Good Morning, Sunshine [log]
Who: Soren Delano [inallhonesty] and Vergil Sparda [yamato_devil]
Where: Devil May Cry, among other locations.
When: 15th December, early morning.
Summary: Soren has a problem and Vergil has a grudge. Of training, tofu and missing bottles of wine.
Notes: Hooray for me finishing two long-standing logs in one day. :D Also angst and drama free, but more humourous (and bloody). Read and comment plzkthxbai.
It was fairly early in the morning, far too early for the average teenage boy to be awake, but there was very little that was average about Soren. Walking through the ever-messy lounge room calmly, clad in his usual robes (why he wandered around wearing something as old-fashioned as robes was a mystery, but he seemed comfortable enough), he eventually paused upon reaching the kitchen, calmly beginning to prepare himself a meal. It was a rare sunny day outside, he idly noted, not that it particularly concerned him either way. He had bigger problems to mull over; namely, his exact purpose for being in the city, one that was currently being only halfway fulfilled.
Of course, the mulling could just take place after breakfast. As a rule, Soren hated eating absolutely everything and had never met a food he liked the taste of, but he wasn't stupid enough to go without eating, hence the nutritious-but-tasteless breakfast he was currently in the process of making. Glancing down as something nudged against his leg, he shot the offending dog an irritated glare, although when it persisted in this behaviour, he ended up giving up, temporarily abandoning his own meal and walking over to the shelf, taking out the box of dry dog food and pouring some into the nearby bowl. Giving the dog a final glare for good measure, Soren turned, only to find himself face to face with Vergil. (Well, it was really more like face-to-chest, given the height difference.) "What is it?" he questioned, frowning.
When he and his brother had agreed to train together more often and try out each other's methods, he had not actually expected him to get up quite as early as he normally did. It had admittedly been a nice surprise, since it saved him the trouble of having to practically shove his brother out of bed just to get him up and about at a decent time. Training with him had actually been good too, muscles he did not know he had ached painfully with every move he made and he could not remember the last time he had felt so drained. Dante brought out his competitive side, which as a result drove him to put more effort into a fight where he would normally hold back because the thing he was fighting wasn't worth the true power of a son of Sparda.
Right now I need to relax, maybe have a hot bath, settle down with a good book and a glass of wine… he glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall as he strode in. …maybe skip the wine, it's too early. Looking up as Soren entered the room, he shot him a look. "You hit me," he said coldly.
"Hm?" Soren didn't appear too interested, walking past him calmly and returning the box of dry dog food to where it had previously been before picking up where he left off with the food preparation. "Oh, that. I stopped you from committing fratricide, you do realise." He chopped up a few vegetables calmly, tossing them into the makeshift stir fry. It would be a flavourless meal, to be sure, but he wasn't exactly eating it for the taste. "If anything, you should be thanking me." Served Vergil right for dragging him out of his busy routine, anyway.
"Mm, thanking you for hitting me on the head with a candle stick. Considering that blow did not affect my brain, I'll refrain from doing so," Vergil sneered before taking the plate from right under Soren's nose, inhaling the scent of the food before taking a fork and beginning to eat, as far as he was concerned it was non-violent payback for being whacked on the head with a candle stick.
"It's uncooked," Soren warned him calmly, highly doubting Vergil would much like the taste of uncooked rice, tofu and vegetables. Due to the ingredients, the meal wasn't exactly an appetising one even when it was cooked; although Soren was probably capable of making a nice stir-fry, he rarely bothered.
Of course, he had realized this the moment he had shoved the fork into his mouth, visibly cringing at the taste and forcing himself to swallow as quickly as possible before shooting him a glare. It wasn't even the fact that it was stone cold and generally in its raw, uncooked state that bothered him the most, it was the vile… organic taste of the vegetables that was the most offensive and the fact that there wasn't anything that was sweet or savoury. "Next time, use some meat." He commented coldly, shoving the plate back at him.
"I would've added meat, but I've only been working on it for a few minutes," Soren responded calmly, taking the plate back from him as though nothing had happened. "At any rate, you should at least understand that were it not for my interference, your brother would be dead, by your own hands. Whether you appreciate my methods or not, can you really deny that I did you a favour?" He didn't really even expect Vergil to actually come around to his way of thinking, but it seemed obvious to him.
"That is none of my concern." Vergil retorted emotionlessly, not wanting to go into too much detail. There was simply no reason to get into a deep and meaningful conversation with Soren of all people about his relationship with his brother. It was strange, even though he denied his emotions so forcefully, he and Dante were on the same wavelength, somehow managing to understand each other despite what they said, part of that was probably because they were twins and half-demon at that. "It doesn't matter."
"I see." Fortunately, Soren had no interest in getting into deep and meaningful conversations with anyone, let alone Vergil. Besides, one could take the mere fact that Vergil hadn't immediately denied it as a victory anyway, not that Soren really cared either way. Calmly continuing to prepare the stir-fry, he added dryly, "What was it you wanted, aside from to tell me that I hit you?"
…Forget it. After dealing with the likes of Soren, it's never too early for wine, Vergil thought before striding past the shorter youth. "I came to retrieve the wine bottle I left here yesterday," he commented dryly, realizing that someone had tidied up the kitchen since he had last ventured downstairs the night before, albeit he had probably had a bit too much to drink last night. Most people just got hyper when they were tipsy, he got sleepy. "Where did you put it?" He questioned, assuming that since Dante had a complete aversion to cleaning and Vergil's obsessive cleaning habits only extended to his own personal space, only Soren could have possibly cleaned the rarely used kitchen.
"I don't drink wine," Soren responded flatly. He'd seen what an utter idiot alcohol made of others and never indulged himself as a result. Shaking his head and finally beginning to cook the food, he added, "Perhaps you drank it all." He was distracted now, mulling over his own little dilemma, which he deemed much more serious than Vergil's quest for grog.
