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[Well... this one's easy. It's kids playing on a big, green, open field. Funny how the images come to mind so smoothly when he's not tripping over reading the words himself.
He's quiet for a moment after Vergil finishes, eyes closed. Then he opens them to find his father gazing down at him, almost expectantly.]
You have a good voice for that. [First thing that comes to mind for him to say, for some reason. He smiles.] I liked it.
He's quiet for a moment after Vergil finishes, eyes closed. Then he opens them to find his father gazing down at him, almost expectantly.]
You have a good voice for that. [First thing that comes to mind for him to say, for some reason. He smiles.] I liked it.
[It's a bit of an odd compliment. Certainly not one Vergil anticipated receiving even if he's had plenty of experiencing reading poems. He says nothing about it though, brushing it aside more in favor of the whole point in reading it to Nero in the first place.]
I take it that means it made more sense to you than reading it for yourself?
I take it that means it made more sense to you than reading it for yourself?
Yeah. It's easier than reading and think about it at the same time.
[Nero mildly bristles a little, for a moment, and hurries to clarify.] Not that I can't read, or whatever, but... it's easier for me to listen.
There was a big lawn like that at the orphanage, so... I can picture it really clearly.
[Nero mildly bristles a little, for a moment, and hurries to clarify.] Not that I can't read, or whatever, but... it's easier for me to listen.
There was a big lawn like that at the orphanage, so... I can picture it really clearly.
[Vergil smiles lightly as he continues combing his fingers through Nero's hair, his amusement at just how quickly Nero is to clarify. His smiles grows a little more as Nero's able to find a more personal connection to the poem.]
I'm glad to hear it, [he says, closing the book and setting it down on the bed beside him.]
I'm glad to hear it, [he says, closing the book and setting it down on the bed beside him.]
[If there's a vague look of surprise on Vergil's face, it's because he genuinely is surprised. Nero only asked for the one to be read, and Vergil assumed that to be the extent of his general tolerance.]
...Would you like me to keep reading?
...Would you like me to keep reading?
[It does not show in his expression, but Vergil's heart clenches a little at the request even with as much as Nero tries to play it off as not a particularly big deal. And perhaps it's not, but... Not that Vergil would necessarily want Nero to be ill, this is still something that they both missed out on as he grew up.]
Alright, [he says, a little quieter than he meant to be. Vergil picks the book back up, but before he opens it, he nods to the glass Nero is still balancing on himself in his hands.] Are you through with that?
Alright, [he says, a little quieter than he meant to be. Vergil picks the book back up, but before he opens it, he nods to the glass Nero is still balancing on himself in his hands.] Are you through with that?
[He'd almost forgotten about the water. Nero is about to hand it over, but he considers for a moment before sitting up enough to drain the rest of the glass. There wasn't all that much left, and he imagines it will make Vergil feel better about his hydration levels.
Once the glass is empty he hands it over and fails at not looking terribly pleased with this scenario as he lies back down, settling in and smiling up at Vergil.]
Once the glass is empty he hands it over and fails at not looking terribly pleased with this scenario as he lies back down, settling in and smiling up at Vergil.]
[Vergil takes his hand from Nero's hair as he sits up, accepting the glass when it's passed and leaning over to place it back on the nightstand. He doesn't say anything, or show it, but he's pleased with Nero finishing off the glass. Much as he would like to encourage Nero to drink even more than that, it's good enough for now and he needs his rest just as much. If he ends up feeling thirsty later or up for it, Vergil can always pour him more then. As Nero settles back in to his lap, Vergil opens the book again. This time, he opens the book to the beginning of the Songs of Innocence of the collection to start there. He glances down at Nero before he begins to read. Judging by the look on Nero's face, he's not certain how effective this will be for getting Nero to sleep necessarily. It seems likely that he will try to fight it even when it starts to reach for him. But he's still lying down at least, and likely to be still. Vergil looks at the book, but there's a smile there as he moves the book to one hand so that he may simultaneously stroke Nero's hair while he reads.]
