The twins were affected by the Mental Regression virus. Reliving their childhood before the death of their mother. When Vergil would watch over him and take good care of him. Dante relying on him for most things and loving the attention. It was a pleasant childhood. Until their mother was killed. They were ripped apart
(
Read more... )
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Trish, and it gave him composure to know that she was safe.
One of the swords sank through his shoulder as the fought, and the younger twin used it to his advantage. To Dante, it was never about accepting and not accepting, in some ways, his stubborn attitude was his greatest strength. This was about Vergil moving on. That day, standing on the edge of Hell, Vergil chose to cling to the shadow of their father. Dante, on the other hand, chose to live with it.
The spat was quick, but destructive. They left deep engravings in Trish's wall. Blood cascaded along the blade into puddles of red on the floor of the office. Dante had turned, leveling himself with the sword, cocking Ivory to Vergil's throat. "I'm not playing anymore," he said, "this'll blow your head off, you won't be able to heal from it." His grip tightened on the trigger, daring Vergil to make a move. "Do I have your attention?"
Reply
A loud cackle of electricity sparked within the guns, using it as a warning that if Vergil did anything, she would shoot him right there.
Vergil was always such a sore spot with Trish. Part of her was guilty of what she did, mainly apologetic to Dante, but a part of her wanted to punch him in the face because he constantly wanted to destroy her shop.
Reply
After years of being apart, the virus brought them back together like he wandered home. Against his will, but that's what it was. He was left to reflect on a lot of things. Family, and what that is. What they once were. Not fighting as enemies, but as brothers -- as one.
He eventually raises a blade over his shoulder but doesn't strike. He flinches to - he's aching to do it. The question still lingers: what does he wish to accomplish? Right now? He tells himself another opportunity will arise.
Reply
Dante still remembered his mistake all those years ago. This wasn't redemption, it was something he had to do.
The silence lingered around them. Dante kept his gun cocked, he knew, without glancing back, that Trish had him covered, no matter what happened. He caught the flinch, and continued to speak. "Good," his voice rumbled lowly. "I told you then, and I'll say it again. You're never going to be like Dad. Do you hear that? Does it sink in for you? Dad died, Mom died. But you know what? Vergil's still here."
Reply
With Dante's words still ringing around his ears, he was seething. Slightly baring teeth. His grip on the swords tightening. Almost shattering the hilts, drawing blood. Something to cling to while the anger subsides.
In one explosive movement accompanied by a yell, he slams the blades into the wall at Dante and Trish's sides. Any closer and they'd have come into contact with their body.
"... I am not staying," he finally managed. Arms still coated in a blue glow just incase the urge to impale something arises again.
Reply
He rolled back his shoulders (one of which was already healed), drawing back the gun in some sort of noncommittal shrug.
(As far as Trish went, he didn't seem to have a problem with her getting into family business. She was already in family business, so pushing a little further wouldn't hurt. Dante trusted her to back down if she felt that she couldn't handle it, but he knew she wouldn't. That's what he liked about her.) "Do what you want, but know that if you try anything, I'll stop you." Dante was grinned now, the enthusiastic theatre face to Vergil's deep scowl. "It's not like you have anywhere to go. I could order a pizza."
Reply
Leave a comment