[ the response comes out quick, almost snapped, as he feels his hackles raise and his blood pump that little bit faster. he's not sure where it comes from, either, maybe some panicked thought that vergil might hate him for searching for the brother he remembers instead of the person he is now? maybe because he feels like he is teetering on a knife's edge with vergil, as if a single gust of wind the wrong way will make it all tumble down. maybe because some small part of him is terrified of the concept of losing him again, of watching his lips through his fingers like sand and being powerless to stop it. ]
I don't─ I'm not asking you to go back to how you were, honestly, you were kind of an ass a lot of the time. [ maybe he'll turn out like nero, a mixture of both the person he is here and now and the person he was back home. dante isn't sure, isn't sure how to handle it. ] I just...
[ when he lifts his head vergil's hand is there, in front of him, offered to him. blue eyes widen with surprise, words catching in his throat as he all but stares at vergil's hand for a moment. and then another. and then a third. eventually, he swallows the lump in his throat and reaches out to take the hand, using vergil as an anchor to pull himself back up to standing. ]
You're not the only one, Verg. [ his voice is uneven, the smile that finds his face crooked. ] Though I think I've proven I can handle a few stabbings.
[ he can tell he struck a particularly raw cord with dante. a part of him even feels bad about it--it was an obvious comment to make, but he also felt he needed to have it said. Was it because he didn't want to disappoint this man who's clearly lost something important? Or was it because some part of him, deep down and hidden, wanted to take the man down a peg? Whatever it was, he frowns inwardly about it.
He'll pull the man to his feet, and he'll take a moment before letting go of his hand, returning it to the towel he's not put down since all of this started.
Finally looking the other in the eye again. ]
I can tell. [ a pause. ] That I was an asshole. ...Not that I am overly kind, currently, sharing space with you is still something I'm getting used to, given you really can't keep your hands off my things.
[ isnt this a familar line. ]
But I digress. I'm certain I'll get used to it. The memories I am getting aren't going to go away, and in a way, perhaps it's better if you're here, than... off somewhere else, being an idiot. Getting in someone elses' way.
[ what does that even MEAN. ]
As an aside. I came to Kaisou in search for power. It isn't a drive I had before I ... woke up with silver hair and the magic I do have. I'm not sure why I have the drive now, but it's there.
[ for a moment dante's hand hovers awkwardly in the space between them, absently curling into itself as though to keep the warmth that vergil's provided from fading entirely before it falls to his side fingers curled into a light fist. he has always been more contact focused than vergil, ever since they were kids, something that shifted after that fateful night, after that day he watched his brother plummet into the underworld. he kept people at a distance and didn't physically reach out as much as he used to out of fear. fear of losing someone else he loved. but now? now dante feels the need to reach out, to touch, as though to remind himself that this isn't some sort of insane hallucination brought about by loneliness.
pathetic, right? ]
We're brothers, Verg. Brothers share. [ familiar enough to almost feel like a punch to the gut, but dante recovers spectacularly, even though the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. ] Is that your way of saying you'd be worried about me out there on my lonesome?
[ but the smile faulters slightly and dante shifts his weight, a darker look finding his eyes. i came to kaisou in search for power. it shouldn't surprise him and, in truth, it doesn't, that drive dragged vergil back from the very brink, drove him to rip his humanity, his memories and nightmares, from his very being. but he doesn't remember the why, what set that feeling so deep in his chest that he carried it for over twenty years. ]
I could tell you, but it's a long story and I don't know if you can handle another heart attack today.
[ perhaps, in a view, it could have been seen as pathetic. maybe, were Vittore fully in a mindset that belonged to vergil he might suggest the want for contact as pathetic. insofar as he was always the more unfriendly of the two--mostly out of feeling embarrassed, instead of actually disliking the contact. Truth was, he never once turned dante away when they were kids, when Dante had a bad dream and asked to sleep in Vergil's bed. Not once when he got spooked by their father yelling and wanted to sit next to him, on the couch as Vergil read one of his stupidly long poetry books. Dante had always wanted to be in his space, and somehow as they stand here, face to face in his kitchen, the moment isn't awkward.
it's familiar.
