songerein | Player Event: "Imbalance" [OPEN]

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Player Event: "Imbalance" [OPEN]

Who: Everyone! Even the newcomers! What a time to jump in, huh?
Which: OPEN Dreamscape
What: On the night of the 10th a strange dreamscape appears, dividing some dreamers into two, each bearing just half of themselves... how will they pull themselves together?
Warnings: Probably a lot. I trust you fine people to please mark your content appropriately should your threads make mention of anything triggering. I'm watching you.

Quiet nights never seem to stay quiet. It began with the slightest flicker within the crystal lanterns, a ripple, perhaps the sound of coins clinking together.

Then, with a distant scream, there was a torrent of blue and orange flame. It's hot but it doesn't burn, swirling and dancing with the frenzy of a desperate dancer. It blinds to familiar surroundings, twin colors that seemingly never end...

Until one's feet touches sand-dusted stone and marble. The air is hot and arid, ripe with burning kindling in myriad torches that line walkways. The flames rhythmically sway, catching the glimmer of golden archways and decor that embed the city... palace...? That lay before you.

Something is wrong. Really wrong. Something in you feels... different. Blank. But before you can comprehend it much further, something is running down the pathway in the distance to enter the palace like the devil was on its heels. That something looks just like you...

You pursue this weird other you... or, you don't. Perhaps you were drawn to the palace's splendor and decided to explore, maybe find some sweet treasure while you're here. Whatever the case, nothing about this place smells dusty or aged. It feels brand new... lined with statues and tapestries of what appeared to be great warriors, all humanoid and bearing twisted horns atop their heads and long, craggy tails covered in scales. But some of them have been altered in some way... some are missing their heads, and one or two "lucky" ones have simply had large claw marks ripped across their face. What would put claw marks in stone was anyone's guess.

Those who tire of the architecture may find some doors are unlocked. Yes, such a lavish place seems all too eager to lay itself bare for you, perhaps bearing a sparkly trinket or two to your liking. (Note: Unfortunately, any treasures obtained in the palace will only come back with you in the form of candies shaped as said jewels, crowns made of shortbread, tapestries spun from candy floss, etc. It's all food. Enjoy!)

Deeper and deeper you delve, either arms full of treasure or having bumped into friends who don't exactly act like your friends normally would, you find more motifs of the warriors, more intact the further you head through this weird city-palace. Near the center are statues depicting two... figures... each holding a pair of scales.

Yet no matter how much you wait and watch them, the scales continue to sway from one side to the other. There's nothing on their respective plates, however... what could be throwing them off?

If you place anything on the plates and mend the swaying scales, you are given a single shard of a strange crystal rife with dreamotion energy with a sense of wholeness and connection. It shifts colors as you turn it this way and that in your hand. Maybe that'll help put some of these people back together if fighting or talking to them won't do it...

[ooc: Information and Plotting post is here for easy review. The shards are meant to simplify putting people back together if needed, but are the only thing that can be taken into the semi-waking world as a pretty bauble. Also, a reminder that this is optional. Enjoy!]

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Someone was nearby. Someone trying to remain unseen, skulking through unknown hallways for answers and a safe place, but the hellhound's senses are too precise. She can smell another demon lurking around, one doing a poor job of hiding their stress. It would be easy to track him down.

Dante, this half of him without courage and the ability to play it cool in every circumstance, finds himself nervously pacing through golden corridors waiting for the other shoe to drop. In every shadow, every crevasse, is the chance of being ambushed. A shaky hand clings to an ivory pistol, begging to never need firing, pleading for the ability to do so if needed. A jumpy target, but one that Loona can probably take.

The moment and the chance were there.

The wolf that was Loona breathed deep and inhaled that scent and everything it could tell her at once, the uncertainty, the hesitancy, Dante might as well have been leaving a trail of blood fresh on the ground.

She moved without much of any hint to her presence. Yet with Dante as paranoid as he was - rightly so it seemed now - there was no way he would miss the small things. The crumble of rock that was gouged by unforgiving claws, the trickle of dust and detris that were disturbed by feet fleet yet frighteningly silent.

And they were all around him, the noises, the shadows, the looming and waiting inevitability of the Thing in the Dark that tightened its grip bit by bit for every moment Dante stood there.