[Nero settles in comfortably, perfectly content to let Vergil fiddle with his hair as he reads. Yeah, he was right. The guy really does have a wonderful voice for this. And he does enjoy the poems a lot more when he's not stumbling over things like verses, pronunciation of words he's unfamiliar with, or reading the whole thing and feeling like it went straight through him and didn't really land anywhere.
The water stays down, even if he still feels a little bit queasy and feverish. It's hard not to feel the ickiness lessen though, comfortable and warm, feeling the affection of his father. Here he is, a grown-ass man getting read a bedtime story by his dad. The thought occurs to him that this scenario is a first for both of them... and there's a little pang of regret that he never got the chance for this when he was a kid.
Oh well. Better late than never?
He mumbles some feedback for a few of the poems, nothing terribly profound, but appreciation for some imagery or another, or at least the way Vergil read it. It doesn't last too long though. About ten minutes in, Nero stops responding because he's fallen asleep.]
The water stays down, even if he still feels a little bit queasy and feverish. It's hard not to feel the ickiness lessen though, comfortable and warm, feeling the affection of his father. Here he is, a grown-ass man getting read a bedtime story by his dad. The thought occurs to him that this scenario is a first for both of them... and there's a little pang of regret that he never got the chance for this when he was a kid.
Oh well. Better late than never?
He mumbles some feedback for a few of the poems, nothing terribly profound, but appreciation for some imagery or another, or at least the way Vergil read it. It doesn't last too long though. About ten minutes in, Nero stops responding because he's fallen asleep.]
do me a favor. when you come home, knock 3 times, then count to 20 before you come inside. thanks!
[After what happened that night with Dante, Vergil's gotten into the habit of carrying his Relic with him when he leaves the house. He still doesn't really use it, but he makes certain it's in one of his coat pockets before he leaves just in case. That does, however, mean that on occasion when it chimes and he's quick to dig it out from his pockets, it's more or less a false alarm. As it appears to be now when Dante messages him telling him how to enter their home. For a moment, Vergil thinks to just dismiss it. After all, who has ever heard of something as foolish as knocking a specific amount of times and waiting to enter their own house? And it's not as though Dante is liable to provide him with an answer if he were to take the time to write back and ask what he's going on about. At least, not a satisfying answer that would give Vergil a reason to play along with the foolish request in the first place.]
[But as he grumbles to himself and pockets his Relic, Vergil ends up giving it a little more thought. It occurs to him that perhaps this is Dante's silly little way of making sure Vergil is still actually bringing his Relic with him and still paying attention to it when he's out and about. He does have a tendency to make little to no acknowledgement of messages he might receive.]
[...So, against his better judgment, Vergil stands outside the front door and checks his Relic for the foolish little set of instructions once more. Rapping on the door with a knuckle three times, he pockets the Relic and begins a silent count to himself. Once he reaches twenty, he opens the door and steps inside.]
Dante? [he calls out as he closes the door behind him.] Why exactly am I knocking on my own front door?
[Oh, it had better be for an important reason like the one he speculated and pondered upon, and not just for his own amusement to see what he could make Vergil do.]
[But as he grumbles to himself and pockets his Relic, Vergil ends up giving it a little more thought. It occurs to him that perhaps this is Dante's silly little way of making sure Vergil is still actually bringing his Relic with him and still paying attention to it when he's out and about. He does have a tendency to make little to no acknowledgement of messages he might receive.]
[...So, against his better judgment, Vergil stands outside the front door and checks his Relic for the foolish little set of instructions once more. Rapping on the door with a knuckle three times, he pockets the Relic and begins a silent count to himself. Once he reaches twenty, he opens the door and steps inside.]
Dante? [he calls out as he closes the door behind him.] Why exactly am I knocking on my own front door?
[Oh, it had better be for an important reason like the one he speculated and pondered upon, and not just for his own amusement to see what he could make Vergil do.]
