[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.
[Vergil fixes Dante with a look when he says he'll take care of it later, wordlessly warning that later better come before the end of the night. Waking up in the morning to find the kitchen still the same would be a quick way to get on Vergil's bad side even when considering the lasagna.]
Just make sure the dishes are clean, and you've wiped down the counters and stovetop.
[He leaves it implied that he'll handle the rest at that point. The lasagna might not be able to spare Dante from Vergil's wrath if the kitchen is still a disaster come morning, but it is at least enough to get him out of having to clean and organize it entirely to Vergil's standards at the very least. As Vergil cuts another bite of lasagna off from his piece, he changes the subject.]
Dare I ask how you've been keeping yourself busy these days aside from exploring the culinary arts?
[Not that he hasn't seen Dante around at all, but he did go from a brief stint of keeping to his room before spending more time outside of the house. Thankfully after his little slip-up not that long ago, he hasn't resumed cooping himself up, but it does mean it's been a while since the sons of Sparda were home at the same time.]
( Plucking a fork from the table, he looks it over as he considers his brother's question, smile faint on his lips. )
Seeing what this place has to offer in terms of extracurricular activities.
( Twirling the fork around a couple times, he leans over the table and stabs it in the lasagna, helping himself to a piece which he brings to his mouth with the help of his other hand there beneath it so as not to accidentally drop any. )
You been to the swamps around here? They've got some pretty wild things to dance with there.
( Shoveling the serving in his mouth, he chews happily, dropping himself back down into his seat as he smiles to his brother. )
[Vergil shakes his head a little as he's swallowing his bite of lasagna.]
I haven't ventured to Exile at all. [He's heard enough tell of it to not want to venture too deep into that region.] But I have heard the swamps are particularly dangerous.
[Vergil is not referring to the creatures that wander the area, however, so much as the mental effect the region appears to have on those who enter.]
I'll say. Whole lot of dangerous swamp babes around there.
( Waggling his eyebrows, he chuckles then, clearly teasing but also not really because... he's encountered a couple of those in the times he's wandered his way to a particular bog. Nothing he couldn't handle and usually tends to make it out with little to no scratches. Aside from Cruel Summer, Exile really is one of the only other places he's found with a bit more of a challenge to take on when dancing with the creatures there.
Reaching over, he takes another small forkful of lasagna for himself β shovels that baby in as well before he's settling back in his seat once more. )
Keeps me busy, I guess. It's not like back home where I usually get someone comin' to me for somethin' or getting calls on the phone about a job needing to be done. I kind of miss it sometimes.
( He felt he had more of a purpose back home. Here? He's not so sure. )
[As Dante speaks Vergil has another bite of lasagna, and simply listens. Although he still wrinkles his nose at the mention of "swamp babes." He does not ask because he does not wish to know.]
[Vergil is not certain if it's particularly surprising to hear Dante acknowledge he misses devil hunting. On the one hand, Dante's never done well with being still. And it's not as though Vergil has somehow allowed for his skills to atrophy since coming to Folkmore. He's sparred with Mizu countless times since nearly the beginning, and while that does not exactly translate to what he needs to defeat a demon, it's been wonderful for honing on his technique if nothing else. ABarring that, on occasion, he found himself in the fighting pits or putting down monsters that may manifest themselves as a result of trials. And now he has the opportunity to train Nero and put his skills to a greater test by sparring with Dante. Vergil does not have a reason to really seek out more than that. Not like Dante seeking out creatures in Exile.]
[On the other and arguably more important hand, Vergil would think the lack of violent responsibilities would come as a bit of a reprieve for Dante after... Well, it's been a few decades, hasn't it? At least since they were eighteen. Maybe longer. Vergil remains on-guard himself even a year later with so few threats, but he would be lying if he said he didn't find some measure of relief in truly knowing there was nothing hunting him for the first time in his life. There's a semblance of peace that comes with it, anyways. He would think Dante would feel the same way, and whatever thrill he might seek from his work would not bear much weight in light of that.]
[He looks at Dante with a furrowed brow, confused as he concludes that no, it actually is surprising to hear Dante say that. He would think this is what Dante has probably always wanted from the beginning: a mundane life without the shadow of their father's legacy looming over him. He gets to be himself.]
