In Flames (log)

[interstellar]

Who: Dante Sparda [stylishflair], Soren Delano [inallhonesty] and Vergil Sparda [yamato_devil]
Where: Devil May Cry, among other locations
When: 1st November, morning
Summary: Drama! Fluff! Gratuitous violence! Soren being amusing! (Not in that order!) I told darkslayer709 that she should give me a better summary or I'd write this. I guess she didn't think I was serious?
Notes: A log born of exam stress. Read and comment? :D

Letting out a soft groan as he forced himself to stand up, Vergil absently threw off his waistcoat and strode over to the window, his left hand automatically moving to his side where a large bruise marred his pale skin. Some time after the Halloween street parties and such had finally wound down, the demons had decided to come out to play, resulting in him being seriously outnumbered. Naturally he had dealt with them, but he had come off feeling rather worse for wear. The great majority of his injuries had healed, but his body was still aching and there were a number of bruises still visible, particularly on his back and chest.

Leaning against the wall and hissing in pain as he applied too much pressure to his injured shoulder, he observed the street below. As always, the humans had been oblivious to what had really happened that night, though given it was Halloween, even he had been somewhat surprised to see so many demons. Normally, they avoided public places like a plague when it was Halloween. To add insult to injury, when he'd finally returned home, Dante was still nowhere to be found. I'm not going to be sympathetic if he has a hangover this morning. The idiot.

Abruptly looking away from the window, he turned his attention to his right hand, which he had rather haphazardly wrapped in bandages all the way up to his elbow. Clenching his fist experimentally he began to unravel the somewhat blood-stained bandages, satisfied as he inspected his hand and arm. The wound had closed and only the thinnest of marks was still visible, though that too would disappear within the hour as would the great majority of his other injuries, even if he did feel rather sore.

Pushing away from the wall and stretching, letting out another pained hiss, he absently pulled on a shirt and swiftly slicked back his hair into its usual spikes. He hadn't even intended to fall asleep in the first place, having only sat down to rest his weary limbs, but here he was after having slept for a grand total of ten hours. Shaking his head at his own carelessness, he retrieved Yamato and his trench coat before striding downstairs, the steps creaking as always.

Odd, Dante should be up by now, he thought to himself as he padded into the kitchen.

The kitchen, surprisingly, was not empty, but rather than Dante sitting there, it was Soren. The young mage was settled at the table, evidently scrawling something out as he waiting for his meal to cool, glancing up calmly as Vergil entered. Nodding curtly, he looked back to whatever he'd been scrawling down; on closer inspection, it appeared to be a letter, although he was mostly concealing it with the way he was sitting.

"The rent is on the desk," Soren said calmly, getting that out of the way, brushing a few strands of raven hair from his eyes. "A client called when you were asleep. Check the answering machine." Like he was going to be their secretary.

Soren had had a much less eventful Halloween; aside from the quick grocery trip, it had been an uneventful night of writing out texts, translating other texts and slamming the door on trick-or-treaters. (Annoying little brats.) Dark red eyes scanned the letter before him once more before he finally seemed satisfied, folding it in half and pulling the plate towards him, beginning to eat. The letter was probably to his family, not that he'd really elaborated on them much. (The good thing about Soren as a roommate was that he possessed no desire to talk, either about himself or in general.)

Returning the nod, the only acknowledgement he actually gave Soren at that present time, he calmly slotted some bread into the toaster and picked up the mail that someone (most likely Soren) had deposited on the kitchen table, flicking through it. It was a rather odd habit he'd acquired; since he rarely associated with anyone, the people with the tendency to write letters did not know he lived there and sure enough, all of the mail was for Dante. Tossing the envelopes back onto the table, he took the toast when it popped up and spread liberal amounts of butter onto each slice before striding into the front room. He sat at Dante's desk and checking the answer machine before dialing the number and speaking with the client, not out of any particular desire, but just because it was the professional thing to do.

After determining that the problem had sorted itself out (and tuning out the verbal abuse in the process because apparently, devil-hunters should not sleep, ever) he hung up and bit into a piece of toast, examining what was on the desk. Soren's rent money was there, paid in full as always (though he had to wonder just where he got the money, since Soren didn't seem to do any actual work), but a piece of paper caught his eye. Normally he would have minded his own business and ignored it, but he recognised a few of the words that were not native to human language, so he picked it up.

His neutral mood swiftly disappeared and he abandoned Dante's desk to return to the kitchen, slamming the piece of paper down in front of Soren and cracking the table in the process. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded in annoyance.

Soren glanced down at the newly-made crack in the table, eyebrows arching. Honestly, what was it with his landlords and the destruction of their own property? To think he'd actually heard one of them wondering why they were always broke. "It's a piece of paper," Soren responded flatly, giving Vergil his perfected 'I have no interest in anything you have to say, now get off my planet' stare. Eating the last part of his breakfast, he calmly stood, holding the folded letter he'd been writing and glancing at the paper that Vergil held.

The handwriting on the paper was clearly Soren's, written out in a neat cursive, the demonic symbols appearing to fit in perfectly with the text. Judging by the actual content of the paper, however, it wasn't just some note that Soren had left lying around. It seemed fairly clear that Soren had written it out for Dante, either leaving it on his desk for him or giving it to Dante who then left it lying around. "If that's all, I'm going out. I fed the dog," he added as an afterthought.

Dissatisfied by Soren's response, Vergil automatically reached out and gripped the other's slim shoulder, pulling him back forcefully and frowning. "I am well aware of the fact that it is a piece of paper, but unless I am severely mistaken this is a list of written instructions to a ritual that will seal the gates to the demonic world," his tone alone suggested that he was rather irritated about this fact, to say the least, though he wasn't sure who to be angrier at, Soren for providing Dante with the information to do something that was completely against his wishes, or Dante for obviously asking Soren about it in the first place and even contemplating carrying it out.

In the end, he decided to be equally annoyed at both of them and abruptly dragged Soren out of the kitchen. "You're going to show me where he is," he said bluntly, leaving no room for argument as he pushed Soren outside and slammed the door behind him. This time, Dante… you've just gone too far.

