[There was another poet who had written about a heat beating so loudly it forced its murderer to confess his sins. It wasn't one of Blake's works, which is probably why V can't draw the name to mind. The other reason could very well be that, as careful as he's been so far to avoid confrontations he knows his body can't handle, this one isn't going to leave him unscathed.
Actually, it will probably leave him dead for no matter how hard a human may wish to live, sometimes that wish is not fulfilled.
So close. He's so close and now is when his accursed weakness has to catch up to him? Now, when Malphas has nothing to stop her?
Playing games is only fun the first time, after all.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He should probably be listening to her mocking words, but they are buried under the sound of his heart beating. The very thing reminding him he is still alive for however much longer that may be. The only other sounds are the disgusting ones made by the Qliphoth itself. That and...
Silence?
It takes V a moment to open his eyes and then he has to close them again against the bright light of day. How long have they been in the demon tree that the sun's brightness stings his eyes?
Never mind. It's not an important question. More importantly, what has just happened? Is this another of Malphas' trials? Had he underestimated how quickly she would get bored toying with him?]
Griffon?
[By all rights, the bird demon should be squawking his ear off...and he's not. That doesn't bode well.
Relief he won't admit to feeling rushes through V when he confirms that all of the contracts with his familiars are still there. The markings' bold strokes still litter his skin, and yet not even faithful Shadow answers his call.
V finally takes a moment to look at the world around him, fingers closing around the cane that has remained at his side when nothing else has.]
And here I thought the Qliphoth was Hell on earth...
Network (Audio):
[The brief message starts with what sounds like the end of a cane hitting the sidewalk with a fair bit more force than the person using it intended. Of course, considering the tone of the speaker's words, the strike might very well have been intentional.]
V | Devil May Cry 5 | Spoiler Warning for DMC 5 & Visions of V
[There was another poet who had written about a heat beating so loudly it forced its murderer to confess his sins. It wasn't one of Blake's works, which is probably why V can't draw the name to mind. The other reason could very well be that, as careful as he's been so far to avoid confrontations he knows his body can't handle, this one isn't going to leave him unscathed.
Actually, it will probably leave him dead for no matter how hard a human may wish to live, sometimes that wish is not fulfilled.
So close. He's so close and now is when his accursed weakness has to catch up to him? Now, when Malphas has nothing to stop her?
Playing games is only fun the first time, after all.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He should probably be listening to her mocking words, but they are buried under the sound of his heart beating. The very thing reminding him he is still alive for however much longer that may be. The only other sounds are the disgusting ones made by the Qliphoth itself. That and...
Silence?
It takes V a moment to open his eyes and then he has to close them again against the bright light of day. How long have they been in the demon tree that the sun's brightness stings his eyes?
Never mind. It's not an important question. More importantly, what has just happened? Is this another of Malphas' trials? Had he underestimated how quickly she would get bored toying with him?]
Griffon?
[By all rights, the bird demon should be squawking his ear off...and he's not. That doesn't bode well.
Relief he won't admit to feeling rushes through V when he confirms that all of the contracts with his familiars are still there. The markings' bold strokes still litter his skin, and yet not even faithful Shadow answers his call.
V finally takes a moment to look at the world around him, fingers closing around the cane that has remained at his side when nothing else has.]
And here I thought the Qliphoth was Hell on earth...
Network (Audio):
[The brief message starts with what sounds like the end of a cane hitting the sidewalk with a fair bit more force than the person using it intended. Of course, considering the tone of the speaker's words, the strike might very well have been intentional.]
What kind of city exists without a book store?