...You miss fighting for your life on a regular basis? [He wrinkles his nose again with a shake of his head. As he gets another bite of lasagna, he says,] I would think you would leap at the chance to indulge in other facets of your life that have been neglected because of your duties. After all, you have made it clear you feel strongly that I essentially do as much.
[Vergil's almost certain Dante is going to claim it's different given their circumstances. And maybe it is, but Vergil doesn't think it necessarily means he's wrong to draw a comparison and reach such a conclusion.]
( Smile on his lips, he chuckles, shake of his head to follow. )
I said kind of. Itβs a figure of speech. Donβt take it so literal, Verge.
( Itβs just familiar and something heβs grown used to, if even unwillingly, over the years. Routine as they say. Even when heβd followed after his brother to the underworld, he knew there would be demons waiting to try their luck on the sons of Sparda. Foolish on their part, like always, but just another day that ended in y. Only difference was, he had his brother alongside him instead of the others.
It sucks they had to leave Nero behind as they did, but. He knew theyβd figure a way back to the human realm. As if anything or any place could ever really defeat him or his brother. At least Neroβs here now, justβ¦ away from Kyrie, his friends, and the orphans, which he knows is hard for him sometimes. To have the chance to be with your father finally but unable to be with your lady loveβ¦ gotta hurt some days. He knows it does β has seen the kid get gloomy about it. Talk about a double-edged sword.
Licking the sauce off the fork, he shrugs. )
Also, I did leap. After you. Whether or not this place is permanent, youβre here and thatβs all Iβve really wanted.
( To have his brother back. )
If you werenβt, I wouldnβt have got to make you this super amazing lasagna that is probably your favorite dish ever now.
( Teasing some, but. Heβs also quite proud that Vergil likes his dish. )
[Vergil says nothing right away, contemplative as he stabs a piece of meat that managed to flee from its layer and pushing it in some of the sauce on his plate idly. He had been here for nine months beginning to work towards ten on his own before Dante arrived. It wasn't as though Vergil somehow didn't miss his brother in that time, and he certainly wished Dante would be one of those bright lights falling from the heavens rather than toiling away in the Underworld still, but... Well, it was a bit like how accustomed Dante became with his devil hunting. Vergil had gotten accustomed to being on his own. He didn't miss Dante every waking minute of every day because his absence felt normal. Expected.]
[So, in truth, it's been more disquieting for Vergil to have his brother around than not. Which Vergil feels immense guilt over admitting even privately just to himself, but it's the truth. He knows more of how to be a father to Nero than he knows to be a brother to Dante. He has the example of Sparda before him and while not a perfectly clean slate, it's at least not a long of a history as what lies between brothers to give him a starting point with Nero. He has no such equivalent with Dante. Only how they were as children, which Vergil struggles to find applicable considering neither of them are the children they used to be.]
[And maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why Vergil struggles so much in knowing how to be Dante's brother again. Dante isn't the snot-nosed little brat who could always make Vergil laugh despite his hot, angry tears and self-serious temperament. He isn't that kid who never seemed to worry about consequences, chasing after what was fun without a care in the world. For all the accusations Vergil gives Dante about being immature, he grew up. He changed. Vergil did, too. And yet, they still so often try to treat each other like those little boys that used to beat each other bloody, but would have done anything for his twin. As though no time at all had passed.]
[Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. They get stuck when it doesn't, and both seem to lack ideas of how to recover from it. Vergil can't and won't speak for Dante, but he knows he walks away from it disheartened when that happens. Even when it feels earned because of the choices Vergil made or Vergil can recognize Dante isn't the child he used to be and someone he still has so much work to do in getting to know again...]
[Dante tells Vergil time and time again not to worry and claims to have it all under control, and probably thinks he's doing Vergil a kindness in doing as much. In his mind, he likely thinks that he's somehow freeing Vergil up from worry and responsibilities that could somehow distract from what he needs or wants. But the reality is that Vergl feels brushed aside. And that's the rub. Dante says he needs Vergil, wants him around, but it feels like every time there's that possibility to be let in? Dante pushes back. Not usually in any sort of anger, and certainly not with hostility even when Vergil does push a button, but... He pushes back all the same, and Vergil finds himself at a loss with what to do. Sometimes he gets in his head, wondering if he did something wrong. Other times, he stews in a mild amount of frustration of wanting Dante to let him be his big brother again in ways that matter and count to them now and not the past.]
