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[color=a9a9a9][b]Location: City Ruins[/b][/color]
[b][color=a9a9a9]Mentions:[/color][/b] [@tipssyCalibrator]
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As the Doomslayer slain yet another Hellknight under his metal foot, he looked up to see a bunch of skull-faced scythe wielders running straight towards him. The first one made a low-handed strike, only for the armored marine to leap and knee him straight in the jaw before punching his downed head. The second tried getting him from behind, only for the Slayer to swerve around and blast his supper shotty into his chest. Then the third one came, in which the Slayer would also try to shoot as he aimed it directly at his face...

[i]*Click click*[/i]

Until realizing he was completely out of ammo. For most soldiers, this would be a nightmare in the making - being surrounded by enemies and having used all of your ammunition in the process. But as the Slayer demonstrated prior, he doesn't solely rely on guns or any weaponry. And even then, he had a much simpler plan in getting back all that precious ammo he knocked into these demons. 

So as the Hell's Pride lunged with his scythe, the Slayer gripped onto its weapon's handle and kicked the minion away from him. And as it laid reeling on the ground, the marine then took the opportunity to swiftly decapitate him in a brutal slash. While these weapons were definitely great for reaching opponents from reasonable distances, they were more elegant and swift weapons compared to what he was used to. 

He didn't like that.

He wanted something with more power, more "umph" to it.

He broke the weapon with his knee before proceeding to take out his own melee weapon. With two powerful tugs, his black-and-yellow chainsaw came to life, before the Slayer proceeded to lunge at a nearby Hellknight and slice into its flesh in a gory and messy fashion, feeling the flesh rip and the bones shred and snap underneath. 

Oh how he almost forgot how much of a great communicator it was.

And when he sliced the demon in half, out spurted definition not just the demonic blood of his enemy, but yellow bits that each represented the ammo that the Slayer desired. Indeed, his chainsaw was to be used in situations of need; for whenever he would be low on ammo, this baby would regain all that was pumped into these demons before hand. 

Now with a relatively full clip, the Slayer revealed his Super Shotty once more and continued blasting at his foes. As he was doing so, Dante would then call out to him, asking for something:

[quote=Dante][i]"Yo, crazy soldier guy! Toss me that shotgun! Y'know, the one you aren't using!"[/i][/quote]

As he crushed an imp's windpipe with his massive armored gauntlet, he turned to him briefly as he seemed to contemplate on whether or not he'd want to. Despite his skepticism towards his newfound "ally", he would shrug as he whipped out his regular combat shotgun and tossed it at the red-coated warrior. The Slayer would only point both of his fingers towards him, as if he was watching him, before continuing on his demonic massacre. 

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[b][color=6ecff6]Location:[/color] Snowy Forest --- Eltariel's Tower[/b]
[b][color=6ecff6]Mentions:[/color][/b] [@Zoey Boey]
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But the creature that Eltariel saw was gone. She would notice that the massive saurian body had completely vanished, yet she would also notice that there were no foot prints to pinpoint its direction. It was as if the beast would've magically disappeared. Had it truly disappeared without a trace? Perhaps the snow covered up its tracks over the course of the several hours she laid in between the fabric of death and dormancy? 

However, if she were to look at her tower, the elf would find something else resting at the base of the tower. It was a large muscular man, one who despite the lack of appropriate clothes for this environment, appeared to be sound asleep. His midriff, upper arms, thighs and feet were all exposed to the winter cold, yet he seemed to remain impervious to frostbite. His long black hair coiled around the base of his feet, with blue streaks emanating from the tips of his rich hair. He wore clothing that included an armored spiked vest, with a basic scaly-coated skirt wrapped together by a thick strand of rope. His lower arms, hands, shins, and feet were also covered by draconic-pieces of what had to be a form of armor.

Anything could be going within her mind as she watched him sleep soundly under the tower, but he didn't seem to stir. Would Eltariel dare to approach the man or perhaps leave him be?