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Devil May Cry: Abyssal



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Klom89

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So, the doctor had no idea about the headache, and nobody else seemed the least bit interested in mulling on it.

Then shit started hitting the fan. As C.C. hears the doctor making an off-hand comment about his father and demonic powers, (Was Fake King Kong his f**kin' dad?!) she sees more demons popping out of the hole that used to be the good doctor's clinic.

"Oh, y'all want some too?!" Shouts C.C., aiming her Gatling gun at the enemies, the bullets rhythmically flying. She sees the others preparing to engage the enemy. The Doctor in particular seemed all but ready to assail the horde with guerrilla attacks. C.C. didn't operate like that. She wasn't stupid, but she didn't care for strategy and manipulation. As far as she was concerned, Mr. Obliterator was all she needed to mow down any enemy she came across. Hey, it's worked before. Why fix what ain't broken?!

"Get some, ya f**ckin' demon-asses!" Shouts C.C.

Now this? THIS was a night on the town! As she fires, she can feel the shot-gun slung on her back whisk back and forth from the shock of the recoil. It'll get it's time in the sun eventually. Eventually.
 

Unknwn

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Stepping out and forth from the entrance of some high-fasion boutique, a look of disgust played the face of Ro. He had no luck. Sadly, he couldn’t find the pair of sneakers he was looking for. He was wearing a shirt which said “For Sale” in a ghoulish, dripping font on the right sleeve and “Been Trill” in the same font across the upper back of the shirt, reaching from shoulder to shoulder. A simple pair of slim-fit black jeans which stacked nicely on his Air Yeezy 2s. His gaze wandered up and down the street, as he felt the presence of a few other of power, though they were one street over from him. However it was empty for the most part although something did seem off to him. Cars were parked here and there up the street, but not a single person was to be seen. Something was wrong, and he felt it. His eyes narrowed and he allowed his figure to move forward and step off the sand walk onto the street.


And then it happened. A four-legged dog demon, size of a mini-van landed right before him, roaring a roar which caused Ro to take a step back. Not so much the roar, but the saliva that spewed forth from the sharp-teeth lined mouth of the demon. His right hand came up to his face, whipping aside the horrid-smelling saliva that speckled his face. That same look of disgust from earlier slid upon his face, his icy-blue irises swirling to a light-red color. Ro stuck his right hand out from his body, a black flame covering his hand and within a second, Old Royal was within his fingers, and held rather tightly at that. He took a step forward now, swinging the back-flat side of the blade for the head demon. His stance mirrored that of a world-class baseball player swinging for a home-run.


The blade met the head of the dog before it had time to respond, the sheer force of the blunt-side of the blade knocking it’s skull right off its frame and up into window. Lowering the blade, Ro pointed off into the direction in which the head flew off at, a smirk tugging at his lips as he shouted “Sooosaaaa~!” in memory of the baseball player.


“Home-runs baby, that’s all I do.“


He said, the body of the now dead creature falling before him onto the pavement. With that, he brought his hand down from pointing, Old Royal dissipating in a black flame.


“Too ea-!”


He was cut off. In an instant, two reapers had formed before him, one with it’s scythe already into Ro gut. Reapers were skeletons, draped in a tattered clothe, wielding large scythes. With a flick of it’s boney wrist, Ro was launched a good 6 stories, or 70-something feet up into the air, the airborne man visible to anyone who looked up at that moment. And at that moment, the second reaper took a swift leap, placing itself right in the air right in front of Ro, the blade of its scythe cutting the air to reach Ro for a deathly strike.
 

Chill

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Well, this wasn't good.
How many of these guys were there? A few too many to count right now. Josh thought looking to the army charging towards him, then looking back at the bunch of people with him and then back to the army. For now that is. It was at this very point in time that the doctor guy spoke.
"First my father becomes enraged with demonic powers, then a tower explodes and expels a legion of demons, and now this."
'Crap,' Josh muttered. 'Now isn't a very good time.' Even mentioning a word associated with parents would make Josh change into his other personality of Fletcher, caused by the trauma of his father murdering his mother and then committing suicide right in front of Josh's very eyes. He didn't like to think about it. Josh's right eye twitched and he changed into Fletcher instantly, who stretched and looked around. Seeing the group of demons charging towards his direction he sighed.

