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[fuckchild]

[Maybe you've seen this punkass, maybe you haven't. He was kind of a wild thing in battle, hard to miss if you saw a lot of enemies floating in midair. Somehow, he doesn't look injured, not even a single scratch. The scar across his brow is an old one, from a time long past.

Dante's not one to mince his words, so...]

Alright, would anyone mind telling me what the fuck is really going on? First we're two pissed-off frat house that can't share a campus, now we're twenty invite-only clubs? And all of that because we wished upon a fucking rock?

[The expression on his face says he's clearly buying none of it. He's a stubborn one.]

I want answers. Real answers, not whatever fairyland shit you can come up with.

Comments

[survivra]

It's not like any of us are likely to know any better how a blazing rock works.

Unless someone has more information from those who fancy themselves not through with us yet, and you and I missed it—and we'll probably have to beat it out of them.

[fuckchild]

[Beat the crap out of someone for information?

Instant new friend.]

You got any idea where we can start on this beating?

[survivra]

[ she talks a bigger game than she walks most of the time, but she's done it before and if she felt a need she'd do it again ]

I want to find that man, the mad one who fed us tea before he threw us into the sky. He certainly knows something. After that, I'll find the first person who fashions himself king.

Or an imp. I'd not mind starting there.

[fuckchild]

That guy... [He frowns, because he's sure the tea man is full of shit.] I don't think he'd know anything.

[Again, he wonders what Vergil would do if he were here.]

It might be worth looking. I'm all for overthrowing the king. [He sneers a little at her imp comment.] Imps piss you off?

[survivra]

[ she snorts in response. ]

They're the reason I came here in the first place all that time ago, when I didn't ask. They haven't endeared themselves to me any further.

[ all other circumstances developing since them notwithstanding, she's held a grudge against all imps forever ]

[fuckchild]

How long have you been here?

[Because "all that time ago" implies pretty heavily she's seen some shit around here.]

[survivra]

Same amount of time as everyone else at this point, I expect. [ har. not what he meant and she knows it. ] Before that, two years. I don't want it to be as long without my permission this time.

[fuckchild]

Assuming we have permission.

[Dante's not the brightest crayon in the box, but he can see that much.]

[survivra]

I don't plan on asking. Where I go and what I do ought to be up to me—if the freedom to choose those things doesn't come from myself, then it's not freedom.

[fuckchild]

[Alright, totally new best friend. Fuck the system. He's grinning so hard now, hell yeah.]

You got a name, sweetie?

[survivra]

[ she merely glowers in return. the system sucks, man! so do your endearments. ]

Katsa. Thank you for using it.

[fuckchild]

[That doesn't seem much of a deterrent.]

You're welcome, sweetie.

[Not at all.]

[survivra]

[ more determined scowling ]

So was that a question that you were planning to answer in return, or am I to assume you've no name at all and respond only if someone stumbles into you?

[fuckchild]

Dante. But you can call me Dante the Demon Killer.

[Never gets old.]

[survivra]

Fine. Dante. I'll know whom to call I find anyone who knows what in the blazes we're to be expecting from the next rock someone picks off the ground.

[fuckchild]

What, are you scared of pebbles?

[Dante no.]

[survivra]

[ :| ]

One glowing rock tampering with my memories was enough for me. If we've truly gone back in time, for all I know it could be a small one. Maybe then all we'd need to do would be to throw it at something. I'd volunteer to throw—I never miss.

[ KATSA NO ]

Besides, I'd like to break the thing that thinks it has the right to play with people's lives as it has been.

[fuckchild]

You and me both. Whoever did this to us is going to pay. [A thoughtful beat.] But I'm kind of curious about your throwing. How's your aim with a gun?

[Because you know why not make a shootout?]

[survivra]

I've only shot one a few times, and that was more than a year ago, but my aim wasn't bad. I hit the center target. [ lessons from a musketeer in exchange for her teaching him how to use a bow. which, speaking of: ] I'm far more accustomed to using a bow. I thought guns were difficult to obtain in this place?

[fuckchild]

[He just shrugs, because he's pretty well aware of that and he also happens to be a walking arsenal.

Or would be, if the assholes didn't lock up his weaponry somewhere in fairyland...]

I've got my own from back home.

[survivra]

Then if I ever hear something terribly loud, I'll know it's you. [ she doesn't even mean it to be rude ] If you want proof of my aim, I can always give it. Unless you're asking for another reason.

[fuckchild]

[He's not offended, because it's true. He did single-handedly bring down a church and walked away from that.]

Just curious. Unless you want another reason.

[Dante stop.]

[survivra]

No. But now I'm curious about yours.

[fuckchild]

What, my aim?

[No shit Dante what else]

It's pretty damn good.

[survivra]

Well, if you've survived in this place, I suppose it must not be terrible.

[ trying to decide whether she's interested in seeing someone shoot a gun again. she's long come to the conclusion that arrows and knives are quieter and therefore far better, but if she herself isn't using it—does she care?

she wonders if she could dodge a bullet. ]

Can you show me? Your aim with one.