[the pungent scent hits him almost immediately; klaus's hands lift up, cover both his mouth and nose like it'll help, even though the further he walks, the stronger it seems to get. it's overpowering to the point he ends up stopping a couple times during the trek, propping against a nearby dilapidated building, attempting to catch his breath, although to no avail. try as he might, it's no use, so instead of continuing to waste time lingering around, he takes the deepest breath possible and continues onward, one hand still cupped over his face in spite of himself.
and just when he thinks he won't be able to stand it anymore, the source is revealed. huge, grotesque vines covered in disgusting bloodbags and dangerous-looking thorns with corpses impaled on them. much as the tiny voice in the back of his head tells him to, klaus forgoes touching any of the dead bodies, puts his head down, keeps moving along the path before anything else can distract him from the task at hand.
stumbling across the destroyed city with the qliphoth rising up from its remaining depths is a lot more heartstopping than he'd expected. none of this is anything he would've anticipated, but regardless, he adjusts the armor protecting his upper-half, goes for the largest knife strapped to his side and tucks himself behind the nearest cover, peeking out every few moments to examine the spread of demons.
whoever may be nearby, his unoccupied hand might gesture toward them, coax them over to where he's hiding or perhaps gesture for them to get down before they're seen.]
ring ring ring; (the obligatory payphone option)
[you better believe that when he stumbles across the payphones, klaus's first instinct is seeing if they actually work. thankfully, the one he finds isn't in an area that's got too many monsters crawling about; so, without overthinking it too much, he slips into the booth, plucks up the phone, gives it a once-over.]
Shit, I don't have any change for this thing... [which shouldn't matter, considering asgard's never had that kind of thing. still, it makes him wonder, has him curious about how well a payphone will actually work without any way to call out.
just as he hangs it back up, the faint sound of ringing catches his attention, causes him to lift the receiver to his ear and ask,] Uh, hello?
traversing the red path; (closed to dante)
[even decked out in partial armor and wielding a large dagger in his left hand, klaus had been easily recognizable. beneath the protective covering, he's wearing all black; a long-sleeved shirt with a high collar and pants that sit close enough to his skin, he won't end up getting caught on anything or if someone (something?) tries to grab him, he'll at least have a chance to get away.
but no matter what he's wearing, there are distinct wet marks of blood where he's been fighting creatures alongside the demon-hunter, messy splatters across his boots from the squishy skin-earth beneath them.] So, was it always this [pause] nasty when you were fighting demons back home? The flesh ground is a bit much if I do say so myself.
[not that it matters, he's never seen their actual homeworld, has no idea what it might actually look like and honestly? if it does have this weird, demon-filled landscape all the time, dante and the rest of his family are a helluva lot tougher than he ever will be and he's not afraid to admit it.]
boss faito;
[whenever the demons begin to frenzy at the loss of their blood tree, klaus can't help watching, thoroughly amused despite the severity of the situation. one large monster wielding a pair of wicked scissors comes toward him, aiming to catch him off-guard, but he makes quick work of it with the throwing knives and his telekinesis.]
Nice try, though.
[wasn't there always a reason he'd been told not to gloat? from his peripheral, he sees another monster coming toward him, swinging an overly large scythe right toward his legs. without really thinking (because that'd just waste time), klaus leaps into the air, activating his god powers again to hold him aloft, widened eyes watching the curved blade narrowly miss him by inches.] Well, goddamn, it's just a party now. [then he kicks off the caina's head, unbalancing it, knocking the thing to its knees.
how unfortunate, the weapons he's wielding are not all that good for decapitating. so, as it stands, he'll have to continue levitating here and there, ineffectively stabbing it in the back. at one point though, he gets his hands on the scythe it's holding, puts all his strength into fighting for control of it. if he can just disarm the damn thing, he could use its own oversized sickle against his foe—
unless someone happens by that could help him? because that'd be convenient, too.]
wildcard;
[ooc: even though he wasn't really keen on the idea, going straight for the source is what klaus's doing, meaning he's taken the red path! anybody is welcome to encounter him there or before splitting off or even during the departure! literally, if these prompts aren't to your liking, hit me with something else!!]