Soren rolled his eyes, although he didn't bother to struggle. The grip on his shoulder was somewhat painful, although speaking up would probably just invite more ranting. Idly wondering if Vergil had remembered his keys in the storming-out process, Soren frowned at him. "It doesn't seal the gates," he said flatly, sounding as though he were talking to a very young child. "It strengthens the seal already there." Honestly, couldn't these people read? It said it on the top of the piece of paper in big printed letters.

"Are you going to storm in and stop him in some ridiculously sappy display of brotherly affection?" Soren questioned, stopping and idly putting his letter in a pre-addressed envelope. At least he'd thought ahead.

"No," Vergil answered dryly, eventually letting go of Soren once he was certain that the mage was not about to run off. He needed his hands to throttle his brother, not hold onto some scrawny teenager who had stupidly given his brother the information he needed to well and truly mess up his plans. "I'm going to kill him." It was difficult to tell if he was joking or not, due to the seriousness of his tone and his rather homicidal tendencies.

Well, murder would at least be a slightly more interesting spectacle than some sappy fluff-fest. "Fine, follow me," Soren strode ahead, ponytail flicking out behind him. They'd just make a slight detour to the postbox first, let him mail the letter. "There's little point being angry at me," he added dryly. "I didn't tell your brother about the ritual, I just translated a text he brought me and wrote it out in English."

"Hn, you could have refused," Vergil answered emotionlessly, failing to see how translating the text was any different to giving his brother the information on a silver platter and encouraging him to do it. "Idiot. Just show me where he is so I can put a stop to this nonsense and hopefully beat some sense into him in the process." Dante, when I find you, you'll have a lot of explaining to do. The gates are required to have the weak seal, otherwise how else am I going to fight Mundus?

Soren realised now that he'd inadvertently stepped into what was obviously a point of contention between the brothers; Dante had mentioned vaguely that Vergil shouldn't find out about what happened, but he'd never said anything to this extent. "Exactly what's wrong with strengthening the seal to the gates?" he questioned dryly. "Isn't the entire point of your mission to eradicate all the hostile demons within the city?"

Stupid kid. He doesn't know anything, the half-demon thought irritably before nudging him forward again, keeping Yamato concealed beneath his trench coat as they walked down the street. "I'm not prepared to discuss that with the likes of you. Considering you are neither a devil-hunter nor a member of my family, it is none of your concern." And yet he pokes his nose into my business and inadvertently helps Dante mess up my plans. I'll kill him after I'm done with Dante.

"And it's none of my concern whether you find your brother and have out your little conflict," Soren replied simply, stopping outside the post office and calmly depositing his letter in the postbox. "I don't really care either way, I just wanted to know why I'm being dragged across town." Thoughtful pause. Oh, wait, Vergil had that ridiculously illogical revenge trip, didn't he? That explained it. "Forget it."

"Show me where Dante is." Vergil retorted bluntly. He wasn't about to share his life story with some mage, but right now he needed Soren to tell him where Dante was so he could proceed to stop him from making what he believed to be a terrible mistake. If that required violence, then so be it. Nothing was going to get in the way of his plans, not even his twin brother.

"He left early in the morning, we're probably already too late," Soren pointed out calmly, walking away from the post office, sorely tempted to just take the long way back home. No, he didn't really fancy being stabbed to death by an irate landlord, and besides, the sooner they got their stupid macho conflict over with, the sooner they could resume leaving him alone. "Fine, it's this way."

Focusing more on plotting for Dante's demise, Vergil remained silent as Soren began to lead him down various streets, not even really paying attention to where he was going, simply following the shorter boy, he figured it would be easier that way anyway.

Soren resisted the temptation to lead Vergil in an elaborate circle, although he did take the long route; really, it was more in his interest for Dante to succeed with this ritual than for Vergil to interrupt. Eventually, he led him to what appeared to be an old church, mostly broken down, it didn't appear that mass had been held there for a very long time. "In there," Soren gestured to the doorways. "But like I said, don't be surprised if it's too late. It's not a long ritual, and he left early."

Brilliant, it would have to be a church. I've had enough of churches to last a lifetime, he thought to himself sullenly, striding past Soren and pushing open the door which seemed to be hanging off one of its hinges.

The church certainly appeared dilapidated, dusty and inhabited by spiders, but there was also a certain half-blood demon hunter standing at the altar. Turning on his heel, Dante's face fell somewhat as he saw his brother, although he didn't seem overly surprised, seeing Soren behind him. Soren, for his part, just offered a small shrug, holding up the piece of paper. "It's too late to stop it," Dante gazed at his twin, although he grasped the hilt of Rebellion nevertheless. "Which is what you want to do, right?"

Smirking rather cockily as his brother addressed him, Vergil gripped the hilt of Yamato tightly. For a moment, he stood stock still, merely taking in his surroundings before his gaze settled on the equipment on the floor. "Well, at least you got that part right," he sneered, taking a step forward and ignoring the creaking floorboards beneath his feet. "Of course, you should have informed me about this, it's just common courtesy. Still, it can't be helped." Judging from his tone of voice, he was far angrier than he outwardly appeared. "You're so determined to get in my way, aren't you?"

"You're self-absorbed, Vergil," Dante said flatly, for once appearing the more grim and serious of the two, his face set in a tight frown. "This isn't anything to do with you, but I figured you couldn't just use your head for once and keep out of it." Tightening his grip on Rebellion's hilt, he glanced around the church. Everything was set in motion, now all he had to do was wait and hope it worked. "If I'd told you, you would've either stopped me or killed me in my sleep. I know you."

Soren glanced from one to the other, eventually deciding that he might as well stick around to see if the landlords killed one another (did that mean he inherited the shop?), sitting in the back pew.

"Then you should have known that I would find out, dear brother," Vergil retorted calmly, raising Yamato and pressing the tip against Dante's throat. "Considering that you and I both have an interest in the gateway, you should have consulted me before interfering with daddy's work. After all, I have just as much interest in the stability of the gateway as you do, admittedly for very different reasons," he took another step closer, forcing the sharp tip of his nodachi further against his brother's neck, though intentionally avoiding drawing blood. That could wait. "We're twins, did you honestly think you could keep something like this from me?"