'What the hell have you gotten us into Josh?' Sliding the glasses on his head down to his eyes Fletch buttoned up his coat, flicked out Slasher and walked towards the demons. One jumped at him and Fletch punched it with his left hand shocking it at full power with Saint Zapolas. It dropped to the ground dead, its death ignored by the other demons who attacked like idiots. There was no co-ordination, they just all took their turn fighting Fletch. It was like Final Fantasy Fletcher realised, but they died right after their turn. Slasher's blade went straight through the chest of one demon, which Fletcher pulled around and used as a shield to block another demon's attack who Fletch countered by jumping, spinning and landing a solid kick to the head with his steel capped boot.
'I didn't know I was that flexible!' Fletcher exclaimed, proud of himself. Two demons came at him at once, one swinging a some demonic sword and the other just uses its claws by the looks of it. Fletch swung Slasher hard and knocked the first demon's sword away with his right hand and smacked the back of his left hand into the other's head. Two more attacked on top of the now sword-less demon, both with weird weapons.

'Okay, now you're a threat.' Fletcher said before he slid under them as they jumped, turning around just before they didn't and slicing one's head clean off its shoulders with some effort. It fell to the ground limp and Fletch turned to the other two, both swinging at him. Fletcher dodged their attacks but misread one's actions, resulting in him getting a cut to his right arm.
'Sh1t!' Fletcher yelled. The cut really wasn't that bad, Fletch was exaggerating the pain a bit, but he realised that if he didn't get out of there he would get overpowered by the demons if they were given time. So, as to escape in the most visually epic way possible, Fletcher kicked a demon in its stomach, ran on to its back when it bent over from the pain and kicked off into the air, aimed Sir Grapple at a tree he spotted and fired. He zipped to the tree and away from the demons, climbing on to a branch and sitting there for a moment to gain his breath. But it'd only be a moment.



 

Noel

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Eyehehehehyeheh


"Reginald will bring in the fun tonight!"


The very happy jester on top of a gargoyle statue seeing the carnage ravish around the city. Scooting closer to the edge of the statue, tip toeing and leaning forward maintaining a perfect balance to get a closer look.
A sudden twitch reacted from his right ear.

"What's this? Reginald hears gunfire! Who's killing my demons!? Reginald will stop them!"

The jester with a snap of his fingers...specifically his pinky and and thumb. He vanishes in to air, with the same dispersion of a pink rosey flame. The flame reappears to the ledge of the building.

"Whoooooopsie, Reginald forgot his Wu-Bear!"

Picking up his stuffed monkey from the wall of the wall, hugging it tightly feeling the soft cotton fibers touch his silk clothing. True affection between man and...monkey. With another snap of his fingers he vanishes again.


>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
What an interesting team...

A girl with a mini-gun she seems to be enjoying this, a very personatic person, and finally a teleporting doctor. Wait isn't that a show? Aw well, they know how to care of them selves I guess. Cadaver asked Atticus a certain question. Dodging swipes from the demon spawn, and pushing their momentum forward with his leg.


"Angel yes, guess you can say that, but of death? Not my forte."


A larger demon appeared behind the Atticus, striking him on his back, enough for him to scowl in the pain, but it wasn't enough. The angel spins and slashes around decapitating his head, dropping him down. The demons head still in the air, falling down to the black top. As soon as it made contact, it vanished. The head, body, every demon vanished. Alive or dead, the street was empty, only him and his allies were still present. Sudden clapping came from behind him. What the hell? A pile of all the demons, in a pyramid shape, stacked, laying on each other. The crown on top? It was a jester, smiling. This can't be good.



<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<


"Reginald is sick of you guys! Why kill my spawn?! Reginald's friends did nothing to you!"

Sudden anger came from him, a demon underneath him was touching his foot. Looking down he noticed this, he crouched down petted the demon for the a little, he seemed to enjoy it...until it's neck was snapped. Blood spurted off of the demon touching the jesters lips. Reginald looking back up to the group and licks his lips.


"Reginald feels like you guys will enjoy this since of you enjoy killing Reginald's friends!"


Holding on to his Wu bear, snap of his fingers he warps everyone in the area to a certain place.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Huh?


The group were in a theater-ish room, but it was all pitch black, Not being able to see anything. Moving around his hands hopping to feel a wall, to result, it was just air sadly...


"Yo anyone here?"

 
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Light

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A marvelous display had occurred.

Firstly, he had not needed to deliver the death-bringing blow he thought he would. Secondly, the demons. And, well, thirdly, the demons.

Quite a couple of people had risen to the challenge of slaying the behemoth of a monster: one gattling toting lady, and a man, searching for his God. Tomas couldn't quite place his finger on him. Had he seen him at the temple before? The Church, perhaps? He brushed it from his mind, deciding that it could wait until the beast had been moved off the streets.