Maybe that's why Vergil doesn't move away. ]
...I recall you used to steal my things, in your desperate want to share. ...But I digress. I've already agreed to let you live here, and I am not about to rescind the invitation. [ a beat. ] And I would not worry, I'd be merely concerned about the trouble you could cause.
[ yes, he'd be worried.
He's moving a little now, looking for that abandoned knife as the others' smile flickers. His want for power is returning, yes--but perhaps by the time he remembers why he wants it, he'll not be so desperate for it anymore. Perhaps. Not once he remembers the reflections he made atop of a lonely chair at the very top of a twisted, evil tree... ]
...yes. I've had quite enough excitement for one day. [ And he does pause. Thinking. Calculating. Trying to get the words to form. ]
[ it's enough that vergil doesn't move away, that he stays close enough that if dante wanted to (and he does) he could easily reach over and grab him. it seems to settle the need for contact, or at the very least make it easier to stomach. his shoulders aren't nearly as tense with vergil this close, muscles not coiled in such a way that one would not be remiss in thinking he is about three seconds from either bolting or attacking. dante's always been more relaxed in his brother's presence, after all, even when their blades were at each other's throats. ]
I only stole them because you wouldn't pay attention to me, Vergil. [ majority of the time, yes, dante felt the need to take the very things that vergil would pay more attention to than his own brother. even on that fateful day, all those years ago, dante had tried to take his stupid book with the emblazoned v ─ an action that would result in the pair fighting and vergil running away out of frustration with his brother. it had been dante's desire for his twin's attention that caused vergil to be absent when the demons attacked, that caused their mother to run out into the fire and the demons in search of him, that left dante alone as the world he knew crumbled down around him.
fuck.
dante pushes the thoughts down, latching onto vergil's next words like a drowning man out at sea. don't think about it, don't do this shit again. ] It's okay I know the truth, you'd be all lonely without me.
[ vergil moves, looking for the knife, as dante shifts his weight foot hitting the bloody blade beside him. he leans down and picks it up, dirtying his fingers even further, only to straighten a second later and holding it up to vergil. ]
[ feels weird to move away right now, anyway. like it'd be breaking some sort of tension that's holding him together the, honestly, terrifying experience of stabbing another human being. ... Demon? Devil? It wasn't that simple, he still needs time to think on it. Apologising felt strange, and what feels even stranger
is having the other admit that he stole his shit just for attention. It makes something prickle in him, and emotion that he's sure doesn't fully belong to him. No, it belongs to him, Vergil--not Vittore. Like he's just been told something he'd never put the lines together for, some secret that has been eluding him for years that he's finally got an answer to.
He only took his things because he wouldn't pay attention to him. Always preferring to be alone with his books--a selfish child who didn't understand the concept of loneliness. His heart feels like it has a pit in it--a bad joke in Dante's next comment being that he'd be lonely without Him.
(it's probably true, isn't it. how the tables had turned, how dante had grown, so surrounded by people who care for him--and how lonely vergil had become as the years grew long, grew cold.)
He seems to come back to reality when Dante offers him that. Bloodied knife. Telling him not to apologise. A silent, breathless laugh escaping him as he feels, very suddenly, so very lost for words. As if he was missing some other way to communicate with the man. They always had a different way of communicating, didn't they? When the words wouldn't come?
...
Vergil grabs the knife and immediately marches over to the garbage bin, throwing it inside. ]
I am not using a knife that's been in your lung to cook with.
I will buy a new one, and we can try to forget that happened. [ he's never gonna forget it. one day they'll look back at this and laugh. probably. ]
...
And that shirt you used to wipe up the blood was Armani.
[ 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.