"If I hadn't left that rough draft on the table, you would've had no idea," Dante pointed out flatly. By the time he'd realised he'd forgotten to get rid of the paper, it had been too late, and he'd reasoned that he'd have time to get everything done. He'd been right, at least mostly. Abruptly raising Rebellion and knocking the nodachi away, lightly rubbing his neck with his free hand, he responded coldly, "There was no point in consulting you. You've pretty much proven you can't be trusted in things like this."

"So, just like that, I get absolutely no say on the matter?" Vergil questioned, raising an eyebrow before adding in a rather patronising tone "I am hurt, dear brother. To think we share the same blood, yet you go and do something like this behind my back," he narrowed his eyes and recovered, twisting Yamato in his hand and clashing it with Rebellion, his face contorting a little as he applied more of his strength, forcing Rebellion away. "Tch, it's foolishness, Dante. We both have an interest in keeping the gateway weakened, without the demons, where will you make your money?"

"There'll still be plenty of demons," Dante frowned, applying force right back and letting the swords clash, the two deadlocked as he glared at his twin. "Unlike you, brother, I'm not a selfish moron." Well, he had a selfish streak and he'd done some admittedly moronic things, but this didn’t fall into either category. "Just don't interfere, Vergil. Don't fuck this up."

"I'd say this is pretty selfish, Dante," Vergil sneered, placing the palm of his hand against the smooth edge of Yamato, pushing against it to increase the pressure on Rebellion. "You know what I've wanted and you're prepared to shut off my only opportunity to have what I want. I have no intention of letting you do this."

"Sorry, brother," Dante shook his head, managing to match the force, gritting his teeth. It was clear to him from the start that Vergil wasn't going to make this easy for him, but he was feeling somewhat drained from the entire ritual experience. "I guess when it comes down to it, I'd rather the whole planet not be overrun with hell's nastiest than you get your chance at suicide."

Abruptly swiping Rebellion away with Yamato, he pressed the tip against Dante's neck once more. "It is not suicide, and if you would only think about it for a second you would realize that. I am more than capable of holding my own in a fight."

"Not a fight with the lord of hell," Dante retorted, pushing Yamato away and frowning. This was something they were doomed to completely disagree on, but there was too much at stake for him to just let his twin have his way. "What, you gonna kill me to stop this?" he questioned coldly. "That how obsessed you are?"

Choosing to ignore the second half of what Dante had to say, Vergil smirked sadistically and calmly lowered Yamato, adjusting his stance. "Perhaps, you'll just have to fight me and hope for the best, dear brother."

"Yeah, I thought so," Dante shook his head, ignoring the somewhat cold feeling as he moved into a combat stance. Really, it was unavoidable that it would come to this. Usually, Dante had enjoyed fighting his twin, but this was serious, this was life or death. Whether he'd regret it later or not, there was no reason to think that Vergil wouldn't resort to killing him to stop the ritual (as, realistically, that was probably the only thing that would stop it, at this stage). "Let's just get this over with so I can get back to my ritual."

Automatically darting forwards, Vergil made no attempt to even conceal what he was about to do, drawing Yamato back and abruptly stopping dead in his tracks, slashing outwards in the process. Whilst he doubted that he would actually kill his brother over something like this, he was angry enough to come close to it.

Dante dodged to the side, dodging the attack and slashing at his twin with Rebellion, at least trying to make his movements more subtle with a feint to the left. "Gotta point out, I doubt the old man would be too impressed with you trying to stop this," he drawled. Even as he fought, he could feel his energy being drained as the ritual took effect, although he didn't let on. "I thought you were meant to be the good son."

Tilting his upper body backwards to avoid the attack, Vergil narrowed his eyes in annoyance and batted Rebellion out of the way with Yamato, summoning several Phantom Blades that hovered over his shoulders. "Don't try to bring father into this. He will be just as angry with you for interfering with the gates."

"Probably," Dante agreed, frowning. The old man would probably expect him to just screw it up. The thought wasn't overly troubling (admittedly, Dante didn't do much to try and disprove the appearance that he was an immature and selfish idiot), but there wasn't much point denying it. "Still, it's not like you're interfering for the right reasons or anything."

"Clearly you and I have very different opinions of what a 'right reason' is," Vergil sneered before lunging at his brother again, the Phantom Blades shooting forward as he moved elegantly and slashed at Dante's chest with the nodachi.

Blood spattered across the church floor as Dante failed to dodge the strike, instead using the opportunity to strike back at Vergil, slashing at his twin's side. He gave a hiss of pain as the strike hit deep, but didn't otherwise react, glaring at Vergil and dodging the Phantom Blades. "You're this selfish?" he questioned. "You're willing to sacrifice everything just for your stupid revenge?"

Hissing in pain as the broadsword cut into his side, Vergil glowered at his brother and pulled Yamato back, only to abruptly thrust it forward in the hopes of impaling him. "I'm not sacrificing anything. Your logic is flawed."

Dante gasped as the nodachi impaled him through the stomach, going right through, although he gritted his teeth and struck at him with Rebellion instead of trying to pull away. "The world's gonna end up overrun," Dante snapped, glaring at him. "If the gates come all the way open -and they will if someone doesn't stop it-, then you can kiss this entire city goodbye!"

Yelling out in pain as Rebellion was plunged into his abdomen, he doubled over and loosened his grip on Yamato slightly, though he kept his gaze focused on Dante. "Regardless, I have to avenge her and no one is going to stand in my way. Mundus will die at my hands."

"Sorry, brother," Dante shook his head, twisting the blade, something that took a lot of effort in itself. He was running on pure adrenaline now, his energy being sapped by the ritual even as it was sapped by combat. Still, he just needed to last a few more minutes, the ritual was nearly over. "But that's not happening any time soon."

Vergil's face contorted in pain as blood splattered into the floor. Reacting swiftly, he abruptly pulled Yamato out of his brother's stomach before slashing across his chest and driving it forwards again, satisfied as the blade ran right through his body. "No one can stop me. I've wanted this for too long and no one is going to take it from me! Not even you."

