The Morning After Last Night [log]
Who: Dante [stylishflair] and Vergil [yamato_devil]
Where: Devil May Cry. Specifically, the lounge room.
When: Sunday May 6th, 10am.
Summary: Featuring hungover Vergil and (less) hungover Dante. In which after a night of emotional revalations that Vergil doesn't remember at all, Dante attempts to help Vergil solve his romantic problems. (Or maybe he just wants to cause trouble/embarrass Vergil. Jury's out.)
Notes: Dark and I actually debated for ages whether to even post this because it's so short, but eventually decided that it should be posted because it was too fun to just throw by the wayside. XD;
It was on mornings like this that Vergil really had to wonder just how his brother managed to talk him into doing idiotic things that he would no doubt regret. His head was pounding, he felt horribly lethargic and to top it all off, he had no idea how he had spent the last eleven hours. What happened last night? He thought as he forced himself to sit up slowly. That action alone made his stomach churn, and for a brief moment, he considered simply going back to sleep for a few more hours. It was already 10am, though, and it was highly unusual for him to be in bed now so he doubted he'd really be able to feel sorry for himself in peace.
Of course, this wasn't the first time nor probably the last he had woken up in such a state. As always, Dante was to blame. Dante was always to blame, preying on the moments when his self-control was less than perfect and talking him into doing stupid things that he could never remember doing in the morning. It was Dante who always re-filled his glass so, in his mind Dante was entirely to blame for the whole situation. Just how much did I drink?
Letting out a sign and rubbing his forehead, he pushed himself out of bed and retrieved a shirt from the floor, too hungover to care about the fact that it no longer had sleeves due to the material being used as a makeshift bandage. He wasn't used to feeling so lethargic, even when he avoided sleep for days on end, so he could blame Dante and the alcohol for that as well.
Eventually leaving his room after making himself look at least somewhat presentable (he wouldn't allow Dante to think that he was actually hungover), he strode downstairs looking rather worse for wear. To add insult to injury, Dante was probably going to be his usual, irritating, energetic self even though he would have had to have more to drink than he had last night.
Dante glanced up from where he was lying on the couch. As Vergil had predicted, he looked much less affected by the alcohol. It was a combination of his superior physical endurance and good old-fashioned alcohol tolerance that caused Dante to be able to drink his brother under the table and still wake up (relatively) fine in the morning. Fortunately, he never had to worry about Vergil making many loud noises, given that his brother was probably ten times more hungover. Sipping at a cup of coffee he'd made himself, he merely gestured around the room, supplying, "I cleaned up," in a mixture of annoyance and triumph, if such a mix were possible.
The room did look slightly disheveled, showing all the signs of it being messed up and Dante applying his own brand of sloppy clean-ups. Dante's personal favourite cleaning tactic was to shove everything underneath couches and the like; hide the mess rather than actually fixing it. Judging by the fact that he'd pointed it out (and that the table looked like it had been nicked by a katana blade), Dante probably hadn't been the cause of the mess. "There's coffee in there," gestured vaguely to the kitchen, putting his coffee cup down.
Merely grunting in response, Vergil strode past his brother into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. It really was an injustice when his younger-by-five-minutes twin brother was completely unaffected whilst he felt so terrible. He had noticed the rather sloppy attempt at a clean up, but he had also noticed the damage to the coffee table so he decided not to be too critical. Though really, it was Dante's fault, since if his brother hadn't somehow managed to get him drunk, then the mess wouldn't have been made in the first place.
Returning to the front room with a cup of coffee, Vergil sank wearily into the chair, rubbing his forehead gently as he tried to shake off how ill he felt. He wasn't in the mood for anything loud or obnoxious, which probably meant that Dante should have left the room five minutes before he'd entered.
"So what're you gonna do?" Dante questioned bluntly, eyeing his brother with mild curiousity. The question seemed completely random, but from the expression on Dante's face, it had some kind of context. Sitting up on the couch, he yawned, rubbing his eyes before reaching again for the cup of coffee, still watching Vergil for a reaction.
Vergil grimaced a little as his brother spoke and gently set down the cup of coffee before he glanced up, taking a moment to think about what Dante had said before he eventually replied, "What exactly are you talking about?"