[ maybe one day when Vergil is more like Nero--remembering who he is and mixing who he is now, they could share a drink and maybe say one or two sentences about how stupid life had been and how it really hadn't been necessary to force themselves into such a position where they were so desperately alone and yet right there the whole time.
it definitely isn't a conversation to be sober with. Honestly, Vergil doesn't want to be sober now and is quietly contemplating the wine he's got chilling in the fridge.
Also the knife is DEFINITELY a good one but there's no way he's using it again. Man have you ever heard of prion diseases?! ]
I will remind you that while you have a demon half, I am, sorely, very human in this world. Despite how I may look. [ the slitted eyes got questions from people. ] My only supernatural abilities are quite pathetic compared to... being able to instantly heal from a stab wound.
...
Also yes it was. But I suppose I can overlook it this time. Given it was me who put a hole in it, in the first place.
[ YOU SHOULD CARE BECAUSE ITS PROBABLY, LIKE, A 90$ SHIRT YOU FUCK. ]
[ there are too many maybes for dante to hope, but he does regardless, he sits and waits for memories to filter in so the weight can lift from his chest and he can finally breathe again. he'll need a drink after this one, he thinks, something strong enough to quell the demon in his blood that demands violence, that demands blood, that demands─
he huffs out a laugh, shoulders raising in a half-hearted shrug. honest, it wasn't a serious suggestion. ]
Right, right, please forgive me. [ dante continues to clean his hands with the shirt, seemingly unbothered by the fact the shirt was supposedly expensive. well, it isn't anymore, fabric is fabric in the end of the day, better he ruins this thing further than get blood all over vergil's tea towels. ]
Might have to burn it. [ he comments offhandedly. ] Unless you want someone rooting through your trash looking for some demonic blood. That shit can be potent, even half demon blood.
[ its fine probably, dante's been here long enough to know that vergil keeps a fair stock of wine in the kitchen And while it probably isn't the wilder twin's drink of choice, it sure can do the trick in numbing the brain, given that it's the good expensive wine. Vergil wont miss a bottle being gone. probably. right? ]
I'll overlook it. [ he's going to also just. pretend he's not watching dante wash his hands with a 130$ shirt, it's fine, it's just a shirt, it's a good sacrifice to pay in regards to not having to explain to the police why he'd stabbed his twin brother in his kitchen.
....his twin brother from a different dimension, no less. Ah, but now there's his brain stalling again as he rounds his head to look at dante--having started to busy himself at the sink, washing blood out from the crevices in his fingers. ]
Please tell me that is a joke. Your tone does not change when you are being serious and when you are laying it on thick. Do you think something ... unsightly will go digging about in the trash for something soaked in your blood.
[ dante lifts his head to look over at vergil, expression almost deadly serious at the question. honestly? he'd loved to be lying because it is definitely something that dante would do but in this? nope, there is no lie. ]
If they figured out that you've got a half-demon under your roof? Probably. [ he cleans off what he can without water, shifting his weight and moving over to the sink. ] Blood is a component in a lot of magic-based things, the more potent the blood the stronger whatever you're trying to do can be. Demonic blood is pretty fucking potent, and the demons back home... [ his voice drifts off almost considering whether or not he should even say this. ] Let's just say in order to become King of the Underworld it involves growing a fruit made out of human blood. The more they ingest the stronger they are.
[ blue eyes glance over at vergil, searching his expression for any sort of recognition, a twitch in his face that tells dante another memory has slipped through the cracks. ]
For the record? I don't drink blood. [ just in case he was wondering. ] But being part human makes my blood exceptionally potent. So yeah, if someone figured it out I'm sure you might have someone digging through the trash for my blood soaked shirt.
[ a fruit made of human blood. he blinks, twice, at the story, and he's sure that he's read a story somewhere in his vast collection of books, even lifting his head up to look toward the livingroom, which has about six bookshelves in it--with a thoughtful look on his face. ]
There are many stories of blood as being power in old folklore, such as the Aztecs drinking blood to gain power and immortality, as well as Vampires needing it to...
