And that's when he saw her.
Standing at around five foot nothing, a young woman with a revealing outfit slid over next to him and whirled around on a stool before flashing him a grin and a wink. Her hair was as white as his and her eyes… Her eyes were a psychedelic mixture of several colors that blurred in his vision with the heavy strobe lights blaring above.
But above all else, she was tiny. Compared to him at least.
Dante blinked, his demeanor changing only slightly as he focused on her and only her. "Well well, is my luck great tonight or what?" He whistled while accepting the bear from the barkeep.
The girl leaned back like him and laughed, "I feel pretty lucky myself, that creep you fucked up was my loser big bro." The way she said 'big bro' told him all that he needed to know.
Dante groaned and waved his hands in the air, "Tell me about it, big brothers are a pain in the ass!" Flashes of Vergil's stoic immovable expression, he rolled his eyes.
The girl laughed and elbowed him, "You too? Man, you and I will get along just fine, eh, ganic?" She downed her own drink in one sitting, jugging it down with her head reared.
Dante watched her throat bob while she drank, her skin was paler than any skin should be but the various tattoos across her body told him just what type of person she was.
A wildfire, just like him.
She didn't even come up to his shoulders, but in a way, she had the same type of presence to her. She raised her glass to him, "I'm Rebecca." Her smile was dazzling, Dante nodded and stared at the dancing.
Truth be told, her smile was strangely hypnotic. "Rebecca huh?"
"Don't call it generic." She grumbled.
"Where I'm from, it's exotic." He lied.
She hummed thoughtfully, "Hehe Is that so? You must be from the moon if you don't have any chrome on ya. How the hell did you shoot that well from there…?" She trailed off, tilting her head and eying the sword on his back.
Stars sparkled in her eyes, she tried to get a better look at the weapon. "A sword too? Holy shit!" Peaking over his shoulder with her height was proving difficult.
He swallowed, he needed to introduce himself… 'A new life, a new beginning huh… Mom.' He smiled, shutting his eyes and laughing at the memory before shifting and turning his head.
Tony Redgrave wasn't his real name.
He caught her gaze, caught her lips. "Name's Dante, I'm from Redgrave."
"Wuzzat?" She shakily replied before downing her third bottle.
Dante shrugged, "It's not around anymore."
"Damn choom, sounds rough." She slurred slightly, her relaxation evident. She rapidly slapped him on the shoulder, "Don't worry though, I'm sure you'll fit right in with them shooting skills!" She cackled mindlessly, pointing at her brother getting a replacement for his arms.
He would've laughed with her, only to hear the barkeep say something interesting. "It ain't everyday one of Maine's crew gets his ass kicked."
He blinked, the alcohol had the opposite effect, and his reaction was far more muted. "Maine you say? Well, well it just so happens that I have a little something for him." He reached for the package and flicked it into the air, juggling it up and down.
The barkeep, Turbo, looked shocked. "Shit choom you tryna get Maelstrom on your ass walking around with chrome like that?" Dante waved him off, unholstering ebony and spinning her on his finger.
His shit eating grin was infectious, "These aren't just for show, and I have one heck of a trigger finger pal."
The girl Rebecca was blinking repeatedly, "Wai' thas for Maine?" She slurred, rearing her head back and downing another bottle. Her eyes narrowed, "Also I got you tha one on me so you better finish it slowpoke!"
She knew Maine? Must be a big name in this city. He eyed his bottle, shrugging and downing it one go.
In that case…
Still parched, "Another, put it on Maine's tab." He grabbed the air to gesture for another.
Turbo wearily looked away before rubbing the back of his head, "Choom, listen, this is Maine we are talking about, you catch? You think he will just let you-"
Dante yawned and interrupted him, "He can keep the Eddie's for this baby then, I don't give a crap." He spun the package on his finger.
Truth was, money was no issue. He could do any assortment of jobs better than anyone else within a fraction of the time and get paid for it, money wasn't something that would make him happy. Not really. He wanted to hunt demons and maybe get paid while doing it, that's it.
'Don't forget to beat that arrogant asshole, Vergil.'
The more jobs he did the more reputation he'd gain and the more potential demons he'd be able to hunt down, cyber psychos were common in Night City which meant… Demons were as well.
Dante watched as the party died down, on another night he'd be out there on the floor dancing but for now… He was just glad to be in Night City. The box in his hand was a testament to that beginning, and Maine was apparently a big deal if word on the street was anything to go by.
Perfect.
Suddenly Rebecca sobered at the sight of a little man running onto the scene and catching his breath. "Hey David!" She yelled and waved at him, he quickly came over and collapsed against a stool next to Rebecca.
He was huffing and wearing a running get up, "Damn! You look tired choom!" Rebecca flicked his arm, her playfulness was not reciprocated.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead before accepting a drink from Rebecca, "Try keeping up with Lucy, shit's not easy." He said before downing it on one go, breathing out roughly as he tore the bottle away and put in on the table.
Gratitude was written all across his tan face, "Thanks, Becca." He collapsed into his seat fully and let his heart rate finally settle, he had a high fade with his hair styled up and out.
She gave him a thumbs up, "No worries my man! You're one of us now, one of Maine's crew!"