"Last night," Dante rolled his eyes, as though it should have been perfectly obvious. He fell silent for a moment before a thought occurred to him and he smirked slightly. "You do remember, don't you?" he questioned in amusement.
"No. I don't." Vergil responded emotionlessly, although there was only one person to blame for that and he was staring at him right now. I should have known not to overestimate your intelligence, dear brother. Deciding that Dante was just trying to take advantage of his current condition and get him to say something embarrassing, Vergil stood up. He didn't need his twin to fill in the blanks from last night, especially when he couldn't trust that his dear brother would tell him the truth.
Dante blinked, looking surprised by this turn of events. "You don't...?" He looked rather puzzled as to what to do, staring down into his empty coffee cup as though the truth would be magically revealed. (Dante did tend to act rather odd when hungover.) Finally, he concluded, "That doesn't matter," and glanced up at Vergil. "Go shower, then we'll get going."
Hn. At least he dropped it, Vergil thought, although now a part of him was actually curious to know what had happened last night. Really, it would be foolish of him to even ask, for one thing it would show that he actually did care about something that was just pointless, whatever he might have done or rambled about last night had no impact on his life when he was sober and besides, actually asking Dante would lead to trouble as he would just feed him a string of lies and laugh behind his back. He didn't feel like making an idiot out of himself today. "Fine," drinking the rest of the coffee and standing up, he moved over towards the stairs.
"…what was I talking about, last night?" Damn his curiosity, it always seemed to win in the end.
Dante grinned, leaning over the back of the couch and drawling, "What you've been moping about for weeks," he responded matter-of-factly, seeming unaffected by all the movement, or perhaps years of hangovers had just taught him more effective pain management skills. "What else?"
It took Vergil a moment to process the information before he let out a groan, rubbing his forehead again. Yuna. I can't believe I spoke about Yuna, to Dante of all people whilst I was drunk. He still had no idea what he had told his brother, but if Dante was actually bringing it up then it was probably incredibly embarrassing. "Does it matter?"
"After last night?" Dante gave Vergil a bemused look as he got to his feet. "Definitely." Sauntering to the kitchen door and turning, he added, "Go shower, then we'll go." In his mind, he was just doing his brotherly duty (and protecting their remaining furniture) although he doubted Vergil would see it that way. Vergil was always so much more reasonable when he was drunk off his head.
"What did I say?" Vergil demanded, not liking where the conversation was going. Dante definitely knew something that he did not and he was beginning to think he had gotten rather… emotional last night, which was probably why his brother was enjoying himself so much.
"Trust me," Dante replied with a Cheshire grin. "You don't want to know." Relaxing as he leant back against the wall, hands in his pockets and head tilted back slightly, he continued, "Don't worry, I'll help you out."
Frowning at him, Vergil eventually relented and strode upstairs to take a shower, hoping that it would at least help him overcome the terrible hangover and possibly remember what had happened at the same time. Dante with power was never a good thing.
By the time Vergil returned from his shower, Dante appeared to have gotten changed, microwaved a slice of pizza and was in the process of making another feeble attempt at cleaning up the devastated lounge room whilst eating said slice of pizza. Sometimes, he wondered why they bothered having furniture at all. At least he didn't trash the kitchen. And people accused Dante of being the destructive one.
Even though Vergil despised pizza, the smell alone was making him feel both hungry and queasy at the same time. Striding into the front room and wrinkling his nose a little at the offending pizza slice, he fixed his brother with a stern look, feeling slightly better now that he'd showered. "So where exactly are we going?" He questioned. Wherever it is, I hope it has chocolate.
Dante rolled his eyes, swallowing the last of the pizza before responding, "Yuna's place. Duh." Abandoning the futile attempts at cleaning, he seemed wholly unaffected by the look his brother was giving him (most other people probably would've wet themselves or fled by now).
"And why exactly are we going there? She's not on speaking terms with me," Vergil responded, not sounding too bothered by this little detail, though there were few things that made him express emotion other than anger. "It isn't important."
"It seemed pretty important to you last night," Dante commented, crossing his arms. He knew he'd meet with resistance at some point. "Besides, what kind of brother would I be if I just let you continue on moping around and feeling sorry for yourself? At this rate, you're gonna end up dying your hair black and starting to cut yourself. Just be a man about it and get it over with."