[ ...there's a taste of iron in his mouth, as those catlike eyes go still, the roaring voice in his head screaming that
with this
he could obtain everything.
...that wasn't his voice. That wasn't HIS voice, and... ]
Did we. Fight something that ate a fruit like that? There's... many eyes, and a distorted scene of a house.
...
[ ...hm. he's staring down at the shirt, now, with a look of INTENSE dislike for the idea that someone could start stalking the house if they found out that demon blood could come out of the garbage at any time. any time!!! ]
dante all but stills, eyes widening, he shifts closer and takes vergil by the shoulders as though the motion itself would be enough to stop the memory from bleeding through. there is no gentle way to tell him about that; the fruit, urizen, about v, or any of that. one question would lead into the another, into mallet island, into temen-ni-gru, into that fateful night where their mother died, into where was their father why wasn't he there why didn't he stop it. but he can't stop the memories, no matter how hard he might try, they'll keep coming and dante made the resolve not to lie to him that same night vergil asked him to stay. ]
Not exactly. [ the shirt is forgotten, dropped to the floor between them. ] It's more complicated than that.
[ at least this time when he's grabbed, he doesn't have an adverse reaction to it. and hey, dante grabbing him by the shoulders actually DOES shake him out from remembering anything else? congratulations? you probably just ripped him out of something he wasn't ready to see, dante. ]
...Are you alright. [ his eyebrows furrow as his head tilts a little--confusion clouding his eyes for the moment as the man holds him as if he's going to slip through his fingers again.
a hand coming up to rest on dante's arm, as if to anchor the man down from wherever he's going? ]
it doesn't occur to him now that look on his face is that of panic, of wide-eyed fear that vergil was about to remember something he shouldn't. that something will come and shatter what little good they have been them. maybe he is terrified of it? of there being some sort of memory that will cause vergil to distance himself from him, that will throw wide the rift between them once more. ]
Yeah, [ dante doesn't sound convinced and he doesn't let go not until vergil's hand comes up to rest of his arm, the weight enough to snap him from the unending onslaught of what if. he breathes out, letting go of the other man's shoulders as he forces himself to take a step back. ] Sorry.
[ he runs a hand through his hair. ]
I won't lie to you, thought you were about to remember something rough for a second there.
[ it's panic. maybe the worst thing about sharing a face with someone is that when you see an expression on it, you recognise it--as it's a look you've seen in a mirror before, it pulls muscles in the face that you recognise as everything hits you like a freight train.
The hand on the others' arm was meant as a reassurance, and maybe it was--in any case, Dante was moving back within a moment, so perhaps his momentary concern hadn't been needed.
...he blinks, though. Those words... odd. ]
We both know that once I've started to remember things, there isn't exactly any stopping it. August, and others with my. ...Condition. Have mentioned such. [ just a reminder. even if dante DID shake him out of that odd memory that was as if he was looking out of two sets of eyes at once. ]
...
Trying to protect me from things you don't want me to remember? You're always so on my case, I never would have thought.
[ he moves back because he doesn't want to crowd vergil's space, he moves back because he can still feel the blade in his ribs, because he isn't sure what to do with the enormity of what sits in his chest. he moves back and regrets doing so almost immediately, the place vergil's hand had rested almost burning from the contact. ]
I know. [ there is nothing to stop it, any of it, and that is what worries him. ]
It's not that I don't want you to remember, [ it would help if he did, if dante didn't have to dance around subjects he isn't sure vergil is ready for yet. it would help if they could proper talk without having to be careful what he says. ] There's just... some things I don't know if you're ready for yet. Not sure you'll ever be ready for them.
[ his gaze turns to the discarded shirt just for something else to look at, collecting it off the floor. ]
We've been through a lot, you and I, and none of it is pretty. If you start at the end I'll have to walk you through the whole thing.
As someone who is a ... scholar in terms of literature and long-reads, starting at the end and working backwards is an easy way to misinterpret the cause of what may have led to the effect in the end. I can understand at least that much.