Vergil frowned and began to search the various cupboards. He knew he hadn't drunk it… well, he was pretty certain at any rate. He wasn't his brother after all, meaning he did not consume an entire bottle of alcohol in one sitting, nor hold his alcohol well for that matter, but he had the confidence in his memory and self-control to be at least 70% sure that he had not drunk it himself at some point. Grumbling to himself about pesky housemates and immature borderline alcoholic brothers who could not understand the concept of property that did not belong to them, he slammed the cupboard shut in anger and shot Soren an accusing glare. "Well, no one else had it." He said darkly. It wasn't even the fact that it featured in his relaxation plans, it was just downright annoying when something that belonged to him vanished into thin air.
"And as I said, I don't drink," Soren responded frostily, crossing his arms. "I haven't got the time to waste on getting drunk and nursing hangovers." Technically, he didn't have the time to waste on breakfast, either, but he wasn't about to abandon the meal now. "So I suggest you either keep looking, accuse your brother or just go and buy a new bottle." This was one of those moments when Soren was reminded that yes, he was by far the most mature person in the house, despite being years younger. (Of course, said maturity was entirely in his opinion.)
A low growl escaped the back of his throat before he gave up on searching for the elusive bottle of wine and opened the fridge, scanning the contents with his piercing blue eyes before taking out a white box and opening it, revealing four rather large chocolate éclairs, only half-listening to Soren. "Nor do I," he commented dryly.
Given Vergil's obsessive behaviour over the wine, Soren somehow doubted that. It was lucky that Soren hated all food as a rule; a more chocolate inclined person (like Dante) probably would've 'accidentally' liberated the box of éclairs from Vergil upon seeing them, or at the very least, taken one for himself. Turning to his now-cooked meal, Soren questioned somewhat out of the blue, "Where's the best place to find demons?"
Abruptly retracting his hand from the contents of the box as he heard Soren's question, rather miffed that he couldn't even get his fix of chocolate without being disturbed, he answered sullenly. "Demons are few and far between since brother dearest sealed the gateway, but generally they lurk in abandoned buildings or a place with a steady food source," with that, he picked up one of the éclairs and bit into it, savouring the sweet chocolate taste. Swallowing, he added "Why?"
"I need to fight some," Soren responded calmly, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "They lack the same impulse and strategic patterns as humans, but short of engaging in mass-murder, they're as intelligent an opponent as I'm going to find." Which was kind of sad, really. Soren found himself wishing he had taken advantage of the amount of demons around before the gateway had closed.
Frowning and leaning against the wall, he took another bite from the éclair before answering smoothly. "For now, we're still getting calls. You could tag along provided you don't get in the way."
"If it means there are enemies to fight," Soren nodded, deciding to go along with it. Ideally, it would be better to test his skills alone, but this would save him the trouble of actually looking for demons. "It's a necessary part of my training that I've neglected," he conceded, sitting at the table and calmly beginning to eat the rather tasteless meal. It certainly didn't look any more appetising than it had when it was uncooked.
Finishing off the éclair and raising an eyebrow, Vergil calmly licked the chocolate off his fingers as though it was the most dignified thing to do in the world. "Your training?" He questioned smoothly, surprised that Soren 'trained' at all.
"The reason I'm in this city in the first place," Soren replied between mouthfuls of the meal. Realising that Vergil would probably want some kind of elaboration, he added, "I'm a strategist in training, but I work for a mercenary company. Naturally, I also need to be able to perform mercenary work as well as strategies should the situation call for it." Brushing a few strands of black hair from his face, he acted as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
Vergil frowned, the mage's reasoning was actually very logical, even if he wasn't particularly interested in the 'strategy' of battle, more interested in fighting as an art form, even a way of life rather than to be a strategist, still given Soren's build and general appearance it certainly did not surprise him that he opted for the less hands-on approach. "Fine. You can come."
Soren nodded in response; thanking people just wasn't in his vocabulary, and besides, it was a fair enough deal. He wasn't demanding any cut of the profits, and he was no novice himself, he'd be useful enough in the fray. He didn't voice this, of course, merely responding, "Tell me when a job's made available," as he took his empty plate over to the sink.
Giving him a curt nod and helping himself to the second éclair, Vergil tossed the empty box onto the counter absently. He'd throw it away later if there wasn't anything more important to do (yet there was always something more important to do than clean anywhere but his room). "I suspect it will be soon. Demons rarely stay quiet for long."
"So I've noticed," Soren replied, deciding to just lurk around the kitchen instead of bothering to depart for his room. He had a tome with him, anyway, so it wasn't as though he needed to fetch anything. "If anything, the reinforcing of the gates would probably stir the remaining demons into more violent action."
"Mm, that has been happening." Vergil answered emotionlessly, making sure there was no chocolate and cream on his fingers before raking his hand through his hair and glancing out of the window, his eyes narrowing in irritation as he spotted his brother, still training. That is not possible! I gave much more than I received in our little sparring match! How can he still have the energy to do more?!
Soren followed his gaze, idly wondering why Vergil suddenly looked so irritated and indignant, although part of his perception of that was doubtless due to his limited empathic abilities. Outside, Dante seemed rather oblivious to it all, continuing to attack the rather battered punching bag, although he stopped after a few moments, evidently resorting to the infinitely more enjoyable (in his opinion) practice of shooting bottles off a stand. One particularly familiar (and formerly missing) wine bottle was the first one to go, shattering in an explosion of glass as Dante shot it from across the backlot. The gun was currently sporting a silencer, of course, so the gunshot was barely audible.
"Dante…!" Vergil hissed, continuing to stare out of the window at his brother. If looks could kill, Dante would already be dead at least ten times over. Half tempted to throw open the back door and demand an explanation (and the money for a new bottle of wine), he managed to hold back his temper. Dante would pay, later.
Dante was blissfully oblivious; of course, because as far as he knew, the bottle of wine had just been one he'd found sitting with the various other discarded bottles of wine, ones that hadn't yet made it to the recycling bin and now never would. Soren, for his part, looked somewhat bored of the entire affair, although he was mentally making calculations on how much longer it would be before Vergil burst a blood vessel from the sheer anger of it all.