"I was drunk last night, thanks to you," Vergil answered in annoyance, not willing to let Dante have his way quite that easily. "People say foolish things when they're drunk and whilst I may not remember what I said, I know it wasn't something to be taken seriously." He chose to ignore his brother's last comment.
"People do, but you don't," Dante said firmly. If nothing else, Vergil was an honest drunk. "You never say anything you don't mean, you just say stuff you wouldn't normally say." Where most people said cruel things they normally held back when they were drunk, Vergil did the opposite. Vergil would probably equate it to being half-demon; Dante equated it to Vergil being an asshole. "Face it, you want to make up with her and we both know it."
"You've been making too much of a habit out of this if you can honestly say you know how I behave when I'm drunk," Vergil responded, still rather unwilling to accept that he had said anything out of the ordinary. If Dante was talking about things that he wouldn't normally say, then it had to be something related to his accursed human side. "Besides, you'd be wrong. I've heard you ramble enough times to know that drunks spout nonsense."
Simply ignoring the personal insult for now, Dante retorted, "Drunks do, but you don't. You've been wanting to talk to her ever since she kicked you to the curb, are you actually that intimidated by her? She's about five two and she hits like a girl. Stop being such a stubborn idiot and grow a pair."
"I am not intimidated by her," Vergil immediately retorted, wondering what he had done to deserve being hounded by his brother about his love life… again. I don't even know what to say to her. I didn't know that man, his life was worthless to me, he thought, maintaining his composure. It didn't help that he still had no idea just how much he had told his brother.
"Then why are you too chicken to even go and see her?" Now he was just plain goading Vergil into action, a tried and true tactic that backfired as much as it worked. In a few minutes, he’d either end up victorious or a bloody heap on the floor. "If you wait too long, you might miss your chance."
"I'm not chicken. It just isn't going to accomplish anything," Vergil retorted before eventually relenting. "I'll try it your way. But nothing is going to happen."
Victory. "Well, something's gonna happen," Dante rolled his eyes, walking towards the door and glancing back at his brother. "It's just whether she's gonna welcome you back with open arms or slam the door in your face."
"Thanks, I feel so much better now." Vergil responded sarcastically before catching himself and immediately falling silent, following Dante out of the shop.
Where: Devil May Cry. Specifically, the lounge room.
When: Sunday May 6th, 10am.
Summary: Featuring hungover Vergil and (less) hungover Dante. In which after a night of emotional revalations that Vergil doesn't remember at all, Dante attempts to help Vergil solve his romantic problems. (Or maybe he just wants to cause trouble/embarrass Vergil. Jury's out.)
Notes: Dark and I actually debated for ages whether to even post this because it's so short, but eventually decided that it should be posted because it was too fun to just throw by the wayside. XD;
It was on mornings like this that Vergil really had to wonder just how his brother managed to talk him into doing idiotic things that he would no doubt regret. His head was pounding, he felt horribly lethargic and to top it all off, he had no idea how he had spent the last eleven hours. What happened last night? He thought as he forced himself to sit up slowly. That action alone made his stomach churn, and for a brief moment, he considered simply going back to sleep for a few more hours. It was already 10am, though, and it was highly unusual for him to be in bed now so he doubted he'd really be able to feel sorry for himself in peace.
Of course, this wasn't the first time nor probably the last he had woken up in such a state. As always, Dante was to blame. Dante was always to blame, preying on the moments when his self-control was less than perfect and talking him into doing stupid things that he could never remember doing in the morning. It was Dante who always re-filled his glass so, in his mind Dante was entirely to blame for the whole situation. Just how much did I drink?
Letting out a sign and rubbing his forehead, he pushed himself out of bed and retrieved a shirt from the floor, too hungover to care about the fact that it no longer had sleeves due to the material being used as a makeshift bandage. He wasn't used to feeling so lethargic, even when he avoided sleep for days on end, so he could blame Dante and the alcohol for that as well.
Eventually leaving his room after making himself look at least somewhat presentable (he wouldn't allow Dante to think that he was actually hungover), he strode downstairs looking rather worse for wear. To add insult to injury, Dante was probably going to be his usual, irritating, energetic self even though he would have had to have more to drink than he had last night.