Dante grinned recklessly at him even as blood poured from his wounds, staining the church floor. Slashing forwards with Rebellion, he declared loudly, "It's too late! It's already taken effect. Brother, you can run off on your suicide fight all you want, but you're not dragging the rest of the city down with you. No way, I can't let you."

Glancing behind Dante as he noticed the alter glowing, he narrowed his eyes furiously and took several steps back, easing Rebellion out of his abdomen before yanking Yamato out of his brother's chest. Moving swiftly, he teleported to Dante's left and slashed with Yamato again. "Idiot! You shouldn't interfere!"

Dante shielded himself with Rebellion even as a faint glow surrounded his body, the amount of energy being drained too much for him to really have enough to spare to make another assault. "You're the one who's interfering!" Dante snapped in response.

Teleporting again as his strike failed, Vergil panted softly and tightened his grip on Yamato, slashing rapidly to create multiple purple spheres where Dante was standing before darting forwards and moving the nodachi in a strike that would certainly be fatal, his anger overriding his few morals and overall judgement.

Dante glanced up, his eyes widening as he realised both that the strike would be fatal, and that he simply couldn't dodge or parry it. "Oh shi-"

He was cut off by an almost deafening crack of thunder, Vergil abruptly being struck from behind by what could only have been magic. Seconds later, Vergil suffered a second attack, albeit a less dignified one as Soren abruptly hit him over the back of the head with a metal candlestick. Given that it was, after all, formerly housing one of the church's larger candles, it was very heavy and very painful, even though Soren wasn't exactly the strongest person around. Soren wasted no time in turning on his heel, calmly striding back to the pew where he'd been sitting, robes and ponytail flicking out behind him. The mage sat down as though nothing had happened, his eyes calmly scanning the book he'd been looking over. (Given that it was a church, the fact that it was a Bible was unsurprising.)

The moment that first strike had connected, Vergil's steps had faltered though before he could even react the candlestick had come down on his head, hard. For a brief moment, he stood stock still, his eyes rather glassy whilst his grip loosened on Yamato, seconds later he had collapsed flat on his back with a thud, blood oozing out of a large cut on his head. The candlestick rolled across the floor and came to rest at Dante's feet.

Dante just blinked, staring for a moment. Of all the possible scenarios that could've come out of that, Soren hitting Vergil over the head with a candlestick just hadn't occurred to him. He gave the mage a questioning look for a moment but shook his head, forcing himself to stand and staggering over to the altar, leaning over it heavily and calling out the final words (he'd wisely written all the demonic words out phonetically), wincing as the pain intensified. For better or worse, though, the ritual had worked, the pain a final proof. As the final words were uttered, the supernatural glow intensified and a powerful aura radiated from the altar before there was a blinding flash and the church was plunged into darkness once more.

Soren, meanwhile, glanced over at Vergil, debating whether to heal him with a stave or just let the other man's healing factor look after it. He'd probably made an eternal enemy of his landlord, not that he particularly cared. Letting Dante's little ritual go ahead was decidedly to Soren's advantage, and besides, it would teach Vergil to drag him around town like some loyal pet.

Dante stood still for a moment, silently recovering strength before glancing behind him, gazing at his unconscious brother for a moment. He was really gonna... ah, it's not that surprising. He gets pretty out of control when he's pissed off. "Take him home, will you?"

Soren glanced up from the Bible, shooting Dante a withering glare. "You expect me to be able to carry him?" he retorted coolly. Honestly, Vergil was almost a foot taller than him and probably weighed a good amount more, too, and Soren had never exactly been physically strong, his powerful magic a tradeoff for his weaker body. Shaking his head, Soren stood and dropped the Bible onto the pew, turning. “I’m leaving,” he said flatly before walking out the doors. He’d wasted enough time here.

It was probably good for Soren's sake that the half-demon was still unconscious, as he rarely took personal insults very well and even if the mage had not meant it in an insulting way (highly unlikely), Vergil still would not have been very impressed by the statement. Letting out a low groan he shifted a little, turning his head to the side and opening his eyes, though he still seemed to be very out of it, not to mention in a fair bit of pain.

"Morning, sunshine," Dante rolled his eyes, gazing at his brother. He was still in a bit of pain, leaning against the altar, although the worst of it had passed and he could feel his energy slowly returning. (He still wanted to go home and sleep for about a week, though.) "You ready to go home, or should I just leave you here or something?"

Letting out another groan, he covered his eyes with his palm. He felt rather unwell, the feeling made worse by his splitting headache, though it seemed that the anger had seeped out of his system. "Ugh, where am I?" He questioned, in a daze as he slowly sat up, looking around.

"It's only been a few minutes," Dante shook his head, sitting on the altar, glancing at the candlestick lying discarded on the ground below. "You missed the end of the ritual," he added, grinning. Dante - 1, Vergil - 0. Most of his wounds were still bleeding, although he was just trying not to focus on it, not bothering to dress them. The pain did admittedly detract from the feeling of triumphant satisfaction, though.

Realizing that he was still in the church and that the gates were officially, well and truly sealed, Vergil did not really know what to think or say on the matter, since there was nothing he could actually do about it now, despite how infuriating that was.

"What, cat got your tongue?" Dante questioned, eyebrows arched as he gazed at his brother, crossing his arms. "I figured you'd be ranting your head off at me now, what gives? Or is this just the silent treatment?" he snorted, standing shakily and leaning against the altar instead, still rather unstable on his feet, the blood loss and energy loss getting to him.

Vergil glowered at him as he forced himself to stand, his head pounding painfully as the rest of his body ached. "Shut up!" He snapped in annoyance, gripping his head and placing his palm against the wall to steady himself. "I am in no mood to listen to your childish gloating so just shut up."

"You're one to talk about childish gloating," Dante muttered, shaking his head and walking past him, still somewhat unsteady as he leant against the side of the first pew. "You coming home?" he questioned, glancing over his shoulder at his twin. He doubted he'd be hearing the end of this any time soon.

Clenching his fist in anger as Dante strode past him, Vergil gripped his shoulder. It infuriated him how easily his brother was capable of turning the conversation around, as though the events didn't even matter. "To think, you are supposed to be my twin. You know what I have wanted to do, and the moment the opportunity is within my grasp, you cut off the access!" His voice was laced with anger and disgust, though he was still rather affected by the blow to his head. "You didn't even consult me about it, you left me in the dark to pursue your own little project. I'm not the only selfish one here Dante. Because of you, Mundus is still alive."