[A question rests at the tip of his tongue, but Vergil recognizes it as selfish, which means it has a greater capacity to be hurtful. So, he doesn't ask Dante if he has any regrets about following him into the Underworld, into Folkmore. Looking for such reassurance seems childish anyways, and what sort of foolish question is that in the first place? Of course Dante would have regrets. Maybe not enough to make him choose other than as he did, but there were things about home he must miss beyond his work.]
You would have enjoyed aspects of the false reality the Fox attempted to deceive me with then.
[Eva never died, brothers were never separated, and Nero grew up with his parents, his family. Sparda was still gone within the illusion, but maybe the Fox felt it would have been too obvious a lie to have given Vergil that much. It perhaps would have seemed too ideal to be tempted by it in that circumstance, but Eva's mere presence was ultimately enough for Vergil to mistrust it.]
I suspect because both of you are here in Folkmore that you and Nero were away in the illusion, but from all that I could observe before Mizu and I were able to leave, we had never been separated from one another. [He sets his fork down, the piece of meat ultimately untouched.] She seemed to believe such ideals could lead me astray if left to implication, but I have the both of you here now and that will not change even once we leave this place.
I have little need for a pretty lie in comparison.
[He glances at Dante then, drawing a breath and releasing it.]
Although I will not pretend I felt nothing upon seeing her again.
[He doesn't bother clarifying that it was their mother. He trusts Dante can put that together for himself.]
( Gently stabbing his fork into a napkin, he slowly twists it about back and forth while staring to it, smile barely a ghost of one there on his lips. )
Yeah. I miss her, too.
( He always had and always all. Just as he had with Vergil before he came back as he did. Honestly probably a good thing he didnβt end up on some train ride because heβd find it more insulting to puppet some fake version of his mother than something heβs wish was true. Then again, heβs had years and years to grieve and mourn her, though it doesnβt diminish how he still misses her. )
I still get nightmares of that. Even at this age. Kind of dumb, huh? Youβd think thatβd pass with time.
( Theyβre never as bad or as frequent as the first decade or so after it happened, but. Theyβre still enough to jolt him awake suddenly β sometimes to the point where heβs not sure where he is the first few seconds upon waking, but. He still gets them. Different pieces and versions of them, and he hates them every time.
Napkin all twisted up there in his fork, he pulls it away and smiles a little up to Vergil then. )
Sheβd be proud of you, you know. How far youβve come. I know you might balk at the thought of that because of the past and all, but. You overcame it all in the end and I think she always knew you would.
[He says nothing to the nightmares, but noticably, Vergil's eyes avert ever so briefly. Vergil finds no fault in Dante sometimes dreaming of that day when they, unfortunately, have that in common. It bears too much weight on them, on the man and devil they became, for it not to return on occasion even if not to the intensity and frequency it had shortly after it happened.]
Maybe, [Vergil says faintly, eyes dropping to his plate for a moment. It's less a matter of doubting Eva's capacity for forgiving his sins or to love him in spite of what he became, and more Vergil doesn't know that he would let her. He could only face the version of his mother in that alternate reality because she had no knowledge of who he is or what he has done. That wasn't her reality, and thus, it remained a non-issue in whether or not she could look at him with love and pride. So, for as fake as it had been, it was simpler, too. And that was probably why it was meant to tempt him. Vergil couldn't break his mother's heart like that. Not now. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to face her. But there in that false reality? It was of little risk to him. She loved him, and he did not need to think of any reason why she shouldn't. Leaning forward and hunching a little, Vergil brushes it aside and picks up his fork again for another bite of lasagna.] It doesn't really matter. She isn't here.
[And speculating is pointless. Maybe Dante is right. Maybe Vergil is. They will never know either way.]
( Quiet, he looks down to the napkin again β allows himself a brief smile before he gives a sigh. )
I mean... she is to me. I carry her with me. In my heart. I carried you, too.
( Until he had him back in his life again. He still does, just. It's different now. Since he's here. A different sort of carrying him within his heart. Then, perhaps a little more softly and almost shyly, the words to leave him are ones with a sadness to them. )
And dad.
