artist formally known as tony redgrave (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
subhuman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2023-02-02 10:17 pm
subhuman) wrote in abraxaslogs2023-02-02 10:17 pm
[closed] jukebox hero
Who: Dante & Others
When: February
Where: Horizon & Nocwich
What: Closed prompts and headaches (caused by Dante)
Warnings: Will add as needed!
When: February
Where: Horizon & Nocwich
What: Closed prompts and headaches (caused by Dante)
Warnings: Will add as needed!
for dean
So he summons up his shingy new-ish bike--new in the sense that he'd only just acquired it back home, -ish because it'd technically been made of the pieces of a husk of his dear old friend--and takes to the road. It's a little while as the changing landscape changes to that a deep forest, unfamiliar, but that's kind of the point. It's a quiet drive.
One that is inevitably interrupted by the appearance of some rather unfriendly looking beasties. Which should be a bad thing, but... ]
Hmmm...
[ Glowing red eyes? Claws curling ominously around tree branches?
Dante slows his bike to a stop. ]
I'm starting to think this place isn't the kind of place a guy wants to walk home alone at night.
[ He speaks casually as he revs the engine once, twice. ]
Well, there's no sense in hiding. Let's see what's behind doooooor...number one!
[ Is he rushing forward on the motorcycle to jump off a stray log and launch himself into the air towards the trees and the monsters?
Yes.
Is this something that someone should do in someone else's domain?
Not at all. ]
no subject
In any case, the sound of a rumbling motorcycle gets him rolling his flat board out so he can peer down the road, expecting Geralt. Nadine, maybe, though more often the former. He can count on one hand the number of people he's seen driving cars around the Horizon, only two of them ride motorcycles, and one of them tends to swing by more often than the other.
It is a flash of blonde hair he sees, but the proportions are all wrong.
And he's sprinting straight into freakin' Imaginary Purgatory. )
Woah, woah, woah- hey- guy!
( He calls out, scrambling to haul ass out from beneath Baby so he can book it into the woods after him.
The dude, he assumes, has absolutely no idea what he's running headfirst into. It's not tea time at daycare, that's for sure. He won't make it but a dozen yards in before something's launching itself fangs-first at him. with superhuman strength, intent to rip out his imaginary throat. )
no subject
What he doesn't expect is for anyone else to be wandering around these parts. A very human voice shouting out at him from down the dirt road would give pause, but he's already mid air. It's lights, camera, action and no takebacks.
He pulls back on the handlebars like he's reining in a horse, spinning himself and the bike so that the back wheel slams into the nearest tree. That's when he sees claws, big old claws that can only belong to a big old monster. Whether it by amazing reflexes or dumb luck, Dante manages to bounce back off the tree in the same moment, narrowly dodge the swipe and lands on the ground, doing a little donut with sparks flying off the back of his bike--claw marks having torn into the metal.
Dante whistles. ]
I hope you know a good mechanic. This girl's vintage!
[ Haha. Too bad Trish isn't here to appreciate that.
Despite the fact there are definitely monsters coming out now, he looks over his shoulder towards the approaching mostly non-threatening figure. ]
Hey buddy. You know they say two's a party, but three's a crowd. Might need to ask soem of these guys to leave.
no subject
It throws him off his game so hard he nearly gets an imaginary set of fangs to his imaginary Horizon throat before he snaps out of it and swings a machete he definitely didn't have in hand a moment ago. The leviathan's decapitated in one swift move, and the head goes rolling heavily toward Dante's feet. )
Hate to break it to you, Rando, but that's not how it works. You can put these sons of bitches down all day and they'll just keep coming, that's- it's- it's complicated, so get the hell outta there before you get fake-disemboweled!
( As though taking its cue, a fully-transformed werewolf snarls and bounds teeth-first at Dante's face. )
no subject
But he watches the guy--likely the patron of this, uh, lovely place--not only lay into him (understandable) but lob off a creature's head like he's shooing a fly. Lectures aside, Dante recognizes instinct when he sees it--the anger's directed at him, the outlier, rather than the monsters. This guy's seen some shit and knows how to deal with it. ]
A never-ending supply of party guests, huh?
[ Unfortunately Dante is perpetually prone to making a joke out of everything. It's chronic and there's no cure. (It's a coping mechanism.)
He turns, just in time for the werewolf to come at him. The reasonable thing to happen is for Dante to be mauled and suffer his hubris. It's certainly what he deserves. But what actually happens may be even worse.
What had once been a very edgy motorcycle is suddenly snapped apart into dual-wielding buzzsaws that he swings around, brutally slicing the werewolf at the shoulders and thighs. The pieces fall to the ground in an unseemly pile and Dante props one of the weapons on his shoulder. ]
And here I thought most people came to Horizon for some peace and quiet. Sounds like you could use a break.
[ What's he seeing on the regular that this is the sort of domain he'd create? ]
no subject
He is, thusly, in fucking awe.
He glances from the buzz saws to his dinky little machete, then mumbles unhappily under his breath: )
Mustn't be afraid to dream a little bit bigger, darling.
( Except it's faintly mocking — self-directed. He can't believe he's been running his ass around in Purgatory off and on for over a year, and it has yet to occur to him to break out a god damn grenade launcher or something instead of a stupid machete. He could've been making motorcycle knives this whole time.
Whatever.
He scowls petulantly, then turns his attention back to Dante, doing his best to swallow the expression with... middling success. )
Look, this isn't- this is, like, the back yard part, okay? I have a bar. This- this was here when I got here. Shut up, don't judge me.
i laughed so hard i'm so sorry dean
Dante doesn't know any of that, though. What he does know is that this is, yes, a very unfortunate back yard and not a place he would like to hang out in even if he can deal with it. So when the other man mentions a bar, he lights up. ]
Ah, a bar! Now that sounds like a good idea.
[ He flips the buzzsaws around and lets them reform his motorcycle proper. ]
Tell you what, drinks are on me for making a mess of your front lawn.
[ It's different from a back yard because it's the front. ]
cackling
Yeah, sounds great, thanks.
( Right on time for another leviathan to vault out of the trees at him in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. Before it makes impact, Dean's hand shoots out and he Signs, blasting the thing backward so hard it cracks into the trunk of a tree and sends splinters raining down on its unmoving form.
It'll get up eventually, it takes a hell of a lot more than that to bring down a Leviathan for long, but he's not interested in sticking around to finish the job. )
Come on.
( He knows the way — and steers them back toward the road, the trees growing less greyscale in color as they head for the imaginary highway that leads to the Roadhouse. )