Yet fight or flight, the moment was gone, the chance to act upon those instincts had been and went far too quickly. For a moment there was a stark silence, one that even far off torches would not break with their crackle and a stillness fell over everything to the point the only noise Dante would hear would be his own breaths.

That was when the wolf that was Loona pounced. That was when she made her move.

Her jaws were entirely too sharp and quick as they struck in one single snap that catapulted out of the shadows. Yet, they would find no flesh.

Interestingly enough, for having such a perfect moment to have the drop on Dante, Loona had made no move to take down such a seemingly obvious prey. No, instead Loona's jaws were entirely fixed upon the ivory pistol in Dante's hand, looking to tear it free of his unsteady grip and make haste with the thing.

No words, only the guttural cry that Loona gave as her fangs snapped downward to steal that pistol.

So it goes, with every little noise alerting an overtuned sense of danger. Every little sound, the scuffles of quickly shuffling feet or pebbles dropping down from fresh claw marks that weren't there the last time he looked. Unfortunately for him, this did something worse than leave him fumbling through architecture unknown and being attacked outright.

This confirmed something was after him. And might even be playing with him. A cruel pursuer would continue to taunt him, remind him that the preferred alternative is to be alone in the dark. And until proven otherwise, this is the logic that Dante goes with. He winces at the fresh claw marks, clinging tightly to his pistol. He could feel his heart ready to burst out and make a run for it, his lungs desperately trying to steady themselves. Every anxious breath he took provided another sound for the hunter to conceal themselves beneath.

And when that hunter strikes, he's surprised that no fangs pierce his skin. It would've been easy to do so; with enough work, she could tear off his hand and take the gun with it. However, she's too precise. She could've easily struck any part of him; aiming for the gun would rob him of the only way he could reliably defend himself.

He gasps in surprise. "Shit...!"

The firm grip of her teeth and violent thrashing make it extremely difficult for him to keep hold of the gun. If he loses it, he's screwed. At the same time, what can he do now? Maybe it's a fluke, maybe it's a deep reflex. One way or another, the gun fires twice, its barrel pointing sideways and aiming the bullets into a nearby wall. Maybe if Dante's lucky, the source of gunfire so close to keen ears might give him the chance to escape with his gun. Otherwise, the hellhound's running off with a shiny new toy.

The gun went off, taking more than a few strands of fur as the shot exploded just past the wolf that was Loona's face, but if it bothered her past the initial sound and heat, she certainly didn't show it.

If anything more, it just made her jaws clamp down suddenly harder as the nearest eye to Dante clenched shut in similar fashion.

And just like that, as she kept going in motion, she had his gun.

Over the remnants of a pillar and a half-eroded statue she leapt, following platforms up and up before finally about turning now to glower down at Dante there, her growl deep and long past the prized pistol in her jaws.

The claim was made, this was hers now, and with no regard to any threat from the apparent hunter, she fell onto her belly and flopped, gnawing on the pistol in her mouth as her front paws tried to position themselves to hold the thing better.

...The ivory white color... and the shape of the pistol wasn't that far off of a femur... did the hellhound think it was a bone?

She huffed, letting out hot breath as she gnawed away on her new chew toy, eyes actively looking away from Dante and seemingly ignoring him, but still flicking every now and then back.

Was she... taunting him? Making no effort to escape with her prize and waiting to see what he would do now without it?

Loona's violent shaking was too much for Dante, leaving him stumbling backwards and letting her run off with her prize. The hunter, now without his weapon, watches her climb up towards the ceiling, seemingly escaping...

...And then flopping down to chew on his gun. Like a bone.

There were several instances, back when Dante was whole, where he taunted a few Cerberus dogs by offering to take them on walks and other such doggie things. This is the first time he's ever seen a demon dog act like a normal dog. He actually has to stop and stare for a moment; the sight has him setting his acute paranoia aside to let this register in his head.

It doesn't take long to come back, though. Being distracted will leave him open to further ambush, this time without a gun.

"H-hey! I need that back!"

Cue Dante trying to climb the pillar and follow the path Loona took to get up there, with not nearly as much agility or speed. Occasional pauses to regain his balance are made.

"That thing you're...chewing on? It's...gonna keep demons from chewing on me! Whoa...so I...really need that back, okay?"

Ears pricked up at his words, so she was definitely hearing the words that were coming out of Dante's mouth. Only problem was she certainly was not listening.