( With the pad of his thumb, he presses at the corner of his eye β stops the tear there β and stands then, blowing out a dramatic sigh as he rolls his shoulders and swings his arms, fork dropped to the napkin. )
You really like it? ( He stares to him almost a little sheepishly. ) You know it's my first time making that, right?
[It's not the existence of Dante holding any sort of positive regard for their father that pulls Vergil's gaze back to his twin. Regardless of how much in the forefront Dante's resentments towards Sparda often is, Vergil knows by virtue of his own previously held resentment towards Eva that it's not so straightforward as that. Resentment like that is only born after a great love and admiration was betrayed, but it does not inherently mean the total destruction of it. For as much as Vergil resented Eva for not saving him and when it deepened all the further to discover his brother lived, no amount of anger or hatred towards her could unmake his contrary feelings. But Vergil is surprised to hear Dante acknowledge it aloud, particularly to him of all people.]
[He looks back down to his plate again, expression slightly pinched as he holds back the swell of emotion that Dante dances away from in his own way.]
[Oh, Vergil is angry and remains so when it comes to using their mother as she had been during the trial. But he misses her. He misses her, and he misses their father. And he hates that there is still yet this foolish, childish wish that somehow their family could have somehow come out of everything unscathed. Vergil draws a breath though because it is as he said to Trish. He has no desire to dwell in the past, to hopelessly wish for things that cannot be. Their parents are dead, and they are not the children they once were. The only thing there is now is what's directly in front of Vergil, and that's where he'd prefer to put his energy.]
[Vergil smiles faintly at Dante.]
I wouldn't be able to tell it was your first time making it. [Vergil taps a bit of the burnt edge on his piece as with the prongs of his fork and lightly teases,] Maybe a little less time in the oven and try to wear less of it next time, but you did well, little brother.
( He's unable to help the swell of pride he can feel in his chest at his dear big brother liking his cooking. What little brother isn't always after their big brother's approval, after all?
Nod of his head, he plants his hands on his waist and smiles. Pleased. With the outcome of his cooking and the fact that Vergil seems to like it. Maybe it's not his most favorite thing ever, but. It's enough to put a smile on the youngest son of Sparda's face and that's really all he was going for anyways with all this.
With that, he slips himself away from the chair and goes about loading up the sink with the dirty dishes from his creation. )
I'm thinkin' quiche next time. Yanno. When I get in the mood to rock out in the kitchen. You ever had that?
( Who's to say when that will be, but. There might very well be an encore of this performance sometime in the future. Date to be determined, naturally. )
[Vergil stays where he is at the table and shakes his head fondly as Dante moves back into the kitchen. He finally reaches for the wine. It's unlikely Vergil will drink the whole glass, but he's willing to at least have a few sips. It's a drier wine than Vergil would personally prefer under most circumstances if he were to choose to drink in the first place, but the red fruit and smokey quality to its flavor does undoubtedly pair nicely with the sauce that his brother put together.]
He makes one lasagna and suddenly he has high ambitions of perfecting a pie crust... [Despite Vergil's teasing, he's not unconvinced Dante can't do it. If he managed to pull out a decent lasagna and pair with a nice wine, surely he can manage an adequately flaky pie crust for a quiche. He waves his free hand as he gets another bite of lasagna.] Some morning when you feel the urge to be in charge of breakfast for us, the kitchen is yours.
[There isn't any reason as far as Vergil can see that Nero should miss out.]
( Glancing back over his shoulder, he chuckles. There's really no guarantee on when he'll get around to doing this, but. It's a thought he'll certainly tuck away to consider for some point in the future. For now, he's focused on putting all the dishes into the sink that he begins to fill with soapy hot water, deciding to let them soak in there and... tackle it all later.
Shaking the suds off his hands, he turns on his heel to face his brother and smiles again that he seems to be wining and dining there at the table. )
[None of the dishes or utensils Dante's used would be damaged from a prolonged soak should Dante forget, and it falls upon Vergil to finish cleaning them.]
( Pleased little hum, he nods β hands gripping under the counter he leans against. )
You good with that? ( To which he points to the lasagna. ) Or you want me to wrap the rest up and put it in the fridge?
( Not that he's assuming Vergil's going to devour the whole damn thing right then and there, but. He's not about to put it away if he wants a little more. )
Leave it out, [he says, shaking his head a little. Vergil may not be the bottomless pits his brother and son are, but he will still have a little more of the lasagna his brother went to all that effort to make.] You should let it cool off a little more anyways before you put it away.
