( On this particular day in late October when Vergil decides to retire to his room for whatever reason, he will find a stack of books β four of them to be precise β resting neatly at the foot of his bed above the sheets. The titles he will find in the stack upon closer inspection will be two by poet William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell and Songs of Innocence, as well as two by poet John Milton, Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. There's no card or note to indicate where or who they came from. Perhaps a gift from the book fairy of Folkmore? Who's to say. They're just there. On his bed. Waiting to be discovered and loved. )
[It's an incredibly short list of possible suspects for the books that have seemingly magically manifested upon his bed one night. By which it is meant there is really only one feasible suspect of the three people who would even consider gifting Vergil anything in all of Folkmore. Two out of those three only know that Vergil has a fondness for literature, but could not likely narrow it further. Well, perhaps that is a touch unfair. They could go potentially go so far as to correctly answer that Vergil prefers poetry to prose most of the time, but these books are far, far too specific of choices to have been the degree of coincidence that it would take for Nero or Mizu to have gotten them. And Vergil does still, after all, remember his childhood bedroom and its bookshelf. He could always tell in an instant when something was missing from it even when there wasn't an obvious gap or books leaning when they had once been upright and orderly.]
[And he always knew the culprit back then, too.]
[For that night, he leaves them on his nightstand, staring at them in the dark, his gaze tracing the lettering on their spines until he can take it no longer. Vergil flips on the light on the nightstand and plucks the book at the top of the stack. When he wakes in the morning, his thumb lightly holds his place as the book rests on the pillow beside his face, the nightstand light still on.]
[Vergil lets it be entirely for a little while after the books' appearance, the books resting neatly on the overall barren bookshelf when not in use. (Vergil notices occasionally they're not quite as they were left behind, but... Who knows with all the commotion lately? Without many more books to support them, they could have easily been shifted a bit and one of the other two righted them upon seeing them.) He waits for some kind of comment to come though in letting it be. After all, it had been Dante who seemed puzzled by the idea that Vergil wouldn't keep all that many books of his own, and that Vergil was overall generally opposed to the idea. Surely there was some sort of smug I told you so looming on the horizon. There didn't seem to a possibility for Dante to have such restraint. Not when Vergil so clearly liked the gift.]
[But the days stretch on without a single comment, and Vergil never exactly finds a way to work it into a conversation.]
[He looks up from Paradise Lost when he hears the front door to the apartment open. He's curled up on the couchβthe pull-out tucked away when not in usedβwith a mug of tea in one hand resting on the arm, his knees drawn up and propping the book up. Vergil has to admit the couch has been a decent investment thus far compared to reading at the table.]
You're home early. [His feet find the floor once more as he closes the book. It is starting to get a bit later in the day and Vergil should probably start seeing to dinner since it's his turn to cook. Pausing a moment as Dante closes the door behind him, he asks,] Nero isn't with you?
( Strolling his way on in, he's whistling away to himself with a freshly purchased bottle of something alcoholic in hand when he catches sight of his brother there on the couch looking like the bookworm he remembers him being in their childhood. Closing the door behind him, he stops when the question of Nero is posed and turns around. Opens the door back up. Pokes his head outside. Then shuts it again, looking over to Vergil there. )
Nope. Doesn't look like it.
( Cheesy little grin on his lips to show he's giving Vergil a bit of shit for that question, he goes back to his whistling as he makes his way over to where he has his very small stash of things he's gotten for himself here in Epiphany thus far. It's mostly a few stacked food boxes β empty thankfully β as well as a couple nearly finished bottles of something alcoholic. Then there's his outfit he'd worn when taking down a punk by the name of Argosax slung over whatever there; Ebony and Ivory always with him in their holsters. But he goes over to add the new bottle with the others. Cool.
Turning on his heel, he oh-so-dramatically drops himself down onto the couch there with Vergil, lounging his way across it and leaning there on his arm as he tilts his head, looking up to Vergil in doing so. )
Doing some light reading there?