( Hark! Is that a brother actually doing what he asks for once? For a second, he blinks β wanting to make sure he actually heard the knock right, but. When the other two come, thatβs when he barks a laugh to himself and shakes his head. )
Well Iβll be damned.
( Some days he really is.
But! Knowing he has about twenty seconds before his brother wanders his way in and, inevitably, asks what kind of tomfoolery heβs up to with sending him a message like that, he makes haste in his finishing up what heβs been doing in the kitchen whichβ¦ looks like a mess, really no other way of putting it. Heβs sure Vergil is liable to come close to blowing a baby gasket at the sight, but. Heβll clean it up. After.
When Vergil finds him, thereβs dirty pots stacked one on the other littered about the kitchen countertops along with various open bags of ingredients heβd needed to make the surprise heβd been cooking up for his brother. Oven mitts on, he turns to face his brother when he hears him, beaming and covered in red. Tomato sauce, for once instead of blood. Glass dish of lasagna held between his hands. Holding it up proudly then, he smiles. )
Surprise! I cooked for you!
Well Iβll be damned.
( Some days he really is.
But! Knowing he has about twenty seconds before his brother wanders his way in and, inevitably, asks what kind of tomfoolery heβs up to with sending him a message like that, he makes haste in his finishing up what heβs been doing in the kitchen whichβ¦ looks like a mess, really no other way of putting it. Heβs sure Vergil is liable to come close to blowing a baby gasket at the sight, but. Heβll clean it up. After.
When Vergil finds him, thereβs dirty pots stacked one on the other littered about the kitchen countertops along with various open bags of ingredients heβd needed to make the surprise heβd been cooking up for his brother. Oven mitts on, he turns to face his brother when he hears him, beaming and covered in red. Tomato sauce, for once instead of blood. Glass dish of lasagna held between his hands. Holding it up proudly then, he smiles. )
Surprise! I cooked for you!
[Vergil stands there on the threshold between the living room and the kitchen, staring for a long moment even if his gaze does not linger on any one thing. It's technically not his kitchen. His kitchen is back in Satori Hills and probably belongs to someone else by now. Assuming it technically exists at all anymore given that the apartments themselves seem to change to what's needed by the new tenant. Either way, this kitchen is technically far more shared than that one because it was never his alone. And to some extent, Vergil's gotten better about sharing the responsibilities for meals a little more, particularly with Nero. But he still feels a degree of ownership over it, and still maintains it to a particular standard that anyone who enters it is implicitly agreeing to maintain or face the consequences. Vergil's eyes trail over the wreckage before making their way back to Dante, who also stands before him a mess.]
So you did, [Vergil says in a tone and pitch that absolutely belies just how much effort he's exerting to restrain himself right now. Vergil looks at the lasagna in Dante's hands as he calmly reviews why fratricide is a poor choice and it would likely be a deep, disappointing blow to Nero. Because the lasagna in his brother's hands is a nice gesture. It is a very kind, considerate gesture. Dante doesn't really cook all that often, but he went through the trouble of cooking something for Vergil. For no immediate or obvious reason. And he's clearly proud of the resultβas he probably should be for how little Dante tends to cookβand smiling at Vergil with all of his good intentions.] It...smells nice.
[Which isn't a false compliment even if it's a little on the weaker end while Vergil emotionally grapples with the state of the kitchen. He draws a steadying breath.]
What's the occasion?
So you did, [Vergil says in a tone and pitch that absolutely belies just how much effort he's exerting to restrain himself right now. Vergil looks at the lasagna in Dante's hands as he calmly reviews why fratricide is a poor choice and it would likely be a deep, disappointing blow to Nero. Because the lasagna in his brother's hands is a nice gesture. It is a very kind, considerate gesture. Dante doesn't really cook all that often, but he went through the trouble of cooking something for Vergil. For no immediate or obvious reason. And he's clearly proud of the resultβas he probably should be for how little Dante tends to cookβand smiling at Vergil with all of his good intentions.] It...smells nice.