Well, good thing you told me. I would have just tossed her on in there.
( Chuckle, he shakes his head. Something he'll have to keep a mental note of for any future cooking endeavors. But, seeing how the dishes are going to soak and Vergil's been enjoying his meal, he feels like this was a success on his part. )
[Dante means to tell Vergil that he not only baked a lasagna for the first time and chose an appropriate wine, he also went to the trouble of arrange dessert? Well, it's a good thing Dante already went through the trouble of assuring Vergil there was no ulterior motive behind any of this because otherwise, the elder son of Sparda would have questions.]
Yeah? C'mon, Verge. You can't have dinner without dessert.
( What kind of a guy is he? Chuckle on his lips and a shake of his head at the audacity, he pulls open the fridge and retrieves said dessert... which happens to be a chocolate mousse. No, no. Strawberry sundae would be a little overkill just like the pizza, so. He'd decided on a mousse which, thankfully, had been super easy to make.
Bowl placed down in front of his brother, he shows it off with dramatic hand gestures. )
Wow. You try and do somethin' nice and this is what ya get.
( Waving his brother off, he plucks a spoon off the table and plops it in the bowl of mousse for him since, well. He's not going to eat it with his hands or tongue. )
Or would you have rather vanilla? Strawberry would be more my taste.
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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.
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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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Whattaya mean? That's for you. I cooked, you clean.
( Smiling to his brother, he laughs after a moment, shaking his head and waving a hand. )
Just kidding. I'll take care of it later.
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Just make sure the dishes are clean, and you've wiped down the counters and stovetop.
[He leaves it implied that he'll handle the rest at that point. The lasagna might not be able to spare Dante from Vergil's wrath if the kitchen is still a disaster come morning, but it is at least enough to get him out of having to clean and organize it entirely to Vergil's standards at the very least. As Vergil cuts another bite of lasagna off from his piece, he changes the subject.]
Dare I ask how you've been keeping yourself busy these days aside from exploring the culinary arts?
[Not that he hasn't seen Dante around at all, but he did go from a brief stint of keeping to his room before spending more time outside of the house. Thankfully after his little slip-up not that long ago, he hasn't resumed cooping himself up, but it does mean it's been a while since the sons of Sparda were home at the same time.]
no subject
Seeing what this place has to offer in terms of extracurricular activities.
( Twirling the fork around a couple times, he leans over the table and stabs it in the lasagna, helping himself to a piece which he brings to his mouth with the help of his other hand there beneath it so as not to accidentally drop any. )
You been to the swamps around here? They've got some pretty wild things to dance with there.
( Shoveling the serving in his mouth, he chews happily, dropping himself back down into his seat as he smiles to his brother. )
no subject
I haven't ventured to Exile at all. [He's heard enough tell of it to not want to venture too deep into that region.] But I have heard the swamps are particularly dangerous.
[Vergil is not referring to the creatures that wander the area, however, so much as the mental effect the region appears to have on those who enter.]
no subject
( Waggling his eyebrows, he chuckles then, clearly teasing but also not really because... he's encountered a couple of those in the times he's wandered his way to a particular bog. Nothing he couldn't handle and usually tends to make it out with little to no scratches. Aside from Cruel Summer, Exile really is one of the only other places he's found with a bit more of a challenge to take on when dancing with the creatures there.
Reaching over, he takes another small forkful of lasagna for himself β shovels that baby in as well before he's settling back in his seat once more. )
Keeps me busy, I guess. It's not like back home where I usually get someone comin' to me for somethin' or getting calls on the phone about a job needing to be done. I kind of miss it sometimes.
( He felt he had more of a purpose back home. Here? He's not so sure. )
no subject
[Vergil is not certain if it's particularly surprising to hear Dante acknowledge he misses devil hunting. On the one hand, Dante's never done well with being still. And it's not as though Vergil has somehow allowed for his skills to atrophy since coming to Folkmore. He's sparred with Mizu countless times since nearly the beginning, and while that does not exactly translate to what he needs to defeat a demon, it's been wonderful for honing on his technique if nothing else. ABarring that, on occasion, he found himself in the fighting pits or putting down monsters that may manifest themselves as a result of trials. And now he has the opportunity to train Nero and put his skills to a greater test by sparring with Dante. Vergil does not have a reason to really seek out more than that. Not like Dante seeking out creatures in Exile.]