( He's being funny because he damn well knows that particular book is not, by any means, light reading. )
[Vergil says nothing to Dante's antics of feigning looking out the door for Nero, but his facial expression likely speaks volumes as he fixes his brother with a flat, unimpressed look. Very funny he says without words as the look follows Dante making his way over to the couch and setting his bottle down with the rest of his belongings.]
[If one could call them as much. To Vergil, it was beginning to look like the younger son of Sparda was beginning a small trashpile in the apartment. It was nothing unsanitary and it was contained, which meant that Vergil held his tongue on the matter for now in an effort to maintain peace between his brother and him, but it was notable that its contents were largely nothing particularly permanent in nature. Vergil's gaze moves from the pile to Dante when he asks his question, rolling his eyes. Ah, so here it comes. The I told you so. It's only a matter of time.]
I thought I would take advantage of the quiet while you and Nero content yourselves with your work, [he says with a slight nod in the direction of the balcony to refer to the mess outside. Unlike his brother and nephew, Vergil has not lifted a finger to assist with the clean-up and rebuilding. His attention and focus has been more centralized to the apartment. His gaze goes back to Dante's pile, and he perhaps delays Dante's I told you so for a brief moment longer.] There's an entire kitchen in this apartment you know. That's typically where people who reside somewhere tend to store food and beverages, or so I'm told.
[Vergil pulls his feet back up onto the couch, drawing his knees up again as he looks at Dante. But not without a light shove to Dante's foot for encroaching on his temporarily claimed part of the couch. He does not, however, reopen the book and leaves it closed in his lap.]
( The shove to his foot only gets him to flop on the couch even more dramatically, chin in palm, elbow on the couch as he smiles up to his brother what with his leaning across and all. He wears that smile in silence as he stares to Vergil... then plucks the book from his brother's lap with a playful little yoink!
Pulling back to sit upright, he cracks it open. )
What're you reading anyways?
( Flipping through the pages, he stops on a random one and scans the page with a curious hum on his lips as he does. He's familiar with it β has a copy of this exact same edition stored back at the shop along with all the others by this author. Not for his own personal reading, but, much like the photograph of Eva on his desk, to have as a reminder of days long gone. Of someone he loves long gone.
Holding the book back from himself, he squints at it before he starts reading aloud. )
Let's see... once upon a time, there was a great devil hunter named Dante. ( He grins over to Vergil then continues. ) The most handsome in all the land and strongest of devil hunters. Wow, this guy sounds pretty cool.
[There's an attempt to snatch the book back before Dante can make off with it in the short distance between them. But having to make the attempt with one hand and trying to spill his tea alongside Dante's element of surprise leaves Vergil at a disadvantage and Paradise Lost now in Dante's hands. Were they younger, Vergil would have likely already been on top of Dante trying to get a hand on the book again and wrench it free from his little brother's grubby hands. Meanwhile, Dante would be squirming every which way and expertly avoiding Vergil's every attempt as he made up what was in the book or, worse yet, attempted to choppily read from it, interrupted from reading more cleanly by needing to jerk one way or another to avoid Vergil. And then at some point, red in the face either from anger or embarrassment or perhaps a combination thereof, Vergil would hit his limit and simply strike his brother to shut him up.]
[It does not quite play out like that now. Vergil frowns, his gaze like that of a hawk on Dante's handling of the book, but he does not lunge for the it any further and settles back into his part of the couch. Without his book in his lap, Vergil's mug of tea takes its place held within both his hands. He frowns further at that stupid lopsided grin sent his way, rolling his eyes in perhaps a bit of an exaggerated manner at Dante's absurd claims.]
You clearly haven't read far enough yet if you think that. I believe there's something about him also being the most irritating little brother to have ever walked the earth, and absurdly thinks he can convince anyone he knows how to read.