Swallowing down his anger and exhaling deeply, Vergil strode out of the kitchen and into the front room upon hearing the phone ringing, taking up Dante's position at the desk (but not propping his feet up) and answering the phone. "Devil May Cry."
He was greeted on the other end of the line by a panicked, screaming voice; no surprises there. Soren watched with mild interest, prepared if this was a job; if not, he resolved he'd just go wait in his room, as the downstairs area was, well, boring.
After only tolerating this for about a minute, he had already required all the information he needed, leaving him free to toss the receiver back onto the cradle and stand up. Entering the kitchen once again he pulled on his trench coat and grabbed Yamato from where he'd left it propped up against the chair. "Well, are you coming?" He questioned dryly.
"Mm," Soren nodded quickly, deciding that it was probably for the best that the anger explosion was postponed. Gripping the tome he was holding, he gave another curt nod, striding to the front door. A leather-bound book didn't exactly look like a weapon, but it was just the catalyst he needed.
"Try to keep up." Vergil answered flatly before he strode out of the building, knowing exactly where he was going and not bothering to slow down for anyone, let alone Soren.
Soren was quite good at keeping up, fortunately, moving surprisingly fast and keeping pace. They weren't exactly comrades in arms, but this would be good enough training for working in group battles, Soren decided, staying silent as they walked through the streets.
Vergil had to admit that he had probably underestimated Soren, surprised that he had managed to keep up. Arriving outside the old, abandoned school building, he rolled his eyes. Why is it always a school? He thought sullenly before forcing open the door and striding inside, automatically sensing a number of demons. Brilliant.
Soren's grip on the leather-bound tome in his hands tightened ever so slightly as he too sensed the demons, although his senses were a great deal less honed; he wasn't able to pick out any specific locations or numbers, only that there were multiple enemies, somewhere nearby. As he'd never really considered fighting non-human enemies before, honing that weak sensing ability just hadn't been an issue. "Any complications?" he questioned coolly, by that meaning any civilians that would need to be protected.
"No," the half-demon answered emotionlessly. At least the stupid woman had been intelligent enough to stay away from the demon-infested building, unlike so many other humans who blatantly walked into danger after calling the shop for their help. Really, stupid humans deserved death in his opinion. Tightening his grip on the hilt of his nodachi, he strode towards the winding staircase, the steps creaking underfoot.
"Good," Soren responded calmly, glancing around and watching for any sudden movements. He followed Vergil for now, although he assumed they'd split off to confront the individual enemies. (Worked fine for Soren that way; his magic generally didn't work well with swift swordsmen anyway.) "And property damage...?"
"None of my concern," Vergil answered bluntly, stopping at the top of the corridor and glancing from left to right, automatically making the decision to split up. He worked better alone anyway, he did not need a spell caster interfering. "Look around over there." He commented emotionlessly, motioning to his left before striding down the corridor.
Soren took orders surprisingly well, given his personality, although maybe it was just because he too preferred to split up. At any rate, he went left without a word of complaint, still wary of any sudden movements or suspicious noises around him, although he attempted to just blot out the auras he could sense, finding it a needless distraction.
Vergil on the other hand concentrated on the auras, focusing on the sources of power to track down where the demons had nested. It was much more practical than stumbling across something in the dark and being completely unprepared for it. Drawing Yamato out of the sheathe as the auras became stronger, he stopped outside a classroom and stood stock still, listening for the slightest of sounds before abruptly kicking down the door, a move he had admittedly learnt from Dante.
Inside the classroom was a gruesome sight, to say the least; several bodies were splayed out on the desks, their entrails in varying states of display and disarray, blood staining the floors. The corpses were long dead, at least, the smell of blood and rotting flesh thick in the air. There were only three demons in the room, but all looked at least somewhat powerful, even if they had been in the middle of feeding.
Meanwhile, appearing to be unaffected by the gruesome sight in front of him, Vergil slowly unsheathed the nodachi and moved into the room. He wasn’t even disgusted by the fact that the demons seemed to be feeding on humans, by demon terms, human meat was supposed to be more tender, sweeter (he wouldn’t know, he’d never lowered himself to that) though, interrupting their meal was going to be problematic, they were going to be angry to say the least.
Teleporting up to the light above the demons, he scanned the room quickly before cutting through the cord that suspended the light, causing it to drop onto one of the demon’s heads. Kicking off the demon, he automatically slashed at it.
The demon made a feeble, useless attempt to defend against Vergil, although one of its friends soon came to its aid, lunging at the interloper with a lethal-looking blade, either unaware or uncaring of that Vergil was half-demon and thus wouldn't be killed by a simple stab to the heart.
Distracted as he sensed an aura spike from Soren, Vergil reacted late. Raising Yamato he managed to clash it with the blade, though the second demon swiftly lunged at him, slamming him right through the wall back out into the corridor. Stupid mage… he should leave demon hunting to the demon hunters.
The demon who'd knocked Vergil through the wall gave a confident laugh (or what passed for one), gloating over his victory and moving forwards to deliver a killing blow, lunging forwards to try to decapitate him, the other demons watching, ready to step in.
Vergil automatically rolled to the side, narrowly missing being hit by the blade, though his shoulder certainly took the damage, blood oozing from the deep cut there and staining his trench coat. Flipping onto his feet, he teleported and appeared behind the demon, slashing rapidly with Yamato before teleporting again as the demon quite literally fell to pieces seconds later. Smirking confidently he twirled the nodachi in his hand before shifting into a fighting stance, his eyes locked with the other demon’s.
One of the demons appeared rather fearful despite itself, hanging back whilst the other lunged at him, viciously swiping and yelling, perhaps angry at the death of its ally. The vicious attack meant that it was powerful, but also that the demon repeatedly left itself open for attack, not caring to defend itself even as it fiercely attacked.