[On the other and arguably more important hand, Vergil would think the lack of violent responsibilities would come as a bit of a reprieve for Dante after... Well, it's been a few decades, hasn't it? At least since they were eighteen. Maybe longer. Vergil remains on-guard himself even a year later with so few threats, but he would be lying if he said he didn't find some measure of relief in truly knowing there was nothing hunting him for the first time in his life. There's a semblance of peace that comes with it, anyways. He would think Dante would feel the same way, and whatever thrill he might seek from his work would not bear much weight in light of that.]
[He looks at Dante with a furrowed brow, confused as he concludes that no, it actually is surprising to hear Dante say that. He would think this is what Dante has probably always wanted from the beginning: a mundane life without the shadow of their father's legacy looming over him. He gets to be himself.]
...You miss fighting for your life on a regular basis? [He wrinkles his nose again with a shake of his head. As he gets another bite of lasagna, he says,] I would think you would leap at the chance to indulge in other facets of your life that have been neglected because of your duties. After all, you have made it clear you feel strongly that I essentially do as much.
[Vergil's almost certain Dante is going to claim it's different given their circumstances. And maybe it is, but Vergil doesn't think it necessarily means he's wrong to draw a comparison and reach such a conclusion.]
no subject
I said kind of. Itβs a figure of speech. Donβt take it so literal, Verge.
( Itβs just familiar and something heβs grown used to, if even unwillingly, over the years. Routine as they say. Even when heβd followed after his brother to the underworld, he knew there would be demons waiting to try their luck on the sons of Sparda. Foolish on their part, like always, but just another day that ended in y. Only difference was, he had his brother alongside him instead of the others.
It sucks they had to leave Nero behind as they did, but. He knew theyβd figure a way back to the human realm. As if anything or any place could ever really defeat him or his brother. At least Neroβs here now, justβ¦ away from Kyrie, his friends, and the orphans, which he knows is hard for him sometimes. To have the chance to be with your father finally but unable to be with your lady loveβ¦ gotta hurt some days. He knows it does β has seen the kid get gloomy about it. Talk about a double-edged sword.
Licking the sauce off the fork, he shrugs. )
Also, I did leap. After you. Whether or not this place is permanent, youβre here and thatβs all Iβve really wanted.
( To have his brother back. )
If you werenβt, I wouldnβt have got to make you this super amazing lasagna that is probably your favorite dish ever now.
( Teasing some, but. Heβs also quite proud that Vergil likes his dish. )
no subject
[So, in truth, it's been more disquieting for Vergil to have his brother around than not. Which Vergil feels immense guilt over admitting even privately just to himself, but it's the truth. He knows more of how to be a father to Nero than he knows to be a brother to Dante. He has the example of Sparda before him and while not a perfectly clean slate, it's at least not a long of a history as what lies between brothers to give him a starting point with Nero. He has no such equivalent with Dante. Only how they were as children, which Vergil struggles to find applicable considering neither of them are the children they used to be.]
[And maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why Vergil struggles so much in knowing how to be Dante's brother again. Dante isn't the snot-nosed little brat who could always make Vergil laugh despite his hot, angry tears and self-serious temperament. He isn't that kid who never seemed to worry about consequences, chasing after what was fun without a care in the world. For all the accusations Vergil gives Dante about being immature, he grew up. He changed. Vergil did, too. And yet, they still so often try to treat each other like those little boys that used to beat each other bloody, but would have done anything for his twin. As though no time at all had passed.]
[Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. They get stuck when it doesn't, and both seem to lack ideas of how to recover from it. Vergil can't and won't speak for Dante, but he knows he walks away from it disheartened when that happens. Even when it feels earned because of the choices Vergil made or Vergil can recognize Dante isn't the child he used to be and someone he still has so much work to do in getting to know again...]