[ he can't get the tinge of iron out of his mouth. ]
I'd like to. Learn from the beginning. The actual beginning, not just my memories, but what you've experienced is likely important subtext as well. ...Two halves of a whole, so to speak. [ twins, and all. and also... ]
I cannot get it out of my head that I was likely someone terrible, in this past life of mine. But the fact that you're so keen on making an effort here. Despite that.
I'll respect your want to do this carefully. [ both because dante looks like he's about to break every time vergil remembers something dangerous. and because his heart is still human, right now. he's not sure what kind of damages knowing everything too fast will cause to his mental health? hoo boy. what if he becomes that person again? ]
You weren't terrible... [ by any other person's reckoning vergil was, in fact, a terrible person. the number of people who died due to his actions cannot be underestimated and dante knows that, he knows keenly the human cost of temen-ni-gru, of the qliphoth, but still─ fuck, he can't be so desperate to have his brother back that he is trying to rationalize all that happened to himself? dante exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. ] It's complicated.
[ he feels like he has been saying that a lot recently. ]
Okay, yeah, I'll go take a shower and, [ he waves the bloodied shirt about a little. ] Go deal with this.
[ he needs some air anyway, maybe a drink or fuck... maybe even a smoke. ]
[ maybe he allows dante's reassurances because he wants them to be true. maybe he wants to believe that the only blood on his hands were that of demons, like the angel-winged beast he remembers, spitting at him, calling him a son of sparda with its eyes torn out. his memories are far from complete--all of them split-off images that are blurry or oddly split, more words echoing in his ears than things he can actually fully see--it's always so dark, man. ]
I'll trust in your words. If only because I feel I owe you something after. That. [ gestures at where there's. not even a scar yet, what the fuck dante.
he's gonna turn back over to the counter where he HAD been cutting gnocchi before.
and dont worry dante
by the time he comes out to the dinner table, where stuffed veal with gnocchi is served, there's two bottles of the good wine on the table, so he'll at least get his drink in, if nothing else. ]
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[ the response comes out quick, almost snapped, as he feels his hackles raise and his blood pump that little bit faster. he's not sure where it comes from, either, maybe some panicked thought that vergil might hate him for searching for the brother he remembers instead of the person he is now? maybe because he feels like he is teetering on a knife's edge with vergil, as if a single gust of wind the wrong way will make it all tumble down. maybe because some small part of him is terrified of the concept of losing him again, of watching his lips through his fingers like sand and being powerless to stop it. ]
I don't─ I'm not asking you to go back to how you were, honestly, you were kind of an ass a lot of the time. [ maybe he'll turn out like nero, a mixture of both the person he is here and now and the person he was back home. dante isn't sure, isn't sure how to handle it. ] I just...
[ when he lifts his head vergil's hand is there, in front of him, offered to him. blue eyes widen with surprise, words catching in his throat as he all but stares at vergil's hand for a moment. and then another. and then a third. eventually, he swallows the lump in his throat and reaches out to take the hand, using vergil as an anchor to pull himself back up to standing. ]
You're not the only one, Verg. [ his voice is uneven, the smile that finds his face crooked. ] Though I think I've proven I can handle a few stabbings.
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He'll pull the man to his feet, and he'll take a moment before letting go of his hand, returning it to the towel he's not put down since all of this started.
Finally looking the other in the eye again. ]
I can tell. [ a pause. ] That I was an asshole. ...Not that I am overly kind, currently, sharing space with you is still something I'm getting used to, given you really can't keep your hands off my things.
[ isnt this a familar line. ]
But I digress.
I'm certain I'll get used to it. The memories I am getting aren't going to go away, and in a way, perhaps it's better if you're here, than... off somewhere else, being an idiot. Getting in someone elses' way.
[ what does that even MEAN. ]
As an aside.
I came to Kaisou in search for power. It isn't a drive I had before I ... woke up with silver hair and the magic I do have.