Teleporting as the demon lunged at him, Vergil swiftly slashed outwards with Yamato, cutting through the demon’s waist with ease and turning it to dust before he summoned his Phantom Blades, the glowing blue swords revolving around his body before abruptly vanishing and appearing around the final demon, skewering it from all sides. “Hn. How boring.” He drawled, stepping over the final demon corpse before it too turned to dust, continuing to make his way down the corridor.
*
Meanwhile, all was silent at the other end of the school, though there was definitely some kind of presence lurking in the darkness. Soren frowned, walking further through the hallway and pushing a door open to what looked like it had once been the principal's office. He didn’t bother to glance behind him; he and Vergil had only separated a few moments ago, but he wasn’t exactly concerned about the other man’s welfare.
The principal’s office had certainly seen better days, blood thickly stained the walls and the mangled, rotting corpse of the occupant hung from a ceiling light, strangled by his own intestines. He had clearly been dead for quite some time, judging from how decayed the body was. Several lesser demons were dozing in the corner, holding their scythes close. Judging from the amount of body parts in the room, they’d had quite a feast.
Soren didn't even bat an eyelid, although his grip on the tome tightened ever so slightly. "From the look of this place, I'd expected something more threatening," he admitted, shaking his head. He wasn't in the mood for smalltalk (he was highly allergic to it, actually), and he wasn't sure if demons like these ones even could talk. "Are you ready to die?" Not waiting for a response, he flicked the pages of his tome open, beginning to chant the Fire spell as his aura built up.
The demons howled in agony as the flames struck them, some dropped their scythes in the process. The flames dealt with a large portion of them, turning them to sand however, in the process it revealed much stronger demons, who had not been affected by the flames at all. Smirking toothily, one of the demons inched forward, raising its sword.
Soren dodged to the side quickly, gritting his teeth as he realised he'd made the most juvenile mistake a fighter could make; he'd underestimated his foe, and acted overconfidently as a result. I won't make that mistake again. Muttering another more powerful spell (a Thunder this time, no sense in too much conservation when his life could be on the line), he failed to notice another demon behind him until it was almost too late, narrowly avoiding getting skewered. At any rate, he ended up with a slash in his robes, the blade piercing his skin. Giving a hiss of pain, he completed the spell, flicking his wrist as the 'lightning' struck the demon who'd hit him.
Screaming in agony as the electricity ran through the demons body, it tried to raise its sword in the hopes of getting in one final attack, but was turned to dust before that was possible. Suddenly the room darkened, eerie laughter echoing all around Soren before the scrape of a scythe against the wall was audible.
Soren glanced around, eyes narrowed as he tried to ignore the pain. He'd never been very good defensively, he'd always taken hits badly, and now was no exception. Maybe it was just a low pain threshold, or an in-built biological reason, but for whatever reason, his defences were low. Still, this was mortal combat, exactly what he'd sought out. It's nothing I can't handle, he assured himself, no doubt in his mind as he strode into the lighter hallway; either the demon would sneak attack him from behind (which he was expecting) or it would have to follow him into the light. Either way, it had lost the element of surprise.
The demon appeared to be some kind of soul reaper, at least judging from its large scythe and black robes. Letting out an eerie laugh, it floated close to Soren, grinning in a rather twisted manner before raising the scythe to strike him.
Soren ducked, taking advantage of his smaller frame to actually roll under his scythe-wielding foe, continuing to mutter to himself all the while. Timing would be key; he had to stun it, then take it out, there was no allowances for letting it harm him. He was using the most powerful of spells he had on him, an Elthunder; it wasn't drastically powerful, but he'd left the heavy-duty ones at home, and using one of them would probably cause him to fall unconscious from the strain anyway. "Die," he snapped as he executed the spell, blasting the demon and being himself knocked back a few steps, leaning unsteadily against the wall as he breathed deeply, the spell having taken a lot out of him.
Covering his shoulder with his hand in the hopes of stopping the blood flow, Vergil made his way through the corridor towards the principals office, raising an eyebrow at the light show. Well, it looks like I found the mage, he thought before pushing open the door, just in time to see a rather pained Sin Scythe fly past him, howling and wailing. “Hn, are you done?” He sneered, glancing at Soren.
"Mm," Soren nodded curtly, pressing one hand to his own stomach injury in an effort to stop the blood, although he made no attempt to draw attention to it. Ignoring how tired he was from casting the high level spell, he added calmly, "It was good training, but the police will have a lot on their hands cleaning up this mess."
"We still have a demon to deal with," Vergil answered emotionlessly before shooting Soren a look. "Unless you're too tired."
"I'm fine," Soren responded flatly, shaking his head. "It won't be able to survive that spell. It has an aftershock effect. If the demon's still alive now, it won't be for very long."
Vergil raised an eyebrow, rather irritated at being outdone by a mage. "Fine. Lets go." He answered bluntly before turning away from Soren, striding towards the exit confidently, he'd had enough of the building anyway and if there weren't demons, there wasn't much point in him being here.
Soren walked after him calmly, feeling quite pleased about the day's events so far. (Well, as pleased as Soren ever felt about anything.) Granted, he'd gotten himself an injury, but he'd also gotten some proper combat training, a decidedly useful thing, and the injury wasn't anything to be too concerned about.
"I suggest when you get home, you make yourself scarce, unless you want my little brother being his usual irritating self around you." Vergil drawled as they stepped out into the street.
Since when did Soren not make himself scarce, anyway? He was no social butterfly, that was for sure. "I've got work to finish," he nodded in acknowledgement. And injuries to dress, but he wasn't going to add that part. "This was useful," he conceded, quite probably the closest to a thanks he'd ever give.
Understanding completely and nodding curtly, Vergil inspected the wound on his shoulder which was already beginning to heal. "I have other things to do. Tell Dante not to wait." With that, he teleported again.
"I'm not some message boy," Soren muttered under his breath, not at all bothered that the travelling party was now down to one. It's as I thought. Demons aren't so different from humans. They follow the same irrational strategies, the same patterns, and have many of the same biological weaker areas. They're perfect cannon fodder, but I thought it'd be more difficult somehow. Soren frowned, brushing the hair from his eyes before continuing on his way towards the shop. I wonder if I should tell Ike.
