( When Vergil's own devil steps forward, if even partly, he feels a rise in his back — defensive without even meaning to be. Given the years of being at odds with one another, it's more a kneejerk reaction than anything else, but. It's fleeting the moment he sees there is no threat to be concerned with, no fight to suddenly erupt between them. Just two partly changed devils who share human blood within them.
Bright red eyes watch the other devil's face — quiet in the way his gaze sweeps over his brother's arm and the power he can feel gently radiating off him. It's familiar enough — one he's met time and time again when facing his brother. It simply feels different than usual given the circumstances... given the fact that they are not at each other's throats. To be wearing his demonic skin as he is, even just barely as he is, it has him feel some sort of way about it and with the way Vergil looks to him, he doesn't hold it for very long. Because with Dante, it's always a matter of holding it — controlling it rather than simply letting it be.
Fire gently rolls over him and the scales disappear from his face and hand, as do the claws and the red burning there in his eyes. He ducks his head some — lets himself take a breath, then smiles lazily up to his brother before he's letting his hand slip away from him. )
You're a sap. Anyone ever tell you that?
( A bit of lightheartedness so as to go back to feeling like himself and tuck the devil away again. )
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Bright red eyes watch the other devil's face — quiet in the way his gaze sweeps over his brother's arm and the power he can feel gently radiating off him. It's familiar enough — one he's met time and time again when facing his brother. It simply feels different than usual given the circumstances... given the fact that they are not at each other's throats. To be wearing his demonic skin as he is, even just barely as he is, it has him feel some sort of way about it and with the way Vergil looks to him, he doesn't hold it for very long. Because with Dante, it's always a matter of holding it — controlling it rather than simply letting it be.
Fire gently rolls over him and the scales disappear from his face and hand, as do the claws and the red burning there in his eyes. He ducks his head some — lets himself take a breath, then smiles lazily up to his brother before he's letting his hand slip away from him. )
You're a sap. Anyone ever tell you that?
( A bit of lightheartedness so as to go back to feeling like himself and tuck the devil away again. )