I'm not sure why I have the drive now, but it's there.
no subject
pathetic, right? ]
We're brothers, Verg. Brothers share. [ familiar enough to almost feel like a punch to the gut, but dante recovers spectacularly, even though the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. ] Is that your way of saying you'd be worried about me out there on my lonesome?
[ but the smile faulters slightly and dante shifts his weight, a darker look finding his eyes. i came to kaisou in search for power. it shouldn't surprise him and, in truth, it doesn't, that drive dragged vergil back from the very brink, drove him to rip his humanity, his memories and nightmares, from his very being. but he doesn't remember the why, what set that feeling so deep in his chest that he carried it for over twenty years. ]
I could tell you, but it's a long story and I don't know if you can handle another heart attack today.
no subject
it's familiar.
Maybe that's why Vergil doesn't move away. ]
...I recall you used to steal my things, in your desperate want to share. ...But I digress. I've already agreed to let you live here, and I am not about to rescind the invitation. [ a beat. ] And I would not worry, I'd be merely concerned about the trouble you could cause.
[ yes, he'd be worried.
He's moving a little now, looking for that abandoned knife as the others' smile flickers. His want for power is returning, yes--but perhaps by the time he remembers why he wants it, he'll not be so desperate for it anymore. Perhaps. Not once he remembers the reflections he made atop of a lonely chair at the very top of a twisted, evil tree... ]
...yes. I've had quite enough excitement for one day. [ And he does pause. Thinking. Calculating. Trying to get the words to form. ]
I apologise for stabbing you.
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I only stole them because you wouldn't pay attention to me, Vergil. [ majority of the time, yes, dante felt the need to take the very things that vergil would pay more attention to than his own brother. even on that fateful day, all those years ago, dante had tried to take his stupid book with the emblazoned v ─ an action that would result in the pair fighting and vergil running away out of frustration with his brother. it had been dante's desire for his twin's attention that caused vergil to be absent when the demons attacked, that caused their mother to run out into the fire and the demons in search of him, that left dante alone as the world he knew crumbled down around him.
fuck.
dante pushes the thoughts down, latching onto vergil's next words like a drowning man out at sea. don't think about it, don't do this shit again. ] It's okay I know the truth, you'd be all lonely without me.
[ vergil moves, looking for the knife, as dante shifts his weight foot hitting the bloody blade beside him. he leans down and picks it up, dirtying his fingers even further, only to straighten a second later and holding it up to vergil. ]
Keep your apologies, it wasn't your fault.
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... Demon? Devil? It wasn't that simple, he still needs time to think on it.
Apologising felt strange, and what feels even stranger
is having the other admit that he stole his shit just for attention. It makes something prickle in him, and emotion that he's sure doesn't fully belong to him. No, it belongs to him, Vergil--not Vittore. Like he's just been told something he'd never put the lines together for, some secret that has been eluding him for years that he's finally got an answer to.
He only took his things because he wouldn't pay attention to him. Always preferring to be alone with his books--a selfish child who didn't understand the concept of loneliness.
His heart feels like it has a pit in it--a bad joke in Dante's next comment being that he'd be lonely without Him.
(it's probably true, isn't it. how the tables had turned, how dante had grown, so surrounded by people who care for him--and how lonely vergil had become as the years grew long, grew cold.)
He seems to come back to reality when Dante offers him that. Bloodied knife. Telling him not to apologise. A silent, breathless laugh escaping him as he feels, very suddenly, so very lost for words.
As if he was missing some other way to communicate with the man. They always had a different way of communicating, didn't they? When the words wouldn't come?
...
Vergil grabs the knife and immediately marches over to the garbage bin, throwing it inside. ]
I am not using a knife that's been in your lung to cook with.
I will buy a new one, and we can try to forget that happened. [ he's never gonna forget it. one day they'll look back at this and laugh. probably. ]
...
And that shirt you used to wipe up the blood was Armani.
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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? ]
no subject
it definitely isn't a conversation to be sober with. Honestly, Vergil doesn't want to be sober now and is quietly contemplating the wine he's got chilling in the fridge.
