[ a terrible joke to reflect from dante, to reflect from the truth that he would be lonely without his brother at his side. that he had been lonely during all those years of unending grief, even as surrounded as he was, that there was always something missing ─ a hole that he couldn't fill no matter how many women (or men) entered his life, no matter how much he drank, how much he fought, how much he would push himself to his very limits. dante had been lonely, terribly lonely, right up until the day v walked through his door.

but he won't say that, not sober at least, won't put that weakness out in front of vergil to take in and mull over. it's too early for that, too much to even consider, and dante would rather he didn't fall to his own emotions this early.

eyebrow raise as vergil grabs the knife, blue eyes blinking as he marches over and tosses the knife away. what a waste of a knife. it was a good one too, he thinks, considering how clearly it sliced through skin and muscle to dig itself into his lung. it'd be a shame to lose it really, but he can't blame vergil for throwing it away considering that very fact. ]

Well, human blood is considered the source of demon's power, you know? [ he shrugs, picking up the ruined shirt to try and clean his hands of blood. ] Just saying it could've added a little bit of a kick.

[ it's a joke, of course, he isn't seriously suggesting that vergil start adding blood to his meals ─ never mind the demonic side of him thrashing against its chains at the very thought. ]

Oh? Was it? [ he looks at the shirt, bloody and torn from where the knife had hit him. ] Whoops.

[ IT'S A SHIRT, WHY SHOULD HE CARE? ]