Her chewing and gnawing on the ivory pistol only slowed slightly, pausing to gauge his approach toward her, and then finally - only when Dante was just a bit past the reach to touch the gun - did Loona leap like a trap sprung tight, hitting the floor and nearly carving her landing as claws let her skid to a stop. The whole time keeping her eyes on Dante as she slid.

Head down, hindquarters high and tail thrashing in big wild wags, oh yeah, she was playing with him alright.

And she certainly wasn't about to give up her prize without him figuring out some way to outfox her.

And just as she leapt well out of Dante's reach, the surprise of it has him losing his balance. There's some fumbling and a very last minute save as he holds still in an awkward pose. Gotta make sure he actually has his balance, you know? And while he's holding it, he watching the wolf be very excited about this turn of events. It's strange, actually. If she were hostile, she'd be growling and that tail wouldn't wag nearly as much as it is now.

Strange as it is to admit, it's kind of cute. For once, after being separated from his ability to act despite danger, Dante relaxes a little bit. Almost as unnatural would be the light smile on his face. He's gonna take a moment to slowly climb back down onto the ground before doing anything else. He still needs his gun back, but it doesn't have to be a violent altercation, does it? Maybe she just wants to have a little fun.

He has an idea. Keeping her eyes on him, Dante takes off his coat and ducks behind it some, holding it up like a curtain. Positioning himself next to a stairwell he can circle around in a moment, he peeks out from behind it, looking back at Loona. This repeats a few times, hiding behind his coat and looking out, before "magically", the coat drops to the floor and Dante's gone! Where did he go?

The hellhound there moved, but only an inch or two. Keeping fleet on her paws she was most definitely watching Dante, almost entirely fixated on him and staying ready to continue the game of keepaway as deftly as she could so that she would be ready to bounce the moment he would get within arm's reach of the pistol being gnawed in her maw.

And certainly it seemed as if there wasn't more on the hellhound's mind than that, even as Dante lowered himself to the ground no warning growl came or other sign of imminent danger. Instead ears flicked and eyes watched fixed as he moved, even with a slight inclination of the head that tipped to the side in curiosity as he removed the coat.

So of course she was fixated, following him as he ducked behind the coat and up again. There. Not there. There. Not there. There. Not there-

Loona jolted upright, went straight to attention when the canine's whole body jerked in a sudden surprise as the coat hit the floor with nothing left of Dante behind. For a moment she went so still, uncertain of what had happened or what to do, but just as quick she bounded forward - dropping the gun as she did - and hit the coat on the floor, pawing it back and forth, nose twitching as she tried to check he wasn't underneath or find any clue to what happened, craning her head back and forth, looking all around as she wheeled in place to find a clue.

Certainly seemed like Dante's plan worked. Just depended now what he planned to do next it seemed!

First part done. So far, so good. The next bit is going to be absolutely crucial, so it's important for Dante to be careful and deliberate in every one of his actions from here on out. It won't be easy, with Loona's senses as sharp as they are, but Dante has a few advantages. With her so thoroughly investigating the coat, she might not smell him moving around the staircase and back to the gun. She could hear him, sure, but maybe it would also distract her. Less so than concealing his scent, but moving around when she did? It'd help for part of it.

If only his movements were so precise.

He tries to be quiet for as much of it as possible, then when the gun is close enough, he'll try to dive and roll to pick it up along the way. That's guaranteed to get Loona's attention and even then, it's still covered in drool. When it slips out of his hands and back onto the floor, Dante holds his hands out towards her, gesturing for her to stop.

"Hold on! Hold on!" He's speaking out in a calm voice. Less excited, less likely she may think this is part of playtime. "You wanna...you wanna play with something? I know you like this thing, but it's dangerous. Danger? Bad. It could hurt you. And neither of us wants that, okay?"

He glanced around the room for anything else to offer as collateral and...there's his coat still there. Dante points to it.

"That? We can play with that. Just a coat. No loud noises, no brain splattering bullets. Tug? Play?"

He has no idea what he's doing.

Indeed as Dante moved he'd see the hellhound quick to pick up on any sensation or clue of where he had went, but the idea of moving only when she did certainly seemed to give him a headstart, the canine prodding her head around the pillar where he had only been a moment prior and sniffing for any clues.

All the while the path back to his gun was clear, all he had to do was-

Well. Not drop it.