Dante glanced up from where he was lying on the couch. As Vergil had predicted, he looked much less affected by the alcohol. It was a combination of his superior physical endurance and good old-fashioned alcohol tolerance that caused Dante to be able to drink his brother under the table and still wake up (relatively) fine in the morning. Fortunately, he never had to worry about Vergil making many loud noises, given that his brother was probably ten times more hungover. Sipping at a cup of coffee he'd made himself, he merely gestured around the room, supplying, "I cleaned up," in a mixture of annoyance and triumph, if such a mix were possible.
The room did look slightly disheveled, showing all the signs of it being messed up and Dante applying his own brand of sloppy clean-ups. Dante's personal favourite cleaning tactic was to shove everything underneath couches and the like; hide the mess rather than actually fixing it. Judging by the fact that he'd pointed it out (and that the table looked like it had been nicked by a katana blade), Dante probably hadn't been the cause of the mess. "There's coffee in there," gestured vaguely to the kitchen, putting his coffee cup down.
Merely grunting in response, Vergil strode past his brother into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. It really was an injustice when his younger-by-five-minutes twin brother was completely unaffected whilst he felt so terrible. He had noticed the rather sloppy attempt at a clean up, but he had also noticed the damage to the coffee table so he decided not to be too critical. Though really, it was Dante's fault, since if his brother hadn't somehow managed to get him drunk, then the mess wouldn't have been made in the first place.
Returning to the front room with a cup of coffee, Vergil sank wearily into the chair, rubbing his forehead gently as he tried to shake off how ill he felt. He wasn't in the mood for anything loud or obnoxious, which probably meant that Dante should have left the room five minutes before he'd entered.
"So what're you gonna do?" Dante questioned bluntly, eyeing his brother with mild curiousity. The question seemed completely random, but from the expression on Dante's face, it had some kind of context. Sitting up on the couch, he yawned, rubbing his eyes before reaching again for the cup of coffee, still watching Vergil for a reaction.
Vergil grimaced a little as his brother spoke and gently set down the cup of coffee before he glanced up, taking a moment to think about what Dante had said before he eventually replied, "What exactly are you talking about?"
"Last night," Dante rolled his eyes, as though it should have been perfectly obvious. He fell silent for a moment before a thought occurred to him and he smirked slightly. "You do remember, don't you?" he questioned in amusement.
"No. I don't." Vergil responded emotionlessly, although there was only one person to blame for that and he was staring at him right now. I should have known not to overestimate your intelligence, dear brother. Deciding that Dante was just trying to take advantage of his current condition and get him to say something embarrassing, Vergil stood up. He didn't need his twin to fill in the blanks from last night, especially when he couldn't trust that his dear brother would tell him the truth.
Dante blinked, looking surprised by this turn of events. "You don't...?" He looked rather puzzled as to what to do, staring down into his empty coffee cup as though the truth would be magically revealed. (Dante did tend to act rather odd when hungover.) Finally, he concluded, "That doesn't matter," and glanced up at Vergil. "Go shower, then we'll get going."
Hn. At least he dropped it, Vergil thought, although now a part of him was actually curious to know what had happened last night. Really, it would be foolish of him to even ask, for one thing it would show that he actually did care about something that was just pointless, whatever he might have done or rambled about last night had no impact on his life when he was sober and besides, actually asking Dante would lead to trouble as he would just feed him a string of lies and laugh behind his back. He didn't feel like making an idiot out of himself today. "Fine," drinking the rest of the coffee and standing up, he moved over towards the stairs.
"…what was I talking about, last night?" Damn his curiosity, it always seemed to win in the end.
Dante grinned, leaning over the back of the couch and drawling, "What you've been moping about for weeks," he responded matter-of-factly, seeming unaffected by all the movement, or perhaps years of hangovers had just taught him more effective pain management skills. "What else?"
It took Vergil a moment to process the information before he let out a groan, rubbing his forehead again. Yuna. I can't believe I spoke about Yuna, to Dante of all people whilst I was drunk. He still had no idea what he had told his brother, but if Dante was actually bringing it up then it was probably incredibly embarrassing. "Does it matter?"
"After last night?" Dante gave Vergil a bemused look as he got to his feet. "Definitely." Sauntering to the kitchen door and turning, he added, "Go shower, then we'll go." In his mind, he was just doing his brotherly duty (and protecting their remaining furniture) although he doubted Vergil would see it that way. Vergil was always so much more reasonable when he was drunk off his head.