klaus hargreeves ☂ ota (unless marked otherwise)
[the pungent scent hits him almost immediately; klaus's hands lift up, cover both his mouth and nose like it'll help, even though the further he walks, the stronger it seems to get. it's overpowering to the point he ends up stopping a couple times during the trek, propping against a nearby dilapidated building, attempting to catch his breath, although to no avail. try as he might, it's no use, so instead of continuing to waste time lingering around, he takes the deepest breath possible and continues onward, one hand still cupped over his face in spite of himself.
and just when he thinks he won't be able to stand it anymore, the source is revealed. huge, grotesque vines covered in disgusting bloodbags and dangerous-looking thorns with corpses impaled on them. much as the tiny voice in the back of his head tells him to, klaus forgoes touching any of the dead bodies, puts his head down, keeps moving along the path before anything else can distract him from the task at hand.
stumbling across the destroyed city with the qliphoth rising up from its remaining depths is a lot more heartstopping than he'd expected. none of this is anything he would've anticipated, but regardless, he adjusts the armor protecting his upper-half, goes for the largest knife strapped to his side and tucks himself behind the nearest cover, peeking out every few moments to examine the spread of demons.
whoever may be nearby, his unoccupied hand might gesture toward them, coax them over to where he's hiding or perhaps gesture for them to get down before they're seen.]
ring ring ring; (the obligatory payphone option)
[you better believe that when he stumbles across the payphones, klaus's first instinct is seeing if they actually work. thankfully, the one he finds isn't in an area that's got too many monsters crawling about; so, without overthinking it too much, he slips into the booth, plucks up the phone, gives it a once-over.]
Shit, I don't have any change for this thing... [which shouldn't matter, considering asgard's never had that kind of thing. still, it makes him wonder, has him curious about how well a payphone will actually work without any way to call out.
just as he hangs it back up, the faint sound of ringing catches his attention, causes him to lift the receiver to his ear and ask,] Uh, hello?
traversing the red path; (closed to dante)
[even decked out in partial armor and wielding a large dagger in his left hand, klaus had been easily recognizable. beneath the protective covering, he's wearing all black; a long-sleeved shirt with a high collar and pants that sit close enough to his skin, he won't end up getting caught on anything or if someone (something?) tries to grab him, he'll at least have a chance to get away.
but no matter what he's wearing, there are distinct wet marks of blood where he's been fighting creatures alongside the demon-hunter, messy splatters across his boots from the squishy skin-earth beneath them.] So, was it always this [pause] nasty when you were fighting demons back home? The flesh ground is a bit much if I do say so myself.
[not that it matters, he's never seen their actual homeworld, has no idea what it might actually look like and honestly? if it does have this weird, demon-filled landscape all the time, dante and the rest of his family are a helluva lot tougher than he ever will be and he's not afraid to admit it.]
boss faito;
[whenever the demons begin to frenzy at the loss of their blood tree, klaus can't help watching, thoroughly amused despite the severity of the situation. one large monster wielding a pair of wicked scissors comes toward him, aiming to catch him off-guard, but he makes quick work of it with the throwing knives and his telekinesis.]
Nice try, though.
[wasn't there always a reason he'd been told not to gloat? from his peripheral, he sees another monster coming toward him, swinging an overly large scythe right toward his legs. without really thinking (because that'd just waste time), klaus leaps into the air, activating his god powers again to hold him aloft, widened eyes watching the curved blade narrowly miss him by inches.] Well, goddamn, it's just a party now. [then he kicks off the caina's head, unbalancing it, knocking the thing to its knees.
how unfortunate, the weapons he's wielding are not all that good for decapitating. so, as it stands, he'll have to continue levitating here and there, ineffectively stabbing it in the back. at one point though, he gets his hands on the scythe it's holding, puts all his strength into fighting for control of it. if he can just disarm the damn thing, he could use its own oversized sickle against his foe—
unless someone happens by that could help him? because that'd be convenient, too.]
wildcard;
[ooc: even though he wasn't really keen on the idea, going straight for the source is what klaus's doing, meaning he's taken the red path! anybody is welcome to encounter him there or before splitting off or even during the departure! literally, if these prompts aren't to your liking, hit me with something else!!]