[For all that Vergil appears to be insulting Dante at present, there's no actual bite or venom to his words. Annoyed though he may be that Dante's snatched his book away instead of just asking for it, Vergil's mood is not made immediately foul by the move. He can roll with Dante's antics a little every now and again even if he'd never care to admit it.]
( There's a low rumbling of a chuckle deep in the back of his throat at that, flipping idly through more of the pages more because he can than actually meaning to find a particular page of interest. Snapping the book closed rather loudly between his hands, he waves it around then as he smiles over to his brother. )
Maybe it's because unlike some people I actually read interesting things and not high art in text form.
( Like his gun magazines and... other particular reading material that has pictures of mostly women in it, but hey. Those articles, man. Those articles. But hey, Vergil's reading it. Just like he knew he would and he's glad to see his brother take the time to enjoy the things he used to again. That alone makes this worth the Lore purchase.
Book in hand, he gently bops it off the top of his brother's head before he sets it down and swings himself over the back of the couch, red coat fluttering after him as he does, making his way over to the kitchen area with another whistle on his lips. )
[Vergil reflexively blinks when the book comes down on the top of his head. It does not actually hurt in the slightest, but he still make a point to lightly rub at his crown.]
I just went to the hospitality station a few days ago for more food, [he says, picking the book up from where Dante left it. He holds it a little closer to himself, more protectively to avoid any other potential yoinking away from him even if it's unlikely Dante will bother with it.] Unless Nero has already helped himself and ate them all, there should be more of those potato crisps you two seem to like in the snack cabinet. There are also more strawberries in the fridge, and more of those frozen...quesadillas you can microwave.
[His hesitation in calling them quesadillas isn't uncertainty about their name, but he doesn't think ready-to-eat, microwaveable food like that should ever be called what they're purportedly meant to be. He's no expert, but he is still certain he could do better. Perhaps he ought to look into it, he thinks, drumming his fingers against the back cover of his book. He could make them to a similar, smaller size, and freeze them, and Nero and Dante could microwave them anytime they wanted... They would hopefully taste better, but at the very least, they would not have that strange...cardboard texture that bothers Vergil but doesn't seem to bother either of his relatives.]
[He shakes himself from his thoughts to provide the rest of the answer to Dante's question.]
If you're looking for something more substantial, I can start dinner, or you can help yourself to leftovers or a sandwich. Or if a sandwich is too much work, cereal is an option.
( He's listening to Vergil ramble on about the various options he has while he stands there in front of the fridge... and starts to dance to a tune playing inside his head, head bobbing along as he does. Fridge door swinging open, he still vibes to whatever tune he's got going in his head, fingers drumming along the top of the door as he scans the contents of the fridge and that's when he finds them. )
Jackpot.
( Laugh soft on his lips, he pulls out the strawberries and pops one right away into his mouth as he takes the whole basket/bowl with him back for the couch, head bobbing still.
Strawberry between his teeth, he smiles around it to his brother and drops himself right back down on the couch there beside him, setting the strawberries there in his lap as he starts going at them one at a time, savoring each and every one.
A turn of his head to his brother, he holds a strawberry out for him. )
[With the way Dante brings the whole bowl of strawberries rather than just a handful over to the couch, Vergil thinks perhaps he should have taken more seeing as how those might not last particularly long. While Dante begins indulging in his snack, Vergil sinks a little more back into the couch the way he was before Dante returned home and opens his book back up to where he left off. At the offer, Vergil lifts his gaze from the page to the strawberry and shakes his head no.]
I got them for you to enjoy. [He looks back down at his book before having a sip of his tea.] I know a lot of time has passed and it's possible your tastes have changed, but I assumed they were still your favorite.
( A shrug, he pops the offered strawberry into his mouth, not about to waste the delicious little thing, especially when Vergil is right about them still being his favorite in the family of berries and fruits in general.