Also the knife is DEFINITELY a good one but there's no way he's using it again. Man have you ever heard of prion diseases?! ]
I will remind you that while you have a demon half, I am, sorely, very human in this world. Despite how I may look. [ the slitted eyes got questions from people. ] My only supernatural abilities are quite pathetic compared to... being able to instantly heal from a stab wound.
...
Also yes it was. But I suppose I can overlook it this time. Given it was me who put a hole in it, in the first place.
[ YOU SHOULD CARE BECAUSE ITS PROBABLY, LIKE, A 90$ SHIRT YOU FUCK. ]
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he huffs out a laugh, shoulders raising in a half-hearted shrug. honest, it wasn't a serious suggestion. ]
Right, right, please forgive me. [ dante continues to clean his hands with the shirt, seemingly unbothered by the fact the shirt was supposedly expensive. well, it isn't anymore, fabric is fabric in the end of the day, better he ruins this thing further than get blood all over vergil's tea towels. ]
Might have to burn it. [ he comments offhandedly. ] Unless you want someone rooting through your trash looking for some demonic blood. That shit can be potent, even half demon blood.
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And while it probably isn't the wilder twin's drink of choice, it sure can do the trick in numbing the brain, given that it's the good expensive wine. Vergil wont miss a bottle being gone. probably. right? ]
I'll overlook it. [ he's going to also just. pretend he's not watching dante wash his hands with a 130$ shirt, it's fine, it's just a shirt, it's a good sacrifice to pay in regards to not having to explain to the police why he'd stabbed his twin brother in his kitchen.
....his twin brother from a different dimension, no less. Ah, but now there's his brain stalling again as he rounds his head to look at dante--having started to busy himself at the sink, washing blood out from the crevices in his fingers. ]
Please tell me that is a joke. Your tone does not change when you are being serious and when you are laying it on thick.
Do you think something ... unsightly will go digging about in the trash for something soaked in your blood.
[ why. ]
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If they figured out that you've got a half-demon under your roof? Probably. [ he cleans off what he can without water, shifting his weight and moving over to the sink. ] Blood is a component in a lot of magic-based things, the more potent the blood the stronger whatever you're trying to do can be. Demonic blood is pretty fucking potent, and the demons back home... [ his voice drifts off almost considering whether or not he should even say this. ] Let's just say in order to become King of the Underworld it involves growing a fruit made out of human blood. The more they ingest the stronger they are.
[ blue eyes glance over at vergil, searching his expression for any sort of recognition, a twitch in his face that tells dante another memory has slipped through the cracks. ]
For the record? I don't drink blood. [ just in case he was wondering. ] But being part human makes my blood exceptionally potent. So yeah, if someone figured it out I'm sure you might have someone digging through the trash for my blood soaked shirt.
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human blood.
he blinks, twice, at the story, and he's sure that he's read a story somewhere in his vast collection of books, even lifting his head up to look toward the livingroom, which has about six bookshelves in it--with a thoughtful look on his face. ]
There are many stories of blood as being power in old folklore, such as the Aztecs drinking blood to gain power and immortality, as well as Vampires needing it to...
[ ...there's a taste of iron in his mouth, as those catlike eyes go still, the roaring voice in his head screaming that
with this
he could obtain everything.
...that wasn't his voice. That wasn't HIS voice, and... ]
Did we. Fight something that ate a fruit like that? There's... many eyes, and a distorted scene of a house.
...
[ ...hm.
he's staring down at the shirt, now, with a look of INTENSE dislike for the idea that someone could start stalking the house if they found out that demon blood could come out of the garbage at any time. any time!!! ]
Perhaps we should burn this.