[Which isn't a false compliment even if it's a little on the weaker end while Vergil emotionally grapples with the state of the kitchen. He draws a steadying breath.]
What's the occasion?
( Shrug of his shoulders, he huffs. )
What? I need an occasion to cook?
( A chuckle then, he shakes his head as he brings the hot dish over to set on the table over a tea towel he laid down. Wouldn't want to get the table too hot after all! )
C'mon! Try some! I've been workin' my butt off in here.
( The lasagna itself looks... fine... save for the slightly burned edges, but. Definitely edible. Rich tomato sauce dripping between thick noodles stuffed with meat and a couple other vegetables β spice to taste! He proudly shows off the dish with his hands before he makes his way over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of red wine that he sets down beside the lasagna on the table there. )
And something to drink, too. I thought it might go well with it.
( Hands on his waist, he stands there and waits rather expectantly for his brother to sit down and try some, utensils already laid out there on the table along with a glass. Just, you know. Ignore the tomato sauce smeared across his cheek and forehead. Don't ask. )
What? I need an occasion to cook?
( A chuckle then, he shakes his head as he brings the hot dish over to set on the table over a tea towel he laid down. Wouldn't want to get the table too hot after all! )
C'mon! Try some! I've been workin' my butt off in here.
( The lasagna itself looks... fine... save for the slightly burned edges, but. Definitely edible. Rich tomato sauce dripping between thick noodles stuffed with meat and a couple other vegetables β spice to taste! He proudly shows off the dish with his hands before he makes his way over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of red wine that he sets down beside the lasagna on the table there. )
And something to drink, too. I thought it might go well with it.
( Hands on his waist, he stands there and waits rather expectantly for his brother to sit down and try some, utensils already laid out there on the table along with a glass. Just, you know. Ignore the tomato sauce smeared across his cheek and forehead. Don't ask. )
[As Dante steps away to place the lasagna down, Vergil pays one last look to his kitchen before following Dante over to the table. Standing there, he watches his brother dart back to the refrigerator for the wine he had been chilling.]
Youβ [His brow furrows a little, but it's not an angry one. It's the face Vergil always makes when he is actively trying to process something before him, and needs a moment to assess and take everything in.] You really put a lot of thought into this...
[He doesn't mean to sound so surprised necessarily. Vergil knows his brother, and he knows while Dante may have the tendency to act as though he doesn't know much of anything, he is exceptionally clever. He would not be able to be quite so improvisational in a fight if that were not the case, especially when going against an opponent he's never faced before. Nor would he be perceptive enough to read Vergil's mood with as little as Vergil often provides by way of hints about it. It's also not really that surprising Dante put so much thought into something he put his mind to doing. Even if he did end up with tomato sauce smeared across most of his face, and Vergil can't be too certain there isn't also some pieces of cheese somehow stuck in his hair.]
[But still...]
[Vergil draws a breath and his lips part to say something, but he hesitates for a moment as he looks from the dish of lasagna back to his brother. Slowly, he sits down in front of the place setting meant for him.]
You really just...did this. For me? Without any other motive other than you...wanted to do it?
[Vergil isn't trying to accuse Dante of being otherwise inconsiderate, nor is the question meant to imply Dante never thinks of Vergil. There's a few books on Vergil's bookshelf in his bedroom, and a family portrait that highlight that not being the case in the slightest even if Vergil doubted his brother. But this is a lot of effort. Lasagna is more complicated than it seems on its surface, and Dante could have just as easily used his Lore to summon a premade one that all he had to do with put in the oven and claim he made it himself. He also went to the trouble of finding a wine to match, and setting the table in advance.]
[Which is why he raised the question of what exactly the occasion happens to be whether there's something special that Dante wants to mark, or he has something he needs to tell Vergil and otherwise make up for (beyond the disaster of the kitchen, of course). It is so much effort for no particular reason.]