Swinging his leg closest to Vergil up, he drapes it over his brother's legs the best he can just because and keeps indulging in his strawberries there. It's not so strange of him to do, having done so many times when they were younger and Vergil was there reading one of his books. Always as a means to remind the other that he was right there lest he decided to forget for even just a minute or two. It comes with their being twins β so close to one another and really only having each other since long before birth. The fact he seems to fall back into it so easily without even questioning it... maybe he will later. When he's alone. Who's to say how his mood will shift when left by himself and his thoughts.
Never really being a fan of silence, he glances over to his brother there, another strawberry shoved in his mouth as he does. )
So. ( A beat, another strawberry popped in his mouth. ) Spending some nights away, huh? Bow chicka wow wow.
[When the leg comes up, Vergil scoots his feet a little further long the couch to lower his knees. It's less about making it more comfortable for Danteβif he's stupid enough to position himself uncomfortably, that was on him as far as Vergil was concernedβand more to keep Dante's leg from sliding down with gravity only to be replaced again and again and again and again. It also means Dante's leg now acts as a place for Vergil to comfortably prop his book. Just as when they were kids, he hardly pauses in his reading to make these accommodations for Dante, and simply settles into what feels like a comfortable silence with his brother.]
[A comfortable silence that Dante shatters without hesitation. Vergil heaves a sigh as he looks up from his book, regarding his brother with a look that's both visibly annoyed and suspicious about where this conversation could potentially lead itself.]
On occasion, I like to sleep without disruptions. Mizu lives alone and you snore at a deafening volume most nights.
[Vergil keeps it matter-of-fact and looks back to his book.]
( Vergil gives him that look, as expected, and he just smiles to him like the little shit he can be when he's in the mood to be. But hey! Look at them. Chilling here on the couch together like old times and having a nice little chat together. How far they've come. How just like old times it is, minus the topic of conversation, but. They're here. They're alive. And no one's thrown hands yet.
To be determined how long that may or may not last of course. )
Yeah. I'll bet there's all sorts of other deafening volumes there.
( Chuckling around a strawberry as he says that, grin still plastered all over his face, nudging his brother with an elbow. )
[There isn't much room for him to go with the end of the couch on one side and Dante at the other, but Vergil leans away as best he can from Dante when he's elbowed, leaning over the arm of the couch a little more.]
It is none of your business either way. [Vergil turns the page and he does not look at that stupid look on his brother's face. (He doesn't need to when he can feel how wide that grin likely is on Dante's face.) Especially not when the tips of Vergil's ears are starting to turn pink.] I tell you when I am going to be away as a courtesy. So, you know where I am for the night in case anything were to happen.
[Not for you to offer your commentary on his sex life, Dante!]
( Vergil pulls away and he lets him, chuckling around a strawberry as he lazes there on the couch still. )
Hey, I think it's great you're still staying active in your old age. Making sure everything still works like it should.
( Waggling his eyebrows at that, he pops another couple of strawberries in his mouth and... welp. That's that. No more strawberries. Didn't take long at all for him to just devour them. As expected, really. Bowl in hand, he gets himself up off the couch and rounds it to head back for the kitchen area, not before giving a couple pats to Vergil's shoulder though. )
Also, how's anyone supposed to get ahold of you when you don't even use the relic thing we've got here?
[It's only for a brief moment, but Vergil contemplates whether or not Paradise Lost would be left with a dent in its cover if he were to use it against his brother. Most likely it would be with that thick skull of Dante's coming into contact with it. So, Vergil says nothing to Dante's comments even if the ambient temperature of the room feels a bit warmer and he reads the same line two or three times before being able to move on. When Dante gets up, Vergil lifts his book enough to let Dante have his leg back and rests it back in his own lap. The hand patting his shoulder still ends up swatted at, however, as Dante strides into the kitchen to take care of the dish.]
[Most irritating little brother to ever walk the earth, indeed.]