"If I'd consulted you, you would've stopped me," Dante said after a moment, closing his eyes as he felt a stab of guilt. "Look, you think I didn't want to tell you? I thought about it, a lot, but I couldn't risk you stopping me." Really, he felt that it was to his credit that he didn't bring up a certain rather more dangerous ritual Vergil had initiated without taking the time to inform him. "Not saying I'm not selfish, but I did what I had to do."

"And prevented me from doing what I had to do in the process." Vergil answered in annoyance, not allowing Dante to get out of it that easily.

"It's not like you've lost the chance forever," Dante shook his head, lightly gripping his amulet. "Don't forget. The gateway's not closed to us, we've got the keys."

Vergil glowered at him. "Fine. Then give me your amulet." He commented dryly, not expecting Dante to even consider doing that, but saying it merely to prove a point. "I know you wont, thus you have completely cut me off."

"Do you think I don't want revenge or something?" Dante questioned after a moment, glancing at him. "You think I don't think about it every day, every single time I kill some weak demon, you think I don't consider going after their boss? You're not the only one dedicated to revenge. Might not be as vocal about it, but I want it just as much as you, and I'm just as intent on getting it."

"Hn, that I doubt." Vergil retorted dryly before letting go of his brother's shoulder and turning away. "Forget it. I'm not in the mood to argue with you."

Dante's eyes flashed angrily, but he kept it restrained for now, shaking his head. "Doubt it all you want, but just hear me out."

"Fine," Vergil answered dryly, folding his arms. "I'll listen to you."

"We've both got the keys, I say we both go after him," he said after a moment, staring out the open door of the church. It was storming outside (typical of the city), and he'd probably wind up shot down in flames, but it was worth a try. "Not now, you can think what you want, but neither of us are strong enough now. I want my revenge, I want him dead, and you obviously feel the same way."

Vergil glanced at him. He had never considered teaming up with his brother as he generally worked alone anyway when he wasn't seeking out his father for more weapons training or spending time with Yuna, so he had never questioned the simple fact that he and he alone would be the one to kill Mundus, not out of some kind of ego thing, but simply because Sparda had already done it once and Dante had never expressed a real interest in it.

He gripped his amulet tightly. "You never talk about it."

"It's not really my style," Dante responded simply, shrugging. "...whether you agree with the method or not, killing demons is my training. Makes me stronger, faster, know my opponent's strengths and weaknesses. What I'm training for, the only thing I'm training for, is to kill him. It's pretty much the focus of everything I've done since that day. Just waiting for my moment. Before... I wasn't strong enough," he shook his head. "But it's getting too dangerous to leave the gateway like it was. We've got the amulets, we can go through any time." Gripping his amulet and keeping his gaze on the storm outside, he added in a somewhat subdued tone, "Don't think it's not important to me, it is."

Vergil hesitated. Large emotional conversations were not really his thing but in this case, he actually found that he and Dante were very similar, at least in regards to why they originally started fighting. "I wanted to protect her," he admitted emotionlessly. "My whole life has revolved around training and becoming strong enough to take him on."

"...same," Dante admitted stiffly, shaking his head, his hair falling in his eyes. "Guess at first it was more about just killing as many of them as I could, but... after awhile, I realised I had to kill him. All the others are just training, just to get stronger. Going after him and killing him's always been my intention, ever since that day."

"You and I clearly have two different ways of training," Vergil answered after a moment, remembering all too well when he had accused his brother of not bothering to train. "You should have told me that you wanted the same thing."

"There didn't seem a point at the time," Dante answered, being uncharacteristically careful in choosing his words; his usual tendency was to say exactly what came to mind when it came to mind, but this seemed to require a bit more consideration. "I wasn't even close to being strong enough to go after him." Privately, he'd also figured it could turn into Vergil protesting that only he had the right, or something stupid like that, but he didn't bother voicing that part. "Probably should've," he conceded. "Just never seemed a good time to mention it."

"Yes, you should have." Vergil answered emotionlessly before shaking his head, deciding that it would be best to simply dismiss it. Dante had not told him, it was not necessarily the end of the world, just irritating. "You and I should train together. I could teach you the displacement technique," he offered calmly, though he did feel rather embarrassed just for suggesting it.

"...yeah, alright," Dante agreed after a moment, nodding. They rarely trained together, even the days when they sparred together (with varying degrees of actual intent to harm) had faded away, but it made sense. The conversation was probably just going to get more embarrassing, so he added, "We oughta spar later or something." He wasn't about to admit it, but he was still beyond exhausted from the ritual, his wounds taking longer than normal to heal due to the energy loss. "Anyway, just... think about it," he gave a nonchalant shrug.

Vergil gave him a curt nod. "I want to spar with you when you're at your best, so rest when we get home. I have no interest in sparring with someone who will be holding back." As though to back up his point, he moved over to support his brother, leading him out of the church.

Dante scowled, pulling away, although he didn't seem angry, retorting with a grin, "At least I didn't get knocked out by some scrawny kid holding a candlestick, brother. That's a pretty shameful defeat."

His twin promptly narrowed his eyes. "Bring that up again, and I will kill you," he answered, though it was clear that he was only teasing. His head was still aching from the blow and he didn't feel particularly well. "Perhaps we both need a rest," he conceded.

"If we're getting our asses kicked by rituals and Soren," Dante agreed, more amused than anything. (After all, being weakened by a known side-effect of a ritual was nowhere near as embarrassing as being hit over the head with a candlestick.) "Ah, relax, I won't tell if you don't. Figure no-one aside from us needs to know about the ritual." Sparda would probably want to know, but that was his problem, not Dante's. (Besides, ignorance was bliss.)

"I do have to wonder just what Father would think about it all," Vergil mused rather thoughtfully, running his fingers through his blood-soaked hair and stretching. "Perhaps we shouldn't tell him immediately," he added, which was rather surprising as he was normally the one who didn't like going behind Sparda's back. "It will only make him feel insignificant and useless."