Youβ [His brow furrows a little, but it's not an angry one. It's the face Vergil always makes when he is actively trying to process something before him, and needs a moment to assess and take everything in.] You really put a lot of thought into this...
[He doesn't mean to sound so surprised necessarily. Vergil knows his brother, and he knows while Dante may have the tendency to act as though he doesn't know much of anything, he is exceptionally clever. He would not be able to be quite so improvisational in a fight if that were not the case, especially when going against an opponent he's never faced before. Nor would he be perceptive enough to read Vergil's mood with as little as Vergil often provides by way of hints about it. It's also not really that surprising Dante put so much thought into something he put his mind to doing. Even if he did end up with tomato sauce smeared across most of his face, and Vergil can't be too certain there isn't also some pieces of cheese somehow stuck in his hair.]
[But still...]
[Vergil draws a breath and his lips part to say something, but he hesitates for a moment as he looks from the dish of lasagna back to his brother. Slowly, he sits down in front of the place setting meant for him.]
You really just...did this. For me? Without any other motive other than you...wanted to do it?
[Vergil isn't trying to accuse Dante of being otherwise inconsiderate, nor is the question meant to imply Dante never thinks of Vergil. There's a few books on Vergil's bookshelf in his bedroom, and a family portrait that highlight that not being the case in the slightest even if Vergil doubted his brother. But this is a lot of effort. Lasagna is more complicated than it seems on its surface, and Dante could have just as easily used his Lore to summon a premade one that all he had to do with put in the oven and claim he made it himself. He also went to the trouble of finding a wine to match, and setting the table in advance.]
[Which is why he raised the question of what exactly the occasion happens to be whether there's something special that Dante wants to mark, or he has something he needs to tell Vergil and otherwise make up for (beyond the disaster of the kitchen, of course). It is so much effort for no particular reason.]
( Hell yeah he did. Itβs not everyday the youngest son of Sparda slaps an apron on and lets loose in the kitchen and while not a special occasion for his reason doing this, still isnβt everyday one catches him like this. Hell, he canβt even really remember the last time he did something like this for himselfβ¦. probably never. Unless heating up pre-packaged food counts.
He waits for his brother to get himself comfortable β hands clasped behind his back then with blue eyes sparkling with both curiosity and a certain sort of anxiety over whether or not heβll like any of this. He knows the suspicion is there β that heβs probably wondering what led to his wanting to suddenly do this out of the blue, but. He just stands there and waits, smiling like when they were kids and he was waiting for Vergil to give into his wanting to play with him.
Chuckle on his lips, he leans across the table some, bracing himself on a hand as he plucks a knife up and starts to cut into the lasagna there. )
Canβt a guy just wanna do something for his brother and not want something out of it? Weβre not eight anymore.
( Debatable with how they get sometimes, but.
Cutting into the lasagna, tongue sticking out a little with his concentration, he shovels a good sized portion out of the glass dish and plops it down on the plate there in front of Vergil, splashing some of the tomato sauce as he does. A chuckle, he cringes. )
Whoops. Heh.
( With the pad of his thumb, he brushes away the splash of sauce that got him on the cheek and licks it off, making a pleased little noise as he does before he eagerly points to the dish. )
That right there is culinary art.
( Another chuckle, he straightens himself up and stands there, lips pressed together as he anxiously waits⦠for his brother to give it a try. )
He waits for his brother to get himself comfortable β hands clasped behind his back then with blue eyes sparkling with both curiosity and a certain sort of anxiety over whether or not heβll like any of this. He knows the suspicion is there β that heβs probably wondering what led to his wanting to suddenly do this out of the blue, but. He just stands there and waits, smiling like when they were kids and he was waiting for Vergil to give into his wanting to play with him.
Chuckle on his lips, he leans across the table some, bracing himself on a hand as he plucks a knife up and starts to cut into the lasagna there. )
Canβt a guy just wanna do something for his brother and not want something out of it? Weβre not eight anymore.