The farthest I ever tend to go from anywhere in Epiphany by choice is Mizu's cabin in Wintermute. [And by Vergil's estimation, it shouldn't take the Relic to connect with Vergil in Epiphany. Vergil only goes to a few limited spots after all.] And he uses his Relic, so you could just as easily call him if you needed me.
( It's asked with a scoff and shake of his head as he looks around for where to put the bowl and opts for... the sink. Yeah. That's where that's going. )
What if you guys are in the middle of going at it and I interrupt or something? Do you think I want to be subjected to such indecency from my big brother?
[The sound that emits from Vergil in his exasperation sounds somewhere between a sputter and a choking cough, but ultimately results in no recognizable speech sounds. Looking over to Dante in the kitchen, Vergil's free hand is thrown up a little as he furiously shakes his head. Vergil's hand curls into a fist and he drops it down on the pages in his lap as he squeezes his eyes shut, not even sure where to begin with any of this.]
Dante... [He audibly huffs as he opens his eyes again, his gaze more towards the ceiling than at his brother at present.] Going along with your false assumption that I am only ever at Mizu's for the purposes of sex, what difference would it make calling his Relic versus mine in an emergency in that circumstance?
[That is not even addressing the fact that neither Mizu nor Vergil would ever just answer while still in the middle of something like that in the first place. Even without the need to protect Mizu's secret, they would still separate and there would be nothing to witness. That's just a matter of common decency.]
[Nor is it addressing the fact Vergil's Relic is missing, so the point is ultimately moot to begin with.]
( Waving a hand at his brother, boots scuff against the flooring as he lazily saunters his way over to his little stash of things. )
Look, you don't even need to worry. Something happens? I'll take care of it.
( Just like always.
Stopping there at his little pile, he reaches for the new bottle he'd brought in with him, grabbing it by the neck with the tips of his fingers before he turns back to look to his brother. )
[Vergil watches Dante return from the kitchen to his pile, reaching for the latest bottle. He doesn't say anything, but his silence still is accompanied by a heavy weight of wanting to say something all the same. But it's not anger that has Vergil so quiet, but rather an uncertainty. An anxiety that sits in the pit of his stomach as he weighs his options and mulls it over. He sets his tea down on the floor nearby to the couch and slowly closes the book in his lap again, hands resting on the cover just so that his fingers curl over the top of it, but he lingers in his indecision to say something or not.]
[On an extremely basic level, what Dante is suggesting does not sit well with Vergil. A life worth living, to him, is one that he should always wish to protect and fight for. To ask Vergil to live his life, but allow someone elseβeven his own brotherβto be the one to ensure there is no threat to it is simply antithetical to Vergil even without that endless drive for power. No matter how much Vergil has craved to be loved and to be protected, he could never idly stand by if those he has chosen to love, chosen to care for are in any sort of danger. Regardless of the temporary nature of this life he has managed to start to eke out for himself here in Folkmore... It is Vergil's, and that makes it his to protect with everything he has.]
[But far deeper and greater than that basic principle is the way Dante says it. Just live your life here. It sits poorly with Vergil. It's as though despite being perfectly within reach, Dante is hundreds of miles away. Just live your life here. As though Dante is not a part of it let alone an important part of it. Glaring at a spot on the floor, Vergil purses his lips. This is why he's left in indecision.]
[Short of more literally drilling it into his skull, while she was alive, Eva never let Vergil forget that his responsibility as the eldest was to look after his little brother. At the time, he resented it, of course. What child wouldn't? Especially when taking into consideration they were twins, and no matter whatever reassurances could be offered, they were still expected more than regular siblings to share in all things with each other. So, not only was Vergil being asked to share when he did not want to, make concessions on his quiet to appease his little brother, he was also asked to take responsibility for Dante. But then Eva died. Eva died and the Yamato protected him, and those events shaped so much of his life by themselves, but Eva was not the only person that Vergil mourned, the only person he lost and led him to swear off ever allowing someone that sort of closeness to him ever again.]
