ic contact.

[advivo]

"Devil May Cry, leave a message after the beep and maybe I'll get back to you."

VOICE | ACTION | TEXT

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[darksoulwithlight]

I've looked in a mirror. I already know that it's not bull, Dante.

[Over time she’s come to terms with it, she knows that she was made to look the way she does for a very specific, grotesque reason. She was created to ensnare, to intrigue, to hurt, all the while wearing a face that belonged to a woman who would never do those things. She hadn’t known until after Dante had saved her life just how twisted and perverse Mundus had been in his attempts at revenge; sure she’d known her purpose, but it had never been made clear to her why she looked the way she did and she'd never realised until he had turned to her and said it.

Because you look like my mother

Therein lies the rub. Trish can argue all she wants that she’s not a traitor if the master she turned against would have thrown her away at the first opportunity if it had pleased him, as he’d thrown away all his generals before condemning her the same way. Everything she does is her choice and it’s a choice she’d make again and again.

But every time she looks in the mirror, she can’t deny that the face looking back at her came from Eva. It’s not just her face.

She thinks sometimes that she can see differences. There have been times in the past when she's been alone in the shop and she's found herself staring at the photo on Dante's desk, wondering if they really are identical; she doesn't think she could ever look as serene as Eva does in her picture, and even though she loves the colour red she'll never wear it. She doesn't want to invite the similarities. She had thought she was past it.

And then V had looked at her and sought her guidance like a child seeking his mother's approval and it had touched a nerve she had thought she'd numbed years ago.

She doesn't fight Dante when he encourages her to look at him, and not for the first time in her life she wonders who he's looking for when he's paying attention to her face. It doesn't mean she's not grateful for him being kind in his attempt to reassure her.]

Just because someone's being a dick, it doesn’t change the facts.

[advivo]

[ He can't deny that once when he looked at her he saw nothing but his mother, thought of nothing but the last time he ever saw her alive. It was difficult not go back to that memory, to replay it over and over again in his head like he had for so many years. It had been the reason he saved her, but that quickly changed the more he got to know Trish. She had been so quick to correct his thoughts.

Days passed, weeks, where before he struggled to separate them from one another they became two different entities ─ he saw Trish for the person she is, not the clone of a woman she had been made to be. Only now does he wonder if he made that evident, if it was clear to her that when he looked at her he was looking at Trish, his friend his partner, and not Eva, the loving mother forever lost. ]

Listen to me... [ Maybe he should have made it more obvious, actually told her instead of letting subtle actions speak for him. But he isn't the best at things like these, preferring his actions to speak instead of fumbling over words. It's past time he did the opposite, right? Bite the bullet and actually speak. ] We can't change the facts, but what you were made for doesn't make you who you are. You know that.

[ He breathes in, pausing briefly as he searches for the words. ]

It is your face, just as it was hers. [ Fingers take her chin lightly, keeping her looking at him. ] She wouldn't want her memory to weigh you down, she'd want you to be the badass woman you are and keep her idiot son in check.

[ In truth he isn't... sure if this is helping, if any of what he is trying to say is getting through but he'll keep trying to voice what he normally wouldn't. What he's spent years trying to get through with his actions. ]

I don't see Eva when I look at you, Trish. Haven't in twenty years. I see you, I see your face. [ It's then he lets go, sitting back onto his feet, rubbing the back of his head. ] I want you to know that.

[darksoulwithlight]

[She does listen when he speaks - for all the shit she gives him and vice versa, when he has something to say that matters, she'll listen, even if that small, treacherous voice in her head snipes disagreement at every opportunity. It shouldn't matter, she is her own woman and she had outgrown her original purpose before the first tremors shook the foundations of Mallet Island, she knows all of this.

She knows she should be above and beyond caring about the resemblance, and for god's sake she's talking to a twin about her hang-ups of having the same face as someone else. It's so stupid she should be laughing.

Twenty years, huh?

It hits her then that Dante's spent more of his life with her than he ever had the chance to with his mother.

Her eyes follow him as his hand falls from her chin and she can't help but feel a fresh kind of sadness over this whole mess. Two decades later and the three-eyed fuckface is still finding ways to ruin lives, even while dead and gone (hopefully). It's bullshit.]

I do know that. I know you don't see me as an imitation of her.

[You have the face, but you'll never have her fire!

The treacherous voice can go fuck itself.

She sighs, props her elbows up on her knees and takes her head in her hands, laughing mirthlessly. How can it be after twenty years she still finds herself cast in the shadow of a woman she never even knew and feel like she should make apologies for it? It's not her fault she was created this way.]

I like how I look, you know? I always have. I like being me. I don't- I stopped wondering if I was just meant to be a total copy of her a long time ago but... I don't know. This wasn't what I wanted to see when I went to shower this morning. Kinda threw me a bit.

[She puts a hand on her collarbone over the words, and offers him a small, sheepish smile.]

I mean look at this, you're acting as peacekeeper and keeping me in check here. Everything's messed up.