"Insignificant and useless?" Dante's eyebrows arched. "What, because he never got the bright idea to just strengthen the gateway?" Really, it was kind of embarrassing that it had taken eight months for any of them to think of it. (Kind of destroyed the myth that demons were inherently smarter than humans, for one thing.)

"Well, he was the one who sealed the gates the first time and he defeated Mundus. It will probably trouble him that we were the ones who ended up fixing the whole mess." Vergil answered truthfully before glancing at Dante, stiffening a little and changing the subject. "If you wanted, you could borrow Force Edge."

Dante looked somewhat intrigued by the prospect; the blade certainly had felt natural to wield the lone time he had, he'd been able to adapt his style to it easily. "Yeah, alright," he nodded. "Might as well try it out for a little while, it's a good weapon." Looking thoughtful, he added after a moment, "What the old man doesn't know won't dent his stupid pride."

Hesitating, Vergil gave him a curt nod before moving over to help him walk once again, not particularly caring whether Dante wanted the help or not. For Soren's sake, it would probably be for the best that he hid, for Vergil was not in a particularly good mood with him. "We should probably tell him eventually, though."

"Why?" Dante shrugged, not particularly wanting to accept the help, although he was still feeling somewhat dizzy from the blood loss. They were almost back anyway, it wouldn't be too much longer. "He's all wrapped up in this new born-again Christian fad, isn't he? Just let him sing his hymns or whatever makes him happy, he probably won't even notice the difference."

"Mm," Vergil looked away, clearly still somewhat affected by the whole thing. Though he had mostly kept it to himself, he was not pleased that his father had become a born again Christian just to get into God's good books. He should just accept that there is no place for a demon in Heaven. I accepted it.

"Don't let it get to you," Dante shook his head after a moment, glancing at his twin. Dante himself was less bothered by the entire affair, figuring that if his father wanted to have that naive false hope, it was really his own business. (Of course, Dante held firm to his opinion that it wasn't anything more than false hope.) "It's just his latest fad, he'll get over it in a few months. The man can't hold a serious interest to save his life." Admittedly, that was probably where Dante got it from.

Vergil smirked at that, unable to help but feel reassured by Dante's comments. "True. Perhaps this is why you've never been able to stick at one thing. I remembered that closet mother had for all of your past 'fads', it was a very big closet. I think the only hobby you've ever stuck to is your guitar. Guns don't count and nor does devil-hunting."

"Guns are a legitimate hobby," Dante crossed his arms sulkily, but he had to concede the point, even if he did grumpily add, "I still play the drums!" (Typically, the hobbies that he'd kept with were the ones that allowed him to make the most possible noise. He could play guitar and drums alike quite decently, though, even if he hadn't played as much as of late. The guitars and drum kit had the distinction of being the only items in the shop that were actually insured.) "Anyway, it's healthy to try new things, get new experiences and all that. Just be happy I'm not abandoning all my worldly possessions and joining the priesthood or something, the old man seems about ready to do that."

"Mm, thankfully father has already given me the only possession he has that actually matters," Vergil answered emotionlessly. Of course he was talking about Force Edge, since the only photograph he knew existed of their mother was currently on his brother's desk. "Perhaps we should warn him about cults."

Really, Dante wasn't sure if the idea of Sparda joining (or worse, leading) a cult was amusing or just kind of disturbing. They'd probably all worship tea and wear monocles or something. "Nah, let him find out for himself," Dante shook his head. "It's the only way he'll learn."

"He still hasn't used the internet since he accidentally found all those porn sites." Vergil answered thoughtfully, running his fingers through his matted hair again before pushing open the front door of the Devil May Cry building. "Right. You're going straight to bed, you look terrible."

Dante rolled his eyes. "Careful, brother, you're letting your mother hen side show." (Dante didn't even know Vergil had a mother hen side, but it was certainly an amusing prospect.)

Vergil shot him a look. "Hn. Only you would be foolish enough to even think such a thing. Now go, I won’t tell you a third time." With that, he let go of his brother and strode towards the bathroom, he really wanted to wash the blood out of his hair. Yet another shirt Dante's ruined as well, he thought to himself, glancing at the large holes and blood stains on his shirt before shaking his head. I'll use some of the rent money to get a new one.

Thankfully, Dante managed to resist the urge to stay up just to spite his brother. "Just take a message if anyone calls," he shrugged, glancing upstairs, leaning against the wall. Reasoning that it would be extremely embarrassing to fall down the stairs, he instead decided to just slump on the couch, using his bloody trenchcoat as a makeshift blanket and making himself quite comfortable.

Watching him leave and satisfied that even if Dante did not necessarily sleep, he would still be resting, he padded into the bathroom and shut the door, turning on the shower and peeling off his blood-drenched clothing before unwrapping the bandages as well, stepping into the shower and arching his back as he felt the warm water against his skin, easing his aching muscles. It's been a very, very strange day and I'm… rather tired, he admitted to himself as his hair fell limply around his face, the water turning pink in colour as the blood began to wash off.

Dante did lie on the couch peacefully, at least for the first five minutes. When the phone rang, however, he scowled, taking it as a premonition and sitting up slowly, glaring daggers at the phone as it continued to ring shrilly. Screw that, he thought to himself, irritated as he forced himself to stand, stumbling to the stairs and leaning against them heavily. Unfortunately for Dante (particularly his pride), his earlier judgement about there being a strong chance of him falling down the stairs had been overwhelmingly correct. With a surprised "FUCK!" as his legs abruptly gave out beneath him, he ended up a pained and embarrassed pile at the bottom of the stairs, wincing. It hadn't been that painful, but it was rather humiliating. "Stupid damn ritual," he muttered to himself.

Hearing the loud crashing and swearing from outside, Vergil rolled his eyes and finished up in the bathroom before striding back into the lounge, holding the tattered remains of his shirt in one hand. Unlike his brother, he did usually dress more modestly and even now in the privacy of their own home he felt rather odd to be walking around without a shirt on, thankfully his pants had been salvageable with only one tear just above his knee, so he'd absently thrown them back on, the shirt was ruined though.