Where: Devil May Cry, among other locations.
When: 15th December, early morning.
Summary: Soren has a problem and Vergil has a grudge. Of training, tofu and missing bottles of wine.
Notes: Hooray for me finishing two long-standing logs in one day. :D Also angst and drama free, but more humourous (and bloody). Read and comment plzkthxbai.
It was fairly early in the morning, far too early for the average teenage boy to be awake, but there was very little that was average about Soren. Walking through the ever-messy lounge room calmly, clad in his usual robes (why he wandered around wearing something as old-fashioned as robes was a mystery, but he seemed comfortable enough), he eventually paused upon reaching the kitchen, calmly beginning to prepare himself a meal. It was a rare sunny day outside, he idly noted, not that it particularly concerned him either way. He had bigger problems to mull over; namely, his exact purpose for being in the city, one that was currently being only halfway fulfilled.
Of course, the mulling could just take place after breakfast. As a rule, Soren hated eating absolutely everything and had never met a food he liked the taste of, but he wasn't stupid enough to go without eating, hence the nutritious-but-tasteless breakfast he was currently in the process of making. Glancing down as something nudged against his leg, he shot the offending dog an irritated glare, although when it persisted in this behaviour, he ended up giving up, temporarily abandoning his own meal and walking over to the shelf, taking out the box of dry dog food and pouring some into the nearby bowl. Giving the dog a final glare for good measure, Soren turned, only to find himself face to face with Vergil. (Well, it was really more like face-to-chest, given the height difference.) "What is it?" he questioned, frowning.
When he and his brother had agreed to train together more often and try out each other's methods, he had not actually expected him to get up quite as early as he normally did. It had admittedly been a nice surprise, since it saved him the trouble of having to practically shove his brother out of bed just to get him up and about at a decent time. Training with him had actually been good too, muscles he did not know he had ached painfully with every move he made and he could not remember the last time he had felt so drained. Dante brought out his competitive side, which as a result drove him to put more effort into a fight where he would normally hold back because the thing he was fighting wasn't worth the true power of a son of Sparda.
Right now I need to relax, maybe have a hot bath, settle down with a good book and a glass of wine… he glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall as he strode in. …maybe skip the wine, it's too early. Looking up as Soren entered the room, he shot him a look. "You hit me," he said coldly.
"Hm?" Soren didn't appear too interested, walking past him calmly and returning the box of dry dog food to where it had previously been before picking up where he left off with the food preparation. "Oh, that. I stopped you from committing fratricide, you do realise." He chopped up a few vegetables calmly, tossing them into the makeshift stir fry. It would be a flavourless meal, to be sure, but he wasn't exactly eating it for the taste. "If anything, you should be thanking me." Served Vergil right for dragging him out of his busy routine, anyway.
"Mm, thanking you for hitting me on the head with a candle stick. Considering that blow did not affect my brain, I'll refrain from doing so," Vergil sneered before taking the plate from right under Soren's nose, inhaling the scent of the food before taking a fork and beginning to eat, as far as he was concerned it was non-violent payback for being whacked on the head with a candle stick.
"It's uncooked," Soren warned him calmly, highly doubting Vergil would much like the taste of uncooked rice, tofu and vegetables. Due to the ingredients, the meal wasn't exactly an appetising one even when it was cooked; although Soren was probably capable of making a nice stir-fry, he rarely bothered.
Of course, he had realized this the moment he had shoved the fork into his mouth, visibly cringing at the taste and forcing himself to swallow as quickly as possible before shooting him a glare. It wasn't even the fact that it was stone cold and generally in its raw, uncooked state that bothered him the most, it was the vile… organic taste of the vegetables that was the most offensive and the fact that there wasn't anything that was sweet or savoury. "Next time, use some meat." He commented coldly, shoving the plate back at him.
"I would've added meat, but I've only been working on it for a few minutes," Soren responded calmly, taking the plate back from him as though nothing had happened. "At any rate, you should at least understand that were it not for my interference, your brother would be dead, by your own hands. Whether you appreciate my methods or not, can you really deny that I did you a favour?" He didn't really even expect Vergil to actually come around to his way of thinking, but it seemed obvious to him.
"That is none of my concern." Vergil retorted emotionlessly, not wanting to go into too much detail. There was simply no reason to get into a deep and meaningful conversation with Soren of all people about his relationship with his brother. It was strange, even though he denied his emotions so forcefully, he and Dante were on the same wavelength, somehow managing to understand each other despite what they said, part of that was probably because they were twins and half-demon at that. "It doesn't matter."
"I see." Fortunately, Soren had no interest in getting into deep and meaningful conversations with anyone, let alone Vergil. Besides, one could take the mere fact that Vergil hadn't immediately denied it as a victory anyway, not that Soren really cared either way. Calmly continuing to prepare the stir-fry, he added dryly, "What was it you wanted, aside from to tell me that I hit you?"
…Forget it. After dealing with the likes of Soren, it's never too early for wine, Vergil thought before striding past the shorter youth. "I came to retrieve the wine bottle I left here yesterday," he commented dryly, realizing that someone had tidied up the kitchen since he had last ventured downstairs the night before, albeit he had probably had a bit too much to drink last night. Most people just got hyper when they were tipsy, he got sleepy. "Where did you put it?" He questioned, assuming that since Dante had a complete aversion to cleaning and Vergil's obsessive cleaning habits only extended to his own personal space, only Soren could have possibly cleaned the rarely used kitchen.
"I don't drink wine," Soren responded flatly. He'd seen what an utter idiot alcohol made of others and never indulged himself as a result. Shaking his head and finally beginning to cook the food, he added, "Perhaps you drank it all." He was distracted now, mulling over his own little dilemma, which he deemed much more serious than Vergil's quest for grog.