In an instant she was about turned and facing the suddenly reappearing Dante and almost bounding over to him before she herself knew what she was doing, running on instincts before he held his hands up and waved for her attention. And lo and behold she skidded to a stop, causing even more clawmarks on the worn slabs of the floor.

He had her attention, but her eyes were moving as he spoke even as she stayed stock still. And as he continued to speak and try to plead to good sensibilities and common sense not to play with the weapon, well, the more he'd continue the speech, the more he would see her eyes flitting from him back to the now well slimed gun.

Dante was right in only one aspect of his thoughts. He really didn't know what he was doing with a dog.

In what era of human history a dog ever had taken the bribe offered to get it to drop whatever offending item they held or not grabbed the item the people of the house wanted un-drooled upon was one that had far more discipline than anything Loona had been given.

No, it had the opposite effect instead since this was now a game. He wanted to keep her away from the white not-bone. She wanted the chewing thing. He was giving her all the attention and she had to have it. One second she was looking at the devil hunter, the next, she bolted, tail flailing behind her when she snatched the gun without issue. The only question now as she was already running, was whether or not Dante could grab hold of the wild bushy fur to hitch a ride, or if he could follow the hellhound once more as she bounded down the hallway.

And again he'd see her, peering back at him, almost DARing him to grab the gun once more and keep this chase going now into a full Benny Hill tribute since Loona had seen Dante was willing to follow.

Well shit. He had the advantage, a solid plan and even had the endgoal in sight. In his hand, even! Unfortunately, a heart to heart approach wasn't the right move here, so in a flash, she snatched the gun back up and he's right back at square one. God damn it, you dunce. Loona's quickly running off, though, and the one advantage is him being able to grab on to her fur and immediately be dragged along for a ride. The hellhound is damn strong, appropriate for a demon, and probably isn't slowed down much by suddenly having a passenger.

Perhaps in a like encounter with a colossus, the appropriate background music wouldn't be nearly as comical as what this scene deserves. Unfortunately for Dante, this encounter isn't so grand. Technically this counts as a form of keepaway, right? Trying to shake him off is one way to go about it...actually. That gives him an idea. If he can eject the clip and the bullet in the chamber, it wouldn't be so dangerous anymore. She'd be safe to gnaw on it until she gets bored.

He probably should've opened with that. Would've saved this embarrassing moment.

Something to remember for next time. In the meantime, he's gotta hold onto her fur and try to get a little closer to the pistol. Eject the clip first, then pull back the slide...while clinging to an excitable hellhound running around the castle. This almost feels like a dare.

Oh, Loona certainly didn't show any problem with Dante grabbing on for the ride. Hell, she seemed to be all for extending this game any which way she could, sending the pair barreling down the empty halls and corridors.

Although that didn't mean Loona was about to make it easy, she wanted this game to continue after all it seemed, rolling her body with just how excessively fast she would corner and turn, giving Dante more than a bumpy ride for his troubles.

At least there wasn't anything deliberately antagonistic being thrown at him by her - apart from one rocky outcrop that came without much warning to duck or get whacked in the face by a gargoyle that was currently covering its eyes as if unable to watch itself.

Yet the ride was quickly over, whether or not Dante had managed to last wasn't that important, as they seemed to have reached a final spot where the Hellhound turned and turned again.

Her nose was held high and twitching aggressively, as a much-drooled-upon gun slipped from her maw to the ground and she padded forward.

Something else had gotten her attention, and perhaps it had something to do with the rather ominous statue held in the middle of this large chamber, a figure holding a large set of scales - no, two figures, one was almost hidden by a lance of light that covered it with a glare - crooked and misshapen, almost as off-kilter as the scales that swayed there.

And curiously enough the only thing on the scales seemed to be a very out of place looking cell phone.

Holding onto a speeding hellhound is difficult enough for this Dante; there's not much flourish he can do right this second and not losing his grip is talent enough on its own. That may be the one luxury afforded to a man barely hanging on and waving like a flag: automatically avoiding the outcrop that'd end this demon themed runner game.

Loona coming to a sudden stop has the momentum flings him across the room, stumbling into a nearby collection of valuables that offer a satisfying cacophony of slapstick destruction. He picks himself up before long and approaches Loona to pick his gun back up, but looks up at the same statue she is. He definitely didn't notice this earlier. Or is it a new room he hadn't explored?

"That's...different."