"Dante, is all that noise really necessary?" He questioned emotionlessly, raising an eyebrow at his twin before shaking his head and striding into the kitchen, tossing the ruined shirt into the trash before getting a bottle of wine, a bottle of whiskey and a wine glass before returning. Dante would drink from the bottle, he knew that already.

"Shut up," Dante grumbled, standing and leaning against the wall heavily, wishing he'd just unplugged the phone instead of taking an ungraceful dive down the stairs. Half-stumbling over to the couch (although he at least attempted to make it look like he was walking normally), he sat down heavily, still feeling dizzy. He was still in his heavily ripped and bloody clothes, the aftereffect of the ritual having prevented him from doing much aside from slumping on the couch.

Striding over to the phone and picking up the receiver, Vergil sneered, "Call back tomorrow," and promptly dropped the receiver back onto the cradle and unplugged the whole phone, almost ripping out part of the wall in the process due to how violently he tugged it. Shaking his head dismissively, he calmly moved over to the couch and nudged Dante's legs out of the way before sitting down, offering him the bottle of whiskey before he could even think of complaining.

Dante took the whiskey, finding it made up for the indignity of being partially ousted from his couch. Taking a few long gulps from the bottle, he added as an afterthought, "Doubt it was important." He looked rather wearied, slumped on the couch, although the whiskey helped. (Whiskey helped with everything. Whiskey, ice cream, tomato juice and pizza were the four forces that would solve all the world's problems.)

"Even if it was, I don't care," Vergil answered truthfully as he attempted to relax on the couch after pulling on his trench coat to at least partially cover his bare torso, pouring himself a glass of wine afterwards. "Humanity can deal with its problems alone tonight."

"I'm sure they'll survive," Dante agreed dryly. He was all for helping those in need (for a nice fee) and whatnot, but everyone needed a day off. "Probably just 'closet monsters' again or something." They'd been getting a spate of calls lately that had been paranoid people rather than any actual danger; it was tiresome, as the people often didn't pay in advance and wouldn't pay once they found out the truth.

"If it is serious, I am sure that their survival mechanisms will kick in eventually. Not even humans are stupid enough to hang around if there is a demon present, they'll be fine," Vergil commented dryly, raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip before adding smoothly. "You look tired."

"The ritual drains energy," Dante elaborated, glancing at him and drinking some more of the whiskey. He wasn't planning on getting absolutely stone cold drunk, but a bit of whiskey never hurt anyone. (Well, not directly.) "The energy drain's enough to kill a human, but my guess was that the healing power would get me through. Looks like I was right." He'd been literally gambling with his life, but it had paid off, so there was no harm.

Vergil shot him a look. "Idiot. Whilst you were correct, you shouldn't have taken a risk like that without researching it properly first. It could have killed you." Deciding to immediately drop the subject before he would appear too concerned, he ran his fingers through his damp hair and sipped the wine again, looking rather tired himself.

Dante rolled his eyes. Honestly, why did everyone assume that he hadn't researched it properly? "Yeah, well, it paid off, so no harm no foul, right?" he gave a little shrug. "Guess it's just the perks of being a half-blood. These rituals don't kill you." Glancing at him, he added, "You look tired, what's your excuse?"

"Demons," Vergil answered emotionlessly And the fact that I haven't had a decent sleep in eleven days. The fact that he had slept the night before really didn't count since it had been unintentional and he'd felt worse after waking up. Ten hours simply wasn't enough when he'd gone for so long without sleeping. "It doesn't matter," he added flatly.

"There was trouble last night?" Dante inquired, admitting, "I was out getting stuff ready for this most of the night, that and I got called out to a job, genuine one." Evidently the demon-free status of Halloween hadn't stopped one particular nest of demons from wreaking all manner of havoc.

"Big trouble," Vergil admitted wearily, though he tried to hide just how tired he was. He still didn't know why the demons had been so active during Halloween, normally they avoided it as much as possible. "I dealt with it, don't worry."

"You look like shit," Dante drawled, gazing at his twin. They probably looked as weary as each other, both drained from their respective experiences. "Go get some rest," he added, loosely gesturing to the stairs.

Vergil shook his head, sipping the wine before answering, "I'll manage. There is nothing to concern yourself about."

"You look dead on your feet," Dante snorted. "Let's face it, brother, if all it took to knock you out was some lightening and a candlestick, then you're obviously not at your best."

"Shut up," Vergil responded bluntly as he glared at his brother, irritated more at the fact that Dante was actually right. It shouldn't have been so easy to knock him unconscious and the whole event had seriously damaged his pride and the back of his skull, which was still giving him a headache.

"Wait here," Dante instructed flatly, getting up and venturing in what had become his usual half-stumble to the bathroom, retrieving the bandages and returning. "You're gonna end up bleeding all over the place if you're not careful, hang on."

Vergil raised an eyebrow and ran his fingers through his hair, frowning at the blood that he found on his hand. "Damn it." He really didn't know what was wrong, normally he would have healed the injury by now. Unless Soren had actually managed to crack his skull, as bones took longer to heal even with his powers, but it seemed unlikely that the mage would be able to break anything, let alone crack his skull.

"Just hold still," Dante instructed flatly. "Your healing's probably low because you're tired, same thing's happening to me," he admitted, binding the bandage tightly around his brother's head, although he did manage to resist the urge to 'accidentally' gag or blindfold him. "Just go get some rest, I'm gonna crash here."

Hesitating for a moment, he eventually gave him a curt nod and drank the rest of the wine that was in his glass, leaving it and the bottle on the coffee table and standing up, unable to completely disguise his pain as virtually his entire body ached painfully. "Night, then." He offered stiffly before striding upstairs, gripping the banister rather tightly in order to support himself.

Dante blinked, glancing over the back of the couch, mainly watching to see if his brother would actually fall. (It wasn't completely out of the question.) It would present the problem of who got the couch if they were both stuck downstairs. Thankfully, Vergil did not fall, though the banister gave a particularly loud creak of protest at having a great portion of his weight (and strength) inflicted upon it.

Dante sat there for a few minutes before eventually getting to his feet, deciding that a midday snack (because it was still the middle of the day, after all) would be perfect before sleeping. (Fortunately, Dante had no trouble sleeping during the day, he was capable of falling asleep in virtually any circumstances.) Leaning against the counter heavily, he rummaged around, eventually finding some pizza to heat up in the microwave.