Vergil frowned and began to search the various cupboards. He knew he hadn't drunk it… well, he was pretty certain at any rate. He wasn't his brother after all, meaning he did not consume an entire bottle of alcohol in one sitting, nor hold his alcohol well for that matter, but he had the confidence in his memory and self-control to be at least 70% sure that he had not drunk it himself at some point. Grumbling to himself about pesky housemates and immature borderline alcoholic brothers who could not understand the concept of property that did not belong to them, he slammed the cupboard shut in anger and shot Soren an accusing glare. "Well, no one else had it." He said darkly. It wasn't even the fact that it featured in his relaxation plans, it was just downright annoying when something that belonged to him vanished into thin air.
"And as I said, I don't drink," Soren responded frostily, crossing his arms. "I haven't got the time to waste on getting drunk and nursing hangovers." Technically, he didn't have the time to waste on breakfast, either, but he wasn't about to abandon the meal now. "So I suggest you either keep looking, accuse your brother or just go and buy a new bottle." This was one of those moments when Soren was reminded that yes, he was by far the most mature person in the house, despite being years younger. (Of course, said maturity was entirely in his opinion.)
A low growl escaped the back of his throat before he gave up on searching for the elusive bottle of wine and opened the fridge, scanning the contents with his piercing blue eyes before taking out a white box and opening it, revealing four rather large chocolate éclairs, only half-listening to Soren. "Nor do I," he commented dryly.
Given Vergil's obsessive behaviour over the wine, Soren somehow doubted that. It was lucky that Soren hated all food as a rule; a more chocolate inclined person (like Dante) probably would've 'accidentally' liberated the box of éclairs from Vergil upon seeing them, or at the very least, taken one for himself. Turning to his now-cooked meal, Soren questioned somewhat out of the blue, "Where's the best place to find demons?"
Abruptly retracting his hand from the contents of the box as he heard Soren's question, rather miffed that he couldn't even get his fix of chocolate without being disturbed, he answered sullenly. "Demons are few and far between since brother dearest sealed the gateway, but generally they lurk in abandoned buildings or a place with a steady food source," with that, he picked up one of the éclairs and bit into it, savouring the sweet chocolate taste. Swallowing, he added "Why?"
"I need to fight some," Soren responded calmly, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "They lack the same impulse and strategic patterns as humans, but short of engaging in mass-murder, they're as intelligent an opponent as I'm going to find." Which was kind of sad, really. Soren found himself wishing he had taken advantage of the amount of demons around before the gateway had closed.
Frowning and leaning against the wall, he took another bite from the éclair before answering smoothly. "For now, we're still getting calls. You could tag along provided you don't get in the way."
"If it means there are enemies to fight," Soren nodded, deciding to go along with it. Ideally, it would be better to test his skills alone, but this would save him the trouble of actually looking for demons. "It's a necessary part of my training that I've neglected," he conceded, sitting at the table and calmly beginning to eat the rather tasteless meal. It certainly didn't look any more appetising than it had when it was uncooked.
Finishing off the éclair and raising an eyebrow, Vergil calmly licked the chocolate off his fingers as though it was the most dignified thing to do in the world. "Your training?" He questioned smoothly, surprised that Soren 'trained' at all.
"The reason I'm in this city in the first place," Soren replied between mouthfuls of the meal. Realising that Vergil would probably want some kind of elaboration, he added, "I'm a strategist in training, but I work for a mercenary company. Naturally, I also need to be able to perform mercenary work as well as strategies should the situation call for it." Brushing a few strands of black hair from his face, he acted as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
Vergil frowned, the mage's reasoning was actually very logical, even if he wasn't particularly interested in the 'strategy' of battle, more interested in fighting as an art form, even a way of life rather than to be a strategist, still given Soren's build and general appearance it certainly did not surprise him that he opted for the less hands-on approach. "Fine. You can come."
Soren nodded in response; thanking people just wasn't in his vocabulary, and besides, it was a fair enough deal. He wasn't demanding any cut of the profits, and he was no novice himself, he'd be useful enough in the fray. He didn't voice this, of course, merely responding, "Tell me when a job's made available," as he took his empty plate over to the sink.
Giving him a curt nod and helping himself to the second éclair, Vergil tossed the empty box onto the counter absently. He'd throw it away later if there wasn't anything more important to do (yet there was always something more important to do than clean anywhere but his room). "I suspect it will be soon. Demons rarely stay quiet for long."
"So I've noticed," Soren replied, deciding to just lurk around the kitchen instead of bothering to depart for his room. He had a tome with him, anyway, so it wasn't as though he needed to fetch anything. "If anything, the reinforcing of the gates would probably stir the remaining demons into more violent action."
"Mm, that has been happening." Vergil answered emotionlessly, making sure there was no chocolate and cream on his fingers before raking his hand through his hair and glancing out of the window, his eyes narrowing in irritation as he spotted his brother, still training. That is not possible! I gave much more than I received in our little sparring match! How can he still have the energy to do more?!
Soren followed his gaze, idly wondering why Vergil suddenly looked so irritated and indignant, although part of his perception of that was doubtless due to his limited empathic abilities. Outside, Dante seemed rather oblivious to it all, continuing to attack the rather battered punching bag, although he stopped after a few moments, evidently resorting to the infinitely more enjoyable (in his opinion) practice of shooting bottles off a stand. One particularly familiar (and formerly missing) wine bottle was the first one to go, shattering in an explosion of glass as Dante shot it from across the backlot. The gun was currently sporting a silencer, of course, so the gunshot was barely audible.
"Dante…!" Vergil hissed, continuing to stare out of the window at his brother. If looks could kill, Dante would already be dead at least ten times over. Half tempted to throw open the back door and demand an explanation (and the money for a new bottle of wine), he managed to hold back his temper. Dante would pay, later.
Dante was blissfully oblivious; of course, because as far as he knew, the bottle of wine had just been one he'd found sitting with the various other discarded bottles of wine, ones that hadn't yet made it to the recycling bin and now never would. Soren, for his part, looked somewhat bored of the entire affair, although he was mentally making calculations on how much longer it would be before Vergil burst a blood vessel from the sheer anger of it all.