Slowly, he's just gonna. Pick up that gun now. Still slimy from wolf spit, but he'll worry about that a bit later. A casual wipe against his pants and back in the holster it goes. He'll take some initiative and approach the statue for closer inspection.

"What's one of these doing here? Someone left it, you think? It sure doesn't fit the castle's aesthetic..."

He reaches for the cellphone to try and examine it...

Luckily it seemed the hellhound was far too distracted by the scales to notice the gun anymore as he retrieved it. Instead she fell into step with him, glancing between him and the scales, nose twitching notably and snuffling loudly to try and get some of her own clues about it.

But then as soon as he reached for the phone, the thing flipped open of its own accord and a familiar voice came from the receiver, "Took you goddamn long enough! I've been sitting here for fucking ever!!"

The hellhound let out a yelp, skittering on paws and running until the massive beast was now trying to somehow huddle its hulking size behind Dante's silhouette, the Scooby to his Shaggy as she trembled from the voice on the other side.

Loona's voice.

"...wait. Who is this?"

Dante quickly pulled his hand back as the voice sneered at him. Unpleasant as it was, it was also familiar. Memories are a bit scrambled because of the split, but once the hound started cowering behind him, the less than brave hunter knew there was no choice but to speak up for the both of them.

"Uhh...it's...just Dante. Or uhh...half of him, I guess. Been feeling really off since I came here."

There's a look of concern back towards the hound. Poor girl must be startled by it.

"How about you? I haven't met a single resident of this place yet and I don't think you're the first."

"...god fucking damnit..."

The voice paused for a second there on the cellphone before speaking up again, "Alright. Alright. Now, I'm gonna say something and you're gonna hang up and think I'm some sick freak or something... but I'm gonna need you to not do that and listen to me, got it?" "..." "I'm gonna need you to shoot the dog."

The hellhound behind Dante let out a cartoonish whimper as if to say 'me', looking between Dante and the offending cellphone in hand that had just made the hit out on her.

"...still there?" "I didn't hear a gunshot."

Dante, appropriately, looks mortified by the request. He glances back at the hellhound, wondering what the hell she could've done to have the voice request such a thing. She didn't cause him that much trouble! A scare and some exhaustion, but nothing to get shot over.

He stands between the hellhound and the phone. Despite this half lacking his usual bravado, he's making a stand.

"You ask me to shoot a dog without even telling me why? The Hell do you want her shot for?"

"Look. It's fucking complicated and it's one of those hurts me more than shit hurts you deals. Longer we stretch this out the more goddamn uncomfortable this is gonna be for everyone in the morning."

There was a sound something like a groan from the other side of the cellphone as it impotently vibrated with the voice, unable to act on any of the owner of said voices vices or desires.

"All you need to know is? She is me. Like, we got split up, and I've been fucking stuck here on this scales for ages, which only made that stronger."

The hellhound maintained its position behind Dante, flicking eyes back and forth in a flitted manner, awkward and unsure where to go now apart from Dante's side, "There's a core inside it, a piece of me that needs to be put on the scales to balance. And it ain't shitting it out anytime soon..."

To the emotional Dante's ears, the logic is there. Combine the two cores and then they might come back together into a whole person. The hellhound might benefit from getting the Hell out of this place; make more friends besides him. But...removing her core to put on the scale? There's no way that won't be painful.

"...I get the whole balancing bit. Two halves become whole. But can't she just--"

A gunshot rings out through the halls, freezing Dante in place. The bone-colored pistol is still in his hand, but it isn't the one that fired.

The smoking gun comes from behind the pair, fired by an ebony pistol that matches emotional Dante's in design. This Dante, covered in demon blood with a heart-shaped hole where his should be, had taken the shot on the unsuspecting hellhound. By the time his other half overcomes enough of the shock to look away from her to his other half, he just shrugs.

"Don't look at me like that; you finally get the balls to stand up for something and it's to make things harder for everyone? Get over yourself."

"...soooo, I heard a gunshot, we good? Orrrrrrr, you good? Really hoping you just found yourself a similar situation to me and not just arguing with yoursel- you know what I mean."

The voice on the phone certainly tried to sound casual, the static of the phone's loudspeaker most certainly obscured any panic or uncertainty, but the voice certainly had reason to pause with this new more pragmatic Dante and possibly wondering itself whether or not this was still what she wanted.

The hellhound on the floor however?

With one Dante right beside her, the canine never caught on to the others presence by scent or otherwise. So obscured and caught off guard, it stood no chance when the gun went off.