That Interested him, Dante straightened up and eyed the two with a small smirk. "You two are Maine's crew too? It really is my lucky night." He caught eyes with the young dude, David if he remembered.
Glaring at him, the Latino straightened up. "Yeah? What's it to you?" He then nudged Rebecca, "Who's this ganic, Becca, he bothering you?"
She waved him off with a huge grin, "Nope! But it's adorable that you really do care, dimples!" She laughed at his flush, repeatedly pushing him and calling him easy.
He scratched the back of his head, mumbling. "Well, you did help me with all that gun training…"
Dante snickered at that, raising a brow. "You guys still need to train, even with that fancy… Tech of yours?"
David stopped flushing and narrowed his eyes again, "You sound like someone who's lost choom, the hell type of question is that?"
Dante resisted the urge to roll his eyes, 'Talk about a bruised ego.' The kid clearly had a chip on his shoulder, a damaged ego was a bad combination. He knew just where to strike with a bruised ego.
Tilting his head, his fangs revealed themselves. " You sound like someone who can't keep up with his girl, or was the huffing and puffing just for show so you could get a free drink?" His eyes lit up in satisfaction as David lit up in anger, Rebecca tried to cover her mouth and restrain her laughter.
The Latino jumped up to his feet and pointed a finger at him, "You tryna start shit? You don't wanna mess with Maine's crew, trust me, choom." The barkeep whistled, sighing and quietly removing the glasses from his counter.
Dante didn't move an inch initially, staying cool and eying the slightly younger male from his position. Yawning, he slowly stood up to his full height. A small part of him felt like laughing after seeing David shrink away a little, clearly the kid was compensating for something. He stood nearly a full head above him.
His voice was as laid-back as he could make it, "Listen, choom . The last schmuck in Maine's crew who tried to mess with me walked away armless, you sure you're barking up the right tree?" Dante raised a brow, smirking down at David while he tried to stop shaking.
He clenched his fist, his lips quivering. "Y-you're more stupid than you look if you think I'd believe a ganic did that. You don't have a lick of chrome on you!" David began to smile, more so to assure himself than anything Dante thought.
Rebecca rolled her eyes, "Men."
Taking a step forward, Dante arched his back to make himself loom. His face was shadowed by his long white hair, "How about a demonstration?" He whispered mere inches away from David's face.
The tension between them was thick, Dante was laughing his ass off on the inside but kept it cool. He wasn't going to keep a low profile with these people, he wanted to let them know just who they were dealing with. Not just a civvie.
David didn't back down impressively, he had some spunk to him. "You ever heard of a Sandy?"
Dante blinked once, "A what."
Time slowed to a crawl, Dante watched as David's eyes suddenly flashed a different color and he began reaching for his pistol at normal speed only for Dante to have already pressed Ebony to his chin. The electricity in his eyes faded away and a small trickle of blood ran down from his nose.
He palmed his forehead, laughing. "That's your 'Sandy?' a nosebleed?" He had David in a proverbial rear naked choke, he almost felt bad.
David was too stunned to speak properly with the barrel sticking up against his jaw, "H-how the f-fuck…"
Dante merely hummed and smiled at the young Latino, "Talent makes up for some fancy tech, don't you think?"
David sputtered, his eyes trembling. "Not human-"
Click
Dante felt another pistol against his ribcage, Rebecca was snarling at him. "I like you Ganic, but Davey here is a little friend of mine, so back off!" She growled like a small puppy, her formerly cheerful expression souring as her pistol repeatedly jabbed into his torso.
The annoying jabbing feeling aside, Dante felt like daring her to pull the trigger. "Hey, I'm just defending my pride as a man." He took a step back with his hands raised, leisurely falling back and taking a seat once more.
It wasn't unusual for him to bark up the local tough guy tree, establish the status quo early so nobody takes you by surprise and tries to one up you. That's a rule Dante always worked by, he was always top dog.
Rebecca and David shared eye contact, confusion lacing their gaze before Rebecca began to laugh her ass off. "Dimples dimples dimples, what did we say about barking up the wrong tree huh?" She repeatedly punched his shoulder, the kid was still shook from having a barrel against his jaw.
Dante hummed thoughtfully, placing Ebony on the table. "He's got some spunk to him, most people back off." He admitted, even with him being organic most people backed down after he flexed his presence.
Scoffing with a slight flush, David looked away and took a seat a few stools away. Turbo was quick to leave them behind, only him and Rebecca remained.
She sprawled over the bar top and sighed, "So, what the fuck was that?"
Dante played innocent, "What was what?"
She tried to find the words, lips pursed. "You… You just outpaced a fucking Sandy, Dante, you sure you're ganic?" She was being serious now, the crazed light in her eyes fading away.
He shrugged and reached for ivory, "I'm just built different." Was his simple response, he swore he saw David flinch in the corner of his vision.
'Must be listening to us with that fancy tech of his.' Dante smirked, he could work with this.
Bianca then eyed his guns, sparkling. "Are those… Colt 1911s? No, too big. Choom, what the hell kind of monster made these for you?!" She got giddy, completely forgetting her questions from before.