"What did I say?" Vergil demanded, not liking where the conversation was going. Dante definitely knew something that he did not and he was beginning to think he had gotten rather… emotional last night, which was probably why his brother was enjoying himself so much.
"Trust me," Dante replied with a Cheshire grin. "You don't want to know." Relaxing as he leant back against the wall, hands in his pockets and head tilted back slightly, he continued, "Don't worry, I'll help you out."
Frowning at him, Vergil eventually relented and strode upstairs to take a shower, hoping that it would at least help him overcome the terrible hangover and possibly remember what had happened at the same time. Dante with power was never a good thing.
By the time Vergil returned from his shower, Dante appeared to have gotten changed, microwaved a slice of pizza and was in the process of making another feeble attempt at cleaning up the devastated lounge room whilst eating said slice of pizza. Sometimes, he wondered why they bothered having furniture at all. At least he didn't trash the kitchen. And people accused Dante of being the destructive one.
Even though Vergil despised pizza, the smell alone was making him feel both hungry and queasy at the same time. Striding into the front room and wrinkling his nose a little at the offending pizza slice, he fixed his brother with a stern look, feeling slightly better now that he'd showered. "So where exactly are we going?" He questioned. Wherever it is, I hope it has chocolate.
Dante rolled his eyes, swallowing the last of the pizza before responding, "Yuna's place. Duh." Abandoning the futile attempts at cleaning, he seemed wholly unaffected by the look his brother was giving him (most other people probably would've wet themselves or fled by now).
"And why exactly are we going there? She's not on speaking terms with me," Vergil responded, not sounding too bothered by this little detail, though there were few things that made him express emotion other than anger. "It isn't important."
"It seemed pretty important to you last night," Dante commented, crossing his arms. He knew he'd meet with resistance at some point. "Besides, what kind of brother would I be if I just let you continue on moping around and feeling sorry for yourself? At this rate, you're gonna end up dying your hair black and starting to cut yourself. Just be a man about it and get it over with."
"I was drunk last night, thanks to you," Vergil answered in annoyance, not willing to let Dante have his way quite that easily. "People say foolish things when they're drunk and whilst I may not remember what I said, I know it wasn't something to be taken seriously." He chose to ignore his brother's last comment.
"People do, but you don't," Dante said firmly. If nothing else, Vergil was an honest drunk. "You never say anything you don't mean, you just say stuff you wouldn't normally say." Where most people said cruel things they normally held back when they were drunk, Vergil did the opposite. Vergil would probably equate it to being half-demon; Dante equated it to Vergil being an asshole. "Face it, you want to make up with her and we both know it."
"You've been making too much of a habit out of this if you can honestly say you know how I behave when I'm drunk," Vergil responded, still rather unwilling to accept that he had said anything out of the ordinary. If Dante was talking about things that he wouldn't normally say, then it had to be something related to his accursed human side. "Besides, you'd be wrong. I've heard you ramble enough times to know that drunks spout nonsense."
Simply ignoring the personal insult for now, Dante retorted, "Drunks do, but you don't. You've been wanting to talk to her ever since she kicked you to the curb, are you actually that intimidated by her? She's about five two and she hits like a girl. Stop being such a stubborn idiot and grow a pair."
"I am not intimidated by her," Vergil immediately retorted, wondering what he had done to deserve being hounded by his brother about his love life… again. I don't even know what to say to her. I didn't know that man, his life was worthless to me, he thought, maintaining his composure. It didn't help that he still had no idea just how much he had told his brother.
"Then why are you too chicken to even go and see her?" Now he was just plain goading Vergil into action, a tried and true tactic that backfired as much as it worked. In a few minutes, he’d either end up victorious or a bloody heap on the floor. "If you wait too long, you might miss your chance."
"I'm not chicken. It just isn't going to accomplish anything," Vergil retorted before eventually relenting. "I'll try it your way. But nothing is going to happen."
Victory. "Well, something's gonna happen," Dante rolled his eyes, walking towards the door and glancing back at his brother. "It's just whether she's gonna welcome you back with open arms or slam the door in your face."
"Thanks, I feel so much better now." Vergil responded sarcastically before catching himself and immediately falling silent, following Dante out of the shop.