Unfortunately it seemed as though Dante would not be able to enjoy his little snack alone. Having decided that he was too hungry to actually sleep just yet, Vergil had thrown on a rather tight black t-shirt that he'd forgotten he had and calmly strode back downstairs, entering the kitchen and raising an eyebrow. "You're supposed to be resting."

"So are you," Dante retorted, rolling his eyes and resting heavily against the counter. He did look a wreck, not even bothering to hide his tiredness, but he had a motto of 'never go to sleep on an empty stomach'. "I'm having some pizza, grab yourself something if you want," he gave a little shrug.

Striding past his brother and wondering how he could eat that revolting thing he opened the fridge and took out the box of cream donuts he'd left in there, out of the pair it was safe to say that Vergil probably had more of an addiction to sweet things than Dante and it easily rivaled his brother's pizza obsession.

"Surprised you don't get more into Halloween, brother," Dante drawled, withdrawing the newly-microwaved pizza and letting it cool for a few moments, making himself comfortable. "You never thought about scoring all the candy?"

"I'd rather keep my dignity," Vergil answered emotionlessly before frowning, realizing just what Dante was actually implying "Hn, before you draw attention to what I eat, look at your own diet. It's hardly balanced." With that, he bit into one of the cream-filled donuts.

Dante rolled his eyes. "I never said there was anything wrong with it." Honestly, Vergil read into things way too much, it had just been a harmless suggestion that his brother take advantage of the one night of the year when you could get candy for free.

Rolling his eyes, Vergil absently licked the cream out of the middle of the donut before answering, "This is a rather strange day, huh?"

"That's an understatement," Dante drawled, taking a small bite of the pizza and scowling. Still too hot. "You spoken to the old man lately?"

"Not since he left Force Edge to me," Vergil answered truthfully, eating the rest of the donut before taking out another one and nudging the box over to his brother. "I think he has a lot on his mind, he's been rather distant lately."

Dante took a strawberry donut, taking a bite and giving a little shrug. "He's always distant," he pointed out, rolling his eyes. "And flaky. He's probably just distracted with this religion thing or something. Has he even picked a denomination?"

"Not that I am aware of," Vergil answered truthfully, eating the second donut and running his fingers through his hair. "A part of me still wants this to just be a phase."

"Relax, I'm sure it is," Dante shrugged, eating some more of the pizza. "Misha or someone probably just put some idea in his head about heaven and he's run with it. He'll come to his senses eventually." The concept that anyone with demon blood running through their veins could get into heaven was just plain foolish. "No point letting it bother you."

Vergil gave him a curt nod before standing up, he really did not want to continue talking about Sparda's new 'religion', it all seemed too alien to him and it was a change that he certainly didn't like. Picking up the box of donuts, he turned away. "I'm going to turn in, remember to plug the phone back in." With that he strode out.

Dante blinked. "Something I said?" he muttered, shaking his head, finally walking after him, pulling him back. He wasn't exactly interested in having some great sibling heart-to-heart (he'd rather just sleep), but it seemed prudent to say something. "He'll get over it, just try and forget about it. You're bothered he's not training you, huh?"

"Yes," he admitted after a moment's hesitation. It was an awkward situation and he really doubted that his selfishness was going to help, but he felt as though he had caught the raw end of the deal now that Sparda would no longer be training him. "How am I supposed to get stronger if I have no one equal or greater in strength to train with?"

"I'll train with you," Dante shrugged nonchalantly, taking this opportunity to grab a donut from the box, looking rather self-satisfied. "Killing demons is decent training, but it's not like any of them can really match up to me." They'd trained together when they were young, but as their relationship had become more hostile, training had turned into serious mortal combat.

"I'll take you up on that," Vergil answered automatically before taking out another donut, leaving it on the table for his brother before turning away once again. "I'll get some rest now. I suggest you do the same once you've finished in here. I don't like facing opponents that have a handicap, it isn't honorable and it doesn't result in an accurate display of strength."

"Yeah, alright," Dante agreed, deciding to dare another attempt at the stairs in favour of sleeping in his own bed rather than on the (uncomfortable and kind of lumpy) couch. "Tomorrow morning," he shrugged. Really, he was somewhat surprised how easily that had gone. "Train, take a couple of jobs and train some more?"

"If you think you can keep up," Vergil teased. Since he and Dante had very different methods of training, he had a feeling that his own brand of training would be rather taxing on someone who was not used to it, even his own brother, but then again he did train until he was too exhausted to actually stand, only interrupting this training to go out on jobs.

"Sounds like a challenge," Dante grinned. He was confident that he could keep up; after all, he could keep up with killing demons for hours and hours on end, it wouldn't be too much more taxing. Besides, blending each of their styles of training would be mutually beneficial. "You're the one with the worse stamina out of the two of us anyway, brother."

Vergil shot him a look, clearly he didn't want nor need attention to be drawn to that little fact. "It is to be expected, I am faster than you are."

"If it makes you feel better..." Dante gave a little shrug, still grinning. "Anyway, should be pretty good. Winner of the first match gets to use Force Edge for the rest of the day." It seemed a minor motivation to him, but it would probably be more meaningful to his brother. At any rate, there had to be some prize for winning a match, even something like that.

Sure enough, it did appear to motivate his brother, who promptly turned away from him. "Then I do believe that Force Edge will be in my hands for the remainder of the day, dear brother."

Dante rolled his eyes, flicking his hair back. "Just keep telling yourself that," he drawled. "Anyway, get some rest or something, I'm gonna." Rituals were tiring, after all, particularly rituals designed to drain energy.

"I will." Vergil answered emotionlessly before taking another donut out of the box and taking a large bite, striding upstairs. Even though he'd only eaten the equivalent of approximately 1378 calories so far, he felt a lot better.

Dante strode after him to his own room, pleased when there were no repeats of the previous stairs-falling incident. Running a hand through his hair and pausing in the doorway to his room, he glanced to his twin, nodding. "Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow." Vergil agreed before finally retiring to his own room.