Swallowing down his anger and exhaling deeply, Vergil strode out of the kitchen and into the front room upon hearing the phone ringing, taking up Dante's position at the desk (but not propping his feet up) and answering the phone. "Devil May Cry."
He was greeted on the other end of the line by a panicked, screaming voice; no surprises there. Soren watched with mild interest, prepared if this was a job; if not, he resolved he'd just go wait in his room, as the downstairs area was, well, boring.
After only tolerating this for about a minute, he had already required all the information he needed, leaving him free to toss the receiver back onto the cradle and stand up. Entering the kitchen once again he pulled on his trench coat and grabbed Yamato from where he'd left it propped up against the chair. "Well, are you coming?" He questioned dryly.
"Mm," Soren nodded quickly, deciding that it was probably for the best that the anger explosion was postponed. Gripping the tome he was holding, he gave another curt nod, striding to the front door. A leather-bound book didn't exactly look like a weapon, but it was just the catalyst he needed.
"Try to keep up." Vergil answered flatly before he strode out of the building, knowing exactly where he was going and not bothering to slow down for anyone, let alone Soren.
Soren was quite good at keeping up, fortunately, moving surprisingly fast and keeping pace. They weren't exactly comrades in arms, but this would be good enough training for working in group battles, Soren decided, staying silent as they walked through the streets.
Vergil had to admit that he had probably underestimated Soren, surprised that he had managed to keep up. Arriving outside the old, abandoned school building, he rolled his eyes. Why is it always a school? He thought sullenly before forcing open the door and striding inside, automatically sensing a number of demons. Brilliant.
Soren's grip on the leather-bound tome in his hands tightened ever so slightly as he too sensed the demons, although his senses were a great deal less honed; he wasn't able to pick out any specific locations or numbers, only that there were multiple enemies, somewhere nearby. As he'd never really considered fighting non-human enemies before, honing that weak sensing ability just hadn't been an issue. "Any complications?" he questioned coolly, by that meaning any civilians that would need to be protected.
"No," the half-demon answered emotionlessly. At least the stupid woman had been intelligent enough to stay away from the demon-infested building, unlike so many other humans who blatantly walked into danger after calling the shop for their help. Really, stupid humans deserved death in his opinion. Tightening his grip on the hilt of his nodachi, he strode towards the winding staircase, the steps creaking underfoot.
"Good," Soren responded calmly, glancing around and watching for any sudden movements. He followed Vergil for now, although he assumed they'd split off to confront the individual enemies. (Worked fine for Soren that way; his magic generally didn't work well with swift swordsmen anyway.) "And property damage...?"
"None of my concern," Vergil answered bluntly, stopping at the top of the corridor and glancing from left to right, automatically making the decision to split up. He worked better alone anyway, he did not need a spell caster interfering. "Look around over there." He commented emotionlessly, motioning to his left before striding down the corridor.
Soren took orders surprisingly well, given his personality, although maybe it was just because he too preferred to split up. At any rate, he went left without a word of complaint, still wary of any sudden movements or suspicious noises around him, although he attempted to just blot out the auras he could sense, finding it a needless distraction.
Vergil on the other hand concentrated on the auras, focusing on the sources of power to track down where the demons had nested. It was much more practical than stumbling across something in the dark and being completely unprepared for it. Drawing Yamato out of the sheathe as the auras became stronger, he stopped outside a classroom and stood stock still, listening for the slightest of sounds before abruptly kicking down the door, a move he had admittedly learnt from Dante.
Inside the classroom was a gruesome sight, to say the least; several bodies were splayed out on the desks, their entrails in varying states of display and disarray, blood staining the floors. The corpses were long dead, at least, the smell of blood and rotting flesh thick in the air. There were only three demons in the room, but all looked at least somewhat powerful, even if they had been in the middle of feeding.
Meanwhile, appearing to be unaffected by the gruesome sight in front of him, Vergil slowly unsheathed the nodachi and moved into the room. He wasn’t even disgusted by the fact that the demons seemed to be feeding on humans, by demon terms, human meat was supposed to be more tender, sweeter (he wouldn’t know, he’d never lowered himself to that) though, interrupting their meal was going to be problematic, they were going to be angry to say the least.
Teleporting up to the light above the demons, he scanned the room quickly before cutting through the cord that suspended the light, causing it to drop onto one of the demon’s heads. Kicking off the demon, he automatically slashed at it.
The demon made a feeble, useless attempt to defend against Vergil, although one of its friends soon came to its aid, lunging at the interloper with a lethal-looking blade, either unaware or uncaring of that Vergil was half-demon and thus wouldn't be killed by a simple stab to the heart.
Distracted as he sensed an aura spike from Soren, Vergil reacted late. Raising Yamato he managed to clash it with the blade, though the second demon swiftly lunged at him, slamming him right through the wall back out into the corridor. Stupid mage… he should leave demon hunting to the demon hunters.
The demon who'd knocked Vergil through the wall gave a confident laugh (or what passed for one), gloating over his victory and moving forwards to deliver a killing blow, lunging forwards to try to decapitate him, the other demons watching, ready to step in.
Vergil automatically rolled to the side, narrowly missing being hit by the blade, though his shoulder certainly took the damage, blood oozing from the deep cut there and staining his trench coat. Flipping onto his feet, he teleported and appeared behind the demon, slashing rapidly with Yamato before teleporting again as the demon quite literally fell to pieces seconds later. Smirking confidently he twirled the nodachi in his hand before shifting into a fighting stance, his eyes locked with the other demon’s.
One of the demons appeared rather fearful despite itself, hanging back whilst the other lunged at him, viciously swiping and yelling, perhaps angry at the death of its ally. The vicious attack meant that it was powerful, but also that the demon repeatedly left itself open for attack, not caring to defend itself even as it fiercely attacked.
Teleporting as the demon lunged at him, Vergil swiftly slashed outwards with Yamato, cutting through the demon’s waist with ease and turning it to dust before he summoned his Phantom Blades, the glowing blue swords revolving around his body before abruptly vanishing and appearing around the final demon, skewering it from all sides. “Hn. How boring.” He drawled, stepping over the final demon corpse before it too turned to dust, continuing to make his way down the corridor.