He explained how the two pistols he carried were a gift from an incredible woman, a gunsmith, the 45. Caliber Virtuoso. A name instantly recognized by the girl sitting next to him, "You're shitting me, she made your guns? Nova…" She said in awe, reaching for ebony and putting her hand over it only for Dante to cover hers.
Staring at her with a heavy gaze, Dante shook his head slightly and she nodded before removing her hand from beneath his. "Fine girls you have there, color me impressed."
Dante raised a brow, making a half grin. "You're colored white as snow though."
Rebecca deadpanned, "... Okay, it's adorable that you're trying so hard but dial it back." She stated bluntly, her usual tone of voice being replaced by a monotone one.
Dante feigned being wounded, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "I thought you liked my jokes." Her smile came back, and she flashed her teeth at him.
Her eyes flashed and she pointed a finger gun at him, "There's an art to it, I can just feel when a joke doesn't land you know? Shitalking is an art, don't forget it."
Ah, his type of person then. Someone he had to try to make laugh, she wouldn't laugh at anything he said like usual just to make him feel himself over a shitty joke. He respected that.
He let his guard down completely, "We got a vulgar connoisseur over here." Dante grinned with a snicker, a red dot lining up on his chest much to the horror of Rebecca.
"Fuc-"
Bang!
A bullet tore through the air, bursting into his chest and blowing a hole through his body as he went flying. Crashing against a street post nearby, a woman screamed at the sight of his mangled body leaned up against the post. She raised her phone to her face to call the police.
Dante coughed, his eyes blazing red. The woman screamed only to go silent as Dante raised a hand, making a zipper motion over his mouth before grabbing the pole and pulling himself up.
His chest was stitching back together, his bones snapping back into place as the wound slowly but surely disappeared.
Dante wasn't happy about a hole being blown through his jacket. "Everyone on their period today or what?" He asked the bar as he made his way back, swathing through his own blood as people screamed at the sight of his reanimated corpse.
"The hell…"
His face and body were stained with blood, white hair crimson red. He eyed Rebecca who was taking another drink from her bottle without a care in the world, the Latino kid next to her was freaking out however. He was definitely going to kick whosoever ass did that-
A thud, two boots slammed against the ground ahead of him. A brolic figure who stood nearly a head taller than him, the giant of a man tossed a giant scoped hand cannon to Rebecca. His body was rippling with chrome and implants of all kinds and he wore a slick pair of shades, his hair was blonde and his skin was even darker than David's.
His deep exotic baritone silenced all murmurs, "Now now what do we have here? Another punk with a deathwish?" He narrowed his eyes behind those shades, cracking his knuckles and neck.
The two men walked towards each other with a heavy gait, "Whatever type of chrome lets you take a hit like that, know that I got more where that came from ya dig?" He eyed Dante only to realize…
The organic smirked, raising a silver brow. "I'm just built different." He then cracked his own knuckles, and his neck before snapping into a bouncy fighting stance and taunting the much larger man.
Rebecca's jaw dropped, as did David's. "How the fuck did he survive that?" They both chorused, watching with bated anticipation as the newcomer squared up against Maine.
It was simply unheard of.
Lightning danced between their eyes as they glared at each other, Dante was still smirking. "You're a big guy, you got all that muscle yourself or did you have someone nail it on to mend your insecurity?" He snapped, voice containing a deadly edge.
Maine Tsked, shades lowering and revealing his beady eyes only slightly. "You tryna get your ass plastered again, newbie?" He jutted his chest out, flexing.
Dante watched him, their heads smashing together as they glared eachother down. "You're just lucky I'm in a good mood, otherwise I'd be a rich man from selling all that scrap on your corpse, choom."
Pushing against each other to gain dominance, the most keen of onlookers would've seen Maine inch back slightly. A silence welcomed them as the two men stared each other down, a slight sweat running down Maine's brow as he swallowed and hummed thoughtfully.
Dante scoffed, "Well, had enough yet?"
"Not a chance-"
Interrupting their little "manly" dispute, a large woman of Dante's height stepped between them and pushed them both away. "Okay what the fuck was that Maine?" She eyed the ring leader with a stern set of eyes, like a lover reprimanding her incompetent man.
He scowled, butting heads with his girl now. "What? Kid screwed with my delivery boy! Now he's stranded in the wastelands, ain't a good place to be." He grabbed his package before Dante could object.
The musclebound woman who was barking up a storm grabbed Maine by the collar, "Damnit Maine, it doesn't matter, you can't go blowing people in half like that in the open!"
Dante took a step back from their quarreling and put his hands behind his head, "Well, enjoy your lovers' dispute and all but I've got places to be." He spoke up suddenly, waving behind him after all eyes landed on his back.
He chuckled as he went, "But I'll be back, you can bet your behind on that much." He still wanted some compensation.
One last two fingered salute as he walked past a new figure, another snow haired woman with a dead gaze. Probably a bitch. His mood had been soured by the damage to his jacket, he'd have to get it fixed.
Which meant he needed a job that pays well, he was craving pizza too. Checking his pockets, Dante groaned. "Drat."
He was broke.
He'd have to be seeing them, sooner rather than later.