He hopped, skipped, and leaped off the building. Before he touched ground, he spun in a circle, raising a ring of dust as he touched the torn asphalt. Standing, offering no word of his whom-abouts, he walked over to help move the massive deadweight.

Which was when the sky exploded.

The bell tower vaporized, aside from the bell which liquefied, raining molten copper on the stragglers walking below. A shockwave ran forwards, and Tomas stumbled. Instinctively, he grabbed his katana, twirling the jeweled blade up and around his body. Tomas' vision reeled. He shook his head once, twice, thrice, before his eyes stopped swimming. He looked up towards where the bell tower had been and saw a sight of terror.

Demons ran forward from a portal of sorts. Grotesque beasts that dwarfed the thing they had been fighting emerged from the doorway. A loud ringing echoed in Tomas' ears and his vision darkened as he continued to gaze upon the picture, as if his senses deadened from its presence. It was intoxicating, and hard to draw away from. Especially for a man of such faith as Tomas.

He did it though. A mental heave and he was free to look forwards. Forwards onto the first wave of demons that had rushed forth.

Tomas lunged, moving like a thunderbolt upon the first Satan-spawn he saw. He cut clean through, Hope carving through demonflesh as if it were but beef. Quickly, slashing left then right, he felled the two that had eagerly attempted to avenge their brother. The Walkers of Hell filled the streets now. Screams of despair filled the air. Shouts of pain bellowed. Woe to Midgar.

A whole wave fell on him, moving forward in an awkward but noticeable unison. He cut a long slice, running diagonally from one wall to another. A glowing blue-white trail hung where his sword went. He pushed out with an open palm and the gleaming line shot forwards. Where it touched, demons died, or as close to death as they encountered. Heat washed over him, his power surging from his body.

Tomas frowned. He knew the front-members of the Demon-horde were weak, but he had expected more. Perhaps Her Gloriousness had prepared him for this. Still, he couldn't help but think: "Minerva, My Lady, give me strength. If I am to resurrect you, I will need as much as I can get."

*** *** ***

Tomas had effectively held the backs of the group. He noticed that more had joined them since the bell tower explosion. A choked scream gurgled from the mouth of the last demon that had tried to take them from behind. He assessed himself quickly, taking account of the scratches and bruises that adorned his body. Nothing serious. Nothing, really.

Then the laughter started. It was mad, manical, crazy, insane. Something otherwordly, something supernatural, something demonic. So it seemed, at least.

Tomas turned, slowly, gaining his measure of the things. A pyramid of demons, a writhing, living(is it called life in the Seven Circles?), mass; and atop a cackling jester. There was a magnitude to him, that despite his comical appearance, he was powerful. Which was demonstrated very shortly.


"Reginald is sick of you guys! Why kill my spawn?! Reginald's friends did nothing to you!"

The voice bounced off the air. It was quiet now, Tomas noticed. Deathly so. As if the Promised Land was the deepest Void. It was unnerving, considering the chaos of the battle just previous.

"Reginald feels like you guys will enjoy this since of you enjoy killing Reginald's friends!"

That probably wasn't good. Pointing Hope at the clown, he took that brief moment to summon the energies to blast him in fire.

But aborted. In the next fraction of a second, he was in a theater room with the rest of the people.


"Yo anyone here?"
Tomas replied, "Yeah, man, I think we all are. Hear the breathing?"

He sighed, and kicked the ground as he waited for everyone to gain their bearings. That jester-king was powerful indeed.
 

Cassette-Disk

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Albiner had just finished punching a particularly fat demon in the back of the head when he decided to look up.
"Gross." He said simply as he watched a jester clinging to a stuffed monkey. The monkey deserved better. The doctor was just a bit too far away to catch exactly what the jester had said, but it was obvious he wasn't a fan of their work. The doctor was about to make a quick comment, but the jester snapped his fingers and that was that. Albiner hated surprises. Or rather, he hated surprises that weren't going to positively effect him. Like being transported to a remote location.

"Please stop touching me." Albiner said not unkindly as a hand lightly reached his chest. The darkness was obvious, but it would soon clear up. Darkness had a way of doing that. Pulling out his phone, the doctor punched in a few numbers and brought it to his ear.
"No service." He said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. "That's hardly surprising though, isn't it?" At the very least he knew there were others with him, most likely the same group that had helped him with his father. He smiled to himself in the darkness and wondered if he was really dead this time, and if he wasn't just how angry he would be when he was brought back. "Does anyone," Albiner asked, taking out his carton of cigarettes, "need a smoke?"
 
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