*
Meanwhile, all was silent at the other end of the school, though there was definitely some kind of presence lurking in the darkness. Soren frowned, walking further through the hallway and pushing a door open to what looked like it had once been the principal's office. He didn’t bother to glance behind him; he and Vergil had only separated a few moments ago, but he wasn’t exactly concerned about the other man’s welfare.
The principal’s office had certainly seen better days, blood thickly stained the walls and the mangled, rotting corpse of the occupant hung from a ceiling light, strangled by his own intestines. He had clearly been dead for quite some time, judging from how decayed the body was. Several lesser demons were dozing in the corner, holding their scythes close. Judging from the amount of body parts in the room, they’d had quite a feast.
Soren didn't even bat an eyelid, although his grip on the tome tightened ever so slightly. "From the look of this place, I'd expected something more threatening," he admitted, shaking his head. He wasn't in the mood for smalltalk (he was highly allergic to it, actually), and he wasn't sure if demons like these ones even could talk. "Are you ready to die?" Not waiting for a response, he flicked the pages of his tome open, beginning to chant the Fire spell as his aura built up.
The demons howled in agony as the flames struck them, some dropped their scythes in the process. The flames dealt with a large portion of them, turning them to sand however, in the process it revealed much stronger demons, who had not been affected by the flames at all. Smirking toothily, one of the demons inched forward, raising its sword.
Soren dodged to the side quickly, gritting his teeth as he realised he'd made the most juvenile mistake a fighter could make; he'd underestimated his foe, and acted overconfidently as a result. I won't make that mistake again. Muttering another more powerful spell (a Thunder this time, no sense in too much conservation when his life could be on the line), he failed to notice another demon behind him until it was almost too late, narrowly avoiding getting skewered. At any rate, he ended up with a slash in his robes, the blade piercing his skin. Giving a hiss of pain, he completed the spell, flicking his wrist as the 'lightning' struck the demon who'd hit him.
Screaming in agony as the electricity ran through the demons body, it tried to raise its sword in the hopes of getting in one final attack, but was turned to dust before that was possible. Suddenly the room darkened, eerie laughter echoing all around Soren before the scrape of a scythe against the wall was audible.
Soren glanced around, eyes narrowed as he tried to ignore the pain. He'd never been very good defensively, he'd always taken hits badly, and now was no exception. Maybe it was just a low pain threshold, or an in-built biological reason, but for whatever reason, his defences were low. Still, this was mortal combat, exactly what he'd sought out. It's nothing I can't handle, he assured himself, no doubt in his mind as he strode into the lighter hallway; either the demon would sneak attack him from behind (which he was expecting) or it would have to follow him into the light. Either way, it had lost the element of surprise.
The demon appeared to be some kind of soul reaper, at least judging from its large scythe and black robes. Letting out an eerie laugh, it floated close to Soren, grinning in a rather twisted manner before raising the scythe to strike him.
Soren ducked, taking advantage of his smaller frame to actually roll under his scythe-wielding foe, continuing to mutter to himself all the while. Timing would be key; he had to stun it, then take it out, there was no allowances for letting it harm him. He was using the most powerful of spells he had on him, an Elthunder; it wasn't drastically powerful, but he'd left the heavy-duty ones at home, and using one of them would probably cause him to fall unconscious from the strain anyway. "Die," he snapped as he executed the spell, blasting the demon and being himself knocked back a few steps, leaning unsteadily against the wall as he breathed deeply, the spell having taken a lot out of him.
Covering his shoulder with his hand in the hopes of stopping the blood flow, Vergil made his way through the corridor towards the principals office, raising an eyebrow at the light show. Well, it looks like I found the mage, he thought before pushing open the door, just in time to see a rather pained Sin Scythe fly past him, howling and wailing. “Hn, are you done?” He sneered, glancing at Soren.
"Mm," Soren nodded curtly, pressing one hand to his own stomach injury in an effort to stop the blood, although he made no attempt to draw attention to it. Ignoring how tired he was from casting the high level spell, he added calmly, "It was good training, but the police will have a lot on their hands cleaning up this mess."
"We still have a demon to deal with," Vergil answered emotionlessly before shooting Soren a look. "Unless you're too tired."
"I'm fine," Soren responded flatly, shaking his head. "It won't be able to survive that spell. It has an aftershock effect. If the demon's still alive now, it won't be for very long."
Vergil raised an eyebrow, rather irritated at being outdone by a mage. "Fine. Lets go." He answered bluntly before turning away from Soren, striding towards the exit confidently, he'd had enough of the building anyway and if there weren't demons, there wasn't much point in him being here.
Soren walked after him calmly, feeling quite pleased about the day's events so far. (Well, as pleased as Soren ever felt about anything.) Granted, he'd gotten himself an injury, but he'd also gotten some proper combat training, a decidedly useful thing, and the injury wasn't anything to be too concerned about.
"I suggest when you get home, you make yourself scarce, unless you want my little brother being his usual irritating self around you." Vergil drawled as they stepped out into the street.
Since when did Soren not make himself scarce, anyway? He was no social butterfly, that was for sure. "I've got work to finish," he nodded in acknowledgement. And injuries to dress, but he wasn't going to add that part. "This was useful," he conceded, quite probably the closest to a thanks he'd ever give.
Understanding completely and nodding curtly, Vergil inspected the wound on his shoulder which was already beginning to heal. "I have other things to do. Tell Dante not to wait." With that, he teleported again.
"I'm not some message boy," Soren muttered under his breath, not at all bothered that the travelling party was now down to one. It's as I thought. Demons aren't so different from humans. They follow the same irrational strategies, the same patterns, and have many of the same biological weaker areas. They're perfect cannon fodder, but I thought it'd be more difficult somehow. Soren frowned, brushing the hair from his eyes before continuing on his way towards the shop. I wonder if I should tell Ike.