[Dante tells Vergil time and time again not to worry and claims to have it all under control, and probably thinks he's doing Vergil a kindness in doing as much. In his mind, he likely thinks that he's somehow freeing Vergil up from worry and responsibilities that could somehow distract from what he needs or wants. But the reality is that Vergl feels brushed aside. And that's the rub. Dante says he needs Vergil, wants him around, but it feels like every time there's that possibility to be let in? Dante pushes back. Not usually in any sort of anger, and certainly not with hostility even when Vergil does push a button, but... He pushes back all the same, and Vergil finds himself at a loss with what to do. Sometimes he gets in his head, wondering if he did something wrong. Other times, he stews in a mild amount of frustration of wanting Dante to let him be his big brother again in ways that matter and count to them now and not the past.]
[A question rests at the tip of his tongue, but Vergil recognizes it as selfish, which means it has a greater capacity to be hurtful. So, he doesn't ask Dante if he has any regrets about following him into the Underworld, into Folkmore. Looking for such reassurance seems childish anyways, and what sort of foolish question is that in the first place? Of course Dante would have regrets. Maybe not enough to make him choose other than as he did, but there were things about home he must miss beyond his work.]
You would have enjoyed aspects of the false reality the Fox attempted to deceive me with then.
[Eva never died, brothers were never separated, and Nero grew up with his parents, his family. Sparda was still gone within the illusion, but maybe the Fox felt it would have been too obvious a lie to have given Vergil that much. It perhaps would have seemed too ideal to be tempted by it in that circumstance, but Eva's mere presence was ultimately enough for Vergil to mistrust it.]
I suspect because both of you are here in Folkmore that you and Nero were away in the illusion, but from all that I could observe before Mizu and I were able to leave, we had never been separated from one another. [He sets his fork down, the piece of meat ultimately untouched.] She seemed to believe such ideals could lead me astray if left to implication, but I have the both of you here now and that will not change even once we leave this place.
I have little need for a pretty lie in comparison.
[He glances at Dante then, drawing a breath and releasing it.]
Although I will not pretend I felt nothing upon seeing her again.
[He doesn't bother clarifying that it was their mother. He trusts Dante can put that together for himself.]
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Yeah. I miss her, too.
( He always had and always all. Just as he had with Vergil before he came back as he did. Honestly probably a good thing he didnβt end up on some train ride because heβd find it more insulting to puppet some fake version of his mother than something heβs wish was true. Then again, heβs had years and years to grieve and mourn her, though it doesnβt diminish how he still misses her. )
I still get nightmares of that. Even at this age. Kind of dumb, huh? Youβd think thatβd pass with time.
( Theyβre never as bad or as frequent as the first decade or so after it happened, but. Theyβre still enough to jolt him awake suddenly β sometimes to the point where heβs not sure where he is the first few seconds upon waking, but. He still gets them. Different pieces and versions of them, and he hates them every time.
Napkin all twisted up there in his fork, he pulls it away and smiles a little up to Vergil then. )
Sheβd be proud of you, you know. How far youβve come. I know you might balk at the thought of that because of the past and all, but. You overcame it all in the end and I think she always knew you would.
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Maybe, [Vergil says faintly, eyes dropping to his plate for a moment. It's less a matter of doubting Eva's capacity for forgiving his sins or to love him in spite of what he became, and more Vergil doesn't know that he would let her. He could only face the version of his mother in that alternate reality because she had no knowledge of who he is or what he has done. That wasn't her reality, and thus, it remained a non-issue in whether or not she could look at him with love and pride. So, for as fake as it had been, it was simpler, too. And that was probably why it was meant to tempt him. Vergil couldn't break his mother's heart like that. Not now. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to face her. But there in that false reality? It was of little risk to him. She loved him, and he did not need to think of any reason why she shouldn't. Leaning forward and hunching a little, Vergil brushes it aside and picks up his fork again for another bite of lasagna.] It doesn't really matter. She isn't here.
[And speculating is pointless. Maybe Dante is right. Maybe Vergil is. They will never know either way.]
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I mean... she is to me. I carry her with me. In my heart. I carried you, too.
( Until he had him back in his life again. He still does, just. It's different now. Since he's here. A different sort of carrying him within his heart. Then, perhaps a little more softly and almost shyly, the words to leave him are ones with a sadness to them. )
And dad.
( With the pad of his thumb, he presses at the corner of his eye β stops the tear there β and stands then, blowing out a dramatic sigh as he rolls his shoulders and swings his arms, fork dropped to the napkin. )
You really like it? ( He stares to him almost a little sheepishly. ) You know it's my first time making that, right?