Down the canine fell to the floor, with a hole that wasn't far from matching the one this new Dante sported. And there it lay, heaving on the floor.

Yet it wasn't because the hound was breathing.

Something was pushing out, trying to emerge from the gaping wound that now bled black, some viscous, oozing substance pooling onto the floor, spreading far faster and in more volume than the wound should have done so normally.

Emotional Dante dropped to his knees, trying to hold Loona's hand as she bled out and...what came out of the wound definitely wasn't blood. It's more like something was taking the wound as an opportunity to break out of the hellhound's body and pragmatic Dante did it a favor. The man with the smoking gun figured that would be the core the voice mentioned and approached the downed hound to collect it.

But not before having the white pistol pointed at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! We don't kill innocent demons!"

Pragmatic Dante didn't respond to his other half, instead calling out to the voice over the phone. "...She's down. Bleeding enough black ooze to fill a horror flick. That the core trying to push itself out?"

He's about ready to kneel down and get it out when emotional Dante reminds him of the pointed gun, furious and glaring upwards with watering eyes. Slowly, he kneels down in front of his counterpart to slowly push the gun aside.

"You wanna help her? See this through. Hate me all you want, but don't let her suffer because of it."

"Wait. Black ooze?" A small pop and hiss came from the phone, as smoke started to rise from it.

"Well. Shit."

As the two Dante's were being torn up with each other, literally tearing themselves in two over the whole thing, the hellhound on the ground twitched, the ooze beginning to congeal and form more distinct shapes.

And as the cellphone sizzled hot upon the balancing scales, the same black ooze began to now manifest, bubbling up through any gaps in the speaker and dribbling out onto the scale, beginning to slowly tilt it downward.

As the scales tipped, the Hellhound rose in an unnatural lurch, less of it standing and more of some unseen giant hand pulling it to its feet, the canine turning to the two devil hunters as that wound was ripping open. No, the wound wasn't ripping open. The ooze was tearing IT open.

As the hound unleashed a savage roar the seams of its skin split open all at once and the black ooze was all that was there, like a puppet turned inside out now the things form rose and became a twisted, silhouetted exaggeration of itself, with only the blaring lights of blood red eyes and the golden light in its chest to break the darkness that now had its eyes on them.

"Black ooze means it's time for phase two, boys." The voice came, even more distorted than ever.

With the black ooze concentrating itself into a more solid and violent form, the two Dante's are forced to step away, watching it convulse and ready itself for a fight. Just like the phone suggested was going to happen. Both have their halves of Ebony and Ivory at the ready, even with emotional Dante's pistol still sticky with drool.

"No one likes an ending where you shoot the dog." He calls out to his pragmatic half.

"Especially the dog." He responds in kind. He's not gonna hear the end of this, whether from himself or Loona.

Emotional Dante notes the bright light at the ooze's core and gets an idea, speaking to his other half with less sarcasm. "Remember fighting V's pets?"

To which pragmatic Dante catches on quickly. "Crack the exterior, the core starts regenerating it, we move the core to the scale then."

The two of them take their stances, guns at the ready while they wear matching smirks.

"Let's get cracking."

And with that, they begin opening fire on the black ooze.

The following scene was so filled with action, pathos and regret that words truly could not do it justice as the pair fought united once more against the unleashed darkness within the heart of the stricken creature.

So we won't even attempt to do so.

Who knew what time passed in a dream, but the pair would near enough hear a twang of a song worthy of a boss fight vanishing away behind them.

Well. To be fair, one half of Dante had certainly seen the flag for the fight mechanic from the getgo and after that, really, what else was to tell?

As the last of the black ooze bubbled and dissolved on the floor, there floated the globe of light, and amid a puddle of the black substance the cellphone began to reappear from the vanishing substance.

"Well."

"That was a flamboyantly over the top display of violence and gun-fu choreography."

The question was, now what next?

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Player Event: "Imbalance" [OPEN]

LoonB, from Stylish Action to Survival Horror

Plan B... piddle self run?

Run from angry dogs like the beginning of Resident Evil 1

Play?

Cue Dante doing his best record scratch impression

Record Switch: The Stray Dog Strut?

Gotta add Dances With Wolves to this playlist before long

SORCERY!!11!!1!

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SMASH CUT. Apologies for the tongue in cheekness here.