( Debatable with how they get sometimes, but.
Cutting into the lasagna, tongue sticking out a little with his concentration, he shovels a good sized portion out of the glass dish and plops it down on the plate there in front of Vergil, splashing some of the tomato sauce as he does. A chuckle, he cringes. )
Whoops. Heh.
( With the pad of his thumb, he brushes away the splash of sauce that got him on the cheek and licks it off, making a pleased little noise as he does before he eagerly points to the dish. )
That right there is culinary art.
( Another chuckle, he straightens himself up and stands there, lips pressed together as he anxiously waits⦠for his brother to give it a try. )
[Culinary art might be a bit of a stretch, but Vergil is willing to let it slide without challenge. Somewhat clumsy plating aside, it doesn't smell offensive and the majority of it is golden brown rather than charred. It's certainly more than Vergil would have assumed his brother was capable of if he's honest. But that's a common mistake when it comes to Dante, isn't it? Underestimation that leads to him getting the element of surprise.]
[Picking up his fork, Vergil cuts a bite from the slice that Dante has plated up for him. He purposely takes from a portion of the slice that's in the interior to avoid any...crispier pieces along the edge for now. Truthfully, he could do without the expectant staring. Well, perhaps not staring, but certainly watching. Vergil understands his brother is perhaps a bit anxious and wants the dish to be well-received, but there's a limit to how closely Vergil would prefer he's watched while he eats. Hopefully it's just for this first bite. Vergil blows on it gently before eating it to avoid scalding his mouth and give it an overall fair chance.]
[...To Vergil's further surprise, it's not just not bad, it's competently made and quite good. The layers of meat sauce and cheese harmonize well with the spices Dante's put into it, and the veggies while tender make it a heartier bite than it would be with meat alone. He hums quietly, pleased with what his brother has managed to do, but waits until he's swallowed the bite before offering such direct feedback.]
You did well, Dante. I like it.
[Coming from anyone else, that would probably seems a touch insincere or like they were not particularly enthused. But that's high praise coming from Vergil.]
[Picking up his fork, Vergil cuts a bite from the slice that Dante has plated up for him. He purposely takes from a portion of the slice that's in the interior to avoid any...crispier pieces along the edge for now. Truthfully, he could do without the expectant staring. Well, perhaps not staring, but certainly watching. Vergil understands his brother is perhaps a bit anxious and wants the dish to be well-received, but there's a limit to how closely Vergil would prefer he's watched while he eats. Hopefully it's just for this first bite. Vergil blows on it gently before eating it to avoid scalding his mouth and give it an overall fair chance.]
[...To Vergil's further surprise, it's not just not bad, it's competently made and quite good. The layers of meat sauce and cheese harmonize well with the spices Dante's put into it, and the veggies while tender make it a heartier bite than it would be with meat alone. He hums quietly, pleased with what his brother has managed to do, but waits until he's swallowed the bite before offering such direct feedback.]
You did well, Dante. I like it.
[Coming from anyone else, that would probably seems a touch insincere or like they were not particularly enthused. But that's high praise coming from Vergil.]
( At that, he claps his hands β bark of laughter leaving him. )
Hot damn!
( A punch to the air, he grins β hand up with a few nods. )
Thank you, thank you. Let it be known that I, Dante, son of Sparda, not only slay demons, but slay in the kitchen as well.
( Chuckling and beaming all proudly there, he reaches over for the bottle of wine then and cracks that baby open, pouring his dear brother a rather generous amount there in the glass he has set out for him because, you know, it pairs well and all. Or so he figures. )
Hot damn!
( A punch to the air, he grins β hand up with a few nods. )
Thank you, thank you. Let it be known that I, Dante, son of Sparda, not only slay demons, but slay in the kitchen as well.