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dante all but stills, eyes widening, he shifts closer and takes vergil by the shoulders as though the motion itself would be enough to stop the memory from bleeding through. there is no gentle way to tell him about that; the fruit, urizen, about v, or any of that. one question would lead into the another, into mallet island, into temen-ni-gru, into that fateful night where their mother died, into where was their father why wasn't he there why didn't he stop it. but he can't stop the memories, no matter how hard he might try, they'll keep coming and dante made the resolve not to lie to him that same night vergil asked him to stay. ]
Not exactly. [ the shirt is forgotten, dropped to the floor between them. ] It's more complicated than that.
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...Are you alright. [ his eyebrows furrow as his head tilts a little--confusion clouding his eyes for the moment as the man holds him as if he's going to slip through his fingers again.
a hand coming up to rest on dante's arm, as if to anchor the man down from wherever he's going? ]
The memory's faded, in any case.
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it doesn't occur to him now that look on his face is that of panic, of wide-eyed fear that vergil was about to remember something he shouldn't. that something will come and shatter what little good they have been them. maybe he is terrified of it? of there being some sort of memory that will cause vergil to distance himself from him, that will throw wide the rift between them once more. ]
Yeah, [ dante doesn't sound convinced and he doesn't let go not until vergil's hand comes up to rest of his arm, the weight enough to snap him from the unending onslaught of what if. he breathes out, letting go of the other man's shoulders as he forces himself to take a step back. ] Sorry.
[ he runs a hand through his hair. ]
I won't lie to you, thought you were about to remember something rough for a second there.
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The hand on the others' arm was meant as a reassurance, and maybe it was--in any case, Dante was moving back within a moment, so perhaps his momentary concern hadn't been needed.
...he blinks, though. Those words... odd. ]
We both know that once I've started to remember things, there isn't exactly any stopping it. August, and others with my. ...Condition. Have mentioned such.
[ just a reminder. even if dante DID shake him out of that odd memory that was as if he was looking out of two sets of eyes at once. ]
...
Trying to protect me from things you don't want me to remember?
You're always so on my case, I never would have thought.
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I know. [ there is nothing to stop it, any of it, and that is what worries him. ]
It's not that I don't want you to remember, [ it would help if he did, if dante didn't have to dance around subjects he isn't sure vergil is ready for yet. it would help if they could proper talk without having to be careful what he says. ] There's just... some things I don't know if you're ready for yet. Not sure you'll ever be ready for them.
[ his gaze turns to the discarded shirt just for something else to look at, collecting it off the floor. ]
We've been through a lot, you and I, and none of it is pretty. If you start at the end I'll have to walk you through the whole thing.
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[ he can't get the tinge of iron out of his mouth. ]
I'd like to. Learn from the beginning. The actual beginning, not just my memories, but what you've experienced is likely important subtext as well. ...Two halves of a whole, so to speak. [ twins, and all. and also... ]
I cannot get it out of my head that I was likely someone terrible, in this past life of mine.
But the fact that you're so keen on making an effort here. Despite that.
I'll respect your want to do this carefully. [ both because dante looks like he's about to break every time vergil remembers something dangerous.
and because his heart is still human, right now. he's not sure what kind of damages knowing everything too fast will cause to his mental health? hoo boy. what if he becomes that person again? ]
I should finish making dinner.
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[ he feels like he has been saying that a lot recently. ]
Okay, yeah, I'll go take a shower and, [ he waves the bloodied shirt about a little. ] Go deal with this.
[ he needs some air anyway, maybe a drink or fuck... maybe even a smoke. ]
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maybe he wants to believe that the only blood on his hands were that of demons, like the angel-winged beast he remembers, spitting at him, calling him a son of sparda with its eyes torn out. his memories are far from complete--all of them split-off images that are blurry or oddly split, more words echoing in his ears than things he can actually fully see--it's always so dark, man. ]
I'll trust in your words.
If only because I feel I owe you something after.
That. [ gestures at where there's. not even a scar yet, what the fuck dante.
he's gonna turn back over to the counter where he HAD been cutting gnocchi before.
and dont worry dante
by the time he comes out to the dinner table, where stuffed veal with gnocchi is served, there's two bottles of the good wine on the table, so he'll at least get his drink in, if nothing else. ]