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[He looks back down to his plate again, expression slightly pinched as he holds back the swell of emotion that Dante dances away from in his own way.]
[Oh, Vergil is angry and remains so when it comes to using their mother as she had been during the trial. But he misses her. He misses her, and he misses their father. And he hates that there is still yet this foolish, childish wish that somehow their family could have somehow come out of everything unscathed. Vergil draws a breath though because it is as he said to Trish. He has no desire to dwell in the past, to hopelessly wish for things that cannot be. Their parents are dead, and they are not the children they once were. The only thing there is now is what's directly in front of Vergil, and that's where he'd prefer to put his energy.]
[Vergil smiles faintly at Dante.]
I wouldn't be able to tell it was your first time making it. [Vergil taps a bit of the burnt edge on his piece as with the prongs of his fork and lightly teases,] Maybe a little less time in the oven and try to wear less of it next time, but you did well, little brother.
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Nod of his head, he plants his hands on his waist and smiles. Pleased. With the outcome of his cooking and the fact that Vergil seems to like it. Maybe it's not his most favorite thing ever, but. It's enough to put a smile on the youngest son of Sparda's face and that's really all he was going for anyways with all this.
With that, he slips himself away from the chair and goes about loading up the sink with the dirty dishes from his creation. )
I'm thinkin' quiche next time. Yanno. When I get in the mood to rock out in the kitchen. You ever had that?
( Who's to say when that will be, but. There might very well be an encore of this performance sometime in the future. Date to be determined, naturally. )
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He makes one lasagna and suddenly he has high ambitions of perfecting a pie crust... [Despite Vergil's teasing, he's not unconvinced Dante can't do it. If he managed to pull out a decent lasagna and pair with a nice wine, surely he can manage an adequately flaky pie crust for a quiche. He waves his free hand as he gets another bite of lasagna.] Some morning when you feel the urge to be in charge of breakfast for us, the kitchen is yours.
[There isn't any reason as far as Vergil can see that Nero should miss out.]
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( Glancing back over his shoulder, he chuckles. There's really no guarantee on when he'll get around to doing this, but. It's a thought he'll certainly tuck away to consider for some point in the future. For now, he's focused on putting all the dishes into the sink that he begins to fill with soapy hot water, deciding to let them soak in there and... tackle it all later.
Shaking the suds off his hands, he turns on his heel to face his brother and smiles again that he seems to be wining and dining there at the table. )
You mind if I leave those there?
( The dishes, he means. )
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They'll be fine.
[None of the dishes or utensils Dante's used would be damaged from a prolonged soak should Dante forget, and it falls upon Vergil to finish cleaning them.]
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You good with that? ( To which he points to the lasagna. ) Or you want me to wrap the rest up and put it in the fridge?
( Not that he's assuming Vergil's going to devour the whole damn thing right then and there, but. He's not about to put it away if he wants a little more. )
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( He rubs at his chin in thought. )
Well, good thing you told me. I would have just tossed her on in there.
( Chuckle, he shakes his head. Something he'll have to keep a mental note of for any future cooking endeavors. But, seeing how the dishes are going to soak and Vergil's been enjoying his meal, he feels like this was a success on his part. )
You good for dessert or no?
( Because he has one more trick up his sleeve. )
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Dessert?
[Dante means to tell Vergil that he not only baked a lasagna for the first time and chose an appropriate wine, he also went to the trouble of arrange dessert? Well, it's a good thing Dante already went through the trouble of assuring Vergil there was no ulterior motive behind any of this because otherwise, the elder son of Sparda would have questions.]
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( What kind of a guy is he? Chuckle on his lips and a shake of his head at the audacity, he pulls open the fridge and retrieves said dessert... which happens to be a chocolate mousse. No, no. Strawberry sundae would be a little overkill just like the pizza, so. He'd decided on a mousse which, thankfully, had been super easy to make.
Bowl placed down in front of his brother, he shows it off with dramatic hand gestures. )
Ta-dah! Chef Dante presents mousse au chocolat!
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Who are you and what have you done with my brother?
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( Waving his brother off, he plucks a spoon off the table and plops it in the bowl of mousse for him since, well. He's not going to eat it with his hands or tongue. )
Or would you have rather vanilla? Strawberry would be more my taste.
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