( Chuckling and beaming all proudly there, he reaches over for the bottle of wine then and cracks that baby open, pouring his dear brother a rather generous amount there in the glass he has set out for him because, you know, it pairs well and all. Or so he figures. )
[Vergil rolls his a little at the theatrics from Dante, but even if he wouldn't necessarily acknowledge his faint smile, Vergil doesn't rain on Dante's parade by telling him to knock it off or not to get so ahead of himself.]
So, what you are saying is you have no excuse next time I ask for your help in the kitchen, [he says as Dante pours the wine. That...is more than Vergil would have poured for himself. But again, he says nothing of it. Even with as little as Vergil tends to drink, it's nothing the demonic metabolism won't be able to quickly burn off before it has any real effect.] Is your plan to just watch me eat, or did you intend on sampling some of your work for yourself?
So, what you are saying is you have no excuse next time I ask for your help in the kitchen, [he says as Dante pours the wine. That...is more than Vergil would have poured for himself. But again, he says nothing of it. Even with as little as Vergil tends to drink, it's nothing the demonic metabolism won't be able to quickly burn off before it has any real effect.] Is your plan to just watch me eat, or did you intend on sampling some of your work for yourself?
What? It's all for you!
( He seems almost flabbergasted that Vergil would think otherwise. Wine bottle set down, he puts a hand on his waist then, chuckling softly. )
You can wrap it up in tin foil and take some with you when you go to do... ( this is where he waves a hand around ) ...you know. Whatever it is you do around here. Have a snack ready on hand! See? Look at that. I'm thinkin' ahead.
( To which he gives his temple a few taps with the tip of his finger. )
( He seems almost flabbergasted that Vergil would think otherwise. Wine bottle set down, he puts a hand on his waist then, chuckling softly. )
You can wrap it up in tin foil and take some with you when you go to do... ( this is where he waves a hand around ) ...you know. Whatever it is you do around here. Have a snack ready on hand! See? Look at that. I'm thinkin' ahead.
( To which he gives his temple a few taps with the tip of his finger. )
Try not to pass out from the strain of it, [Vergil teases lightly.] But you don't really expect me to be able to eat all of this on my own, do you?
[As much as Vergil's willing to let Dante be proud and excited of his work here, Vergil is not willing to dedicate three square meals a day to lasagna in order to get through a pan of lasagna before it becomes...off. Not that Vergil thinks a food-borne pathogen would really be enough to strike him down, but the taste sure as hell wouldn't be pleasant.]
Besides, if you're giving it to me, does that not mean I decide if I wish to share it or not?
[As much as Vergil's willing to let Dante be proud and excited of his work here, Vergil is not willing to dedicate three square meals a day to lasagna in order to get through a pan of lasagna before it becomes...off. Not that Vergil thinks a food-borne pathogen would really be enough to strike him down, but the taste sure as hell wouldn't be pleasant.]
Besides, if you're giving it to me, does that not mean I decide if I wish to share it or not?
( Rubbing at the stubble there on his chin, he gives it a bit of a think. Even hmmm's as he looks off in thought. )
Well if you want to share with Nero, it's not like I'm gonna stop you.
( Hand falling away, he chuckles, giving Vergil's shoulder a couple pats then. )
I'll help ya get through it, don't worry. It'll make for some good late night munchies.
Well if you want to share with Nero, it's not like I'm gonna stop you.
( Hand falling away, he chuckles, giving Vergil's shoulder a couple pats then. )
I'll help ya get through it, don't worry. It'll make for some good late night munchies.
[Vergil glances at his own shoulder to be certain there isn't any transference of tomato sauce or any other such mess to his shoulder. Fortunately for Dante, he gets to live to see another day. He pushes out a nearby chair out with his foot.]
At least sit down and stop hovering then if you're not going to eat any now. [It's weird, Dante.] Unless you'd rather start undoing the damage you've done to my kitchen.
At least sit down and stop hovering then if you're not going to eat any now. [It's weird, Dante.] Unless you'd rather start undoing the damage you've done to my kitchen.
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