[He thought Dante had been taken from him, too. That he had been too weak. That his selfish, childish aggravation with Dante that day had...]
[Vergil knows he's failed Dante as a brother more than he hasn't, and that even when excluding times when he was not entirely himself, he'd plainly resented it. But that's not what Vergil wants. Deep in his heart, he's never wanted to be alone or without his brother even with all their differences, and their inability to truly resolve any of them between one another. For as much as Dante drives him insane... He will always been Vergil's little brother. And he wants things to be different, to be better between them.]
I have been looking at some of the houses in the area. This is working for now, [he says with a vague gesture of his hand to what used to be just his apartment,] but you could use more clothes than the ones you own already and there isn't enough room in here for storage like that. I also wouldn't mind having my own room again on the off-chance Mizu feels brave enough to weather your nonsense for a night or two. And I don't know what Nero's plans are, but I was thinking regardless of whether he chooses to stay or go, having a bed available to him rather than sleeping on this thing would be preferred.
[Vergil is looking anywhere but at Dante as he says any of this. Even if he's learned from his mistake in the woods that day of pressing too much of an interest or otherwise protest to Dante's assertions, there's still a degree to which he doesn't know how Dante will take this. If he will agree to it or not. Vergil supposes it doesn't really...matter. It's not as though they won't still see each other. It will just take more effort than it does now to make that happen, that's all. But it bruised before, and Vergil doesn't want something like this, something that he's trying to say without perhaps saying it directly, to potentially spark an argument.]
There aren't many, but there are a few three bedrooms that seem as though they should suffice. You could... [He clears his throat and tries again, more firmly.] You could come with me tomorrow to see which ones you prefer.
( He honestly hadn't been sure what to expect when he'd gone off and said what he had. He meant it. Means it. If anything were to happen to either Vergil or Nero, he would be there to take care of it β take care of them in whatever ways he needed to. In the years since the trauma of their childhood, he's always shouldered the responsibility of needing to take care of things. At first, he hated it. Hated the fact that it was him having to clean up after and take care of his old man's messes he'd left behind for him.
But he did it. Over and over and over again until it was pretty much all he knew. It hurt sometimes β ripped his heart out and left him crying on the floor of his office after losing Vergil again. He's mourned his brother three times in his life and each time, it's damn nearly killed him. He still doesn't know how he survived each time. Because he never got over it, no. He survived. Just as he did that day back at their old home in Redgrave. Getting over it would imply he still doesn't hurt from it β still doesn't have wounds that bleed when he thinks too much about it. But he does. All over his heart and they still hurt like a bitch when they're torn open by unexpected force.
He takes a sort of pride in what does, sure. Keeping the human realm safe... it's given him a sort of purpose in life. Even if it's tiring some days and he's left wondering if it'll ever really end. So he doesn't even really think twice about offering to handle whatever might happen here or in their lives. It's... what he does. What he's done for years even when he thinks he can barely get through it. So to see the reaction from his brother there when he says what he does, it has him pause in the twisting of the cap off his bottle and he stares over to him when he goes on about looking for some place else. Somewhere bigger.
For a moment, he's quiet. Eyes roaming their gaze around the place with hands stilled on the bottle. He's not about to disagree that a bigger place would be nicer for them, but. After learning about Mizu and Vergil's wandering off some nightsβ not to mention Nero being here and the both of them knowing who they are to one another... he figured this was all temporary until he found some place for himself. So for that to not be the case as he'd assumed... he stands there. Silent. A little unsure how to respond to that, especially the part about looking at places together.
Teeth gently press into his bottom lip, gaze dropping down to the bottle he holds. Serious conversations between them have usually led to an argument at some point in them, often due to their being at odds with one another β differing points of views. This, however, isn't necessarily the case and it's why he's not sure what to say. Vergil is trying. He can see that. It's what he's always wanted his brother to do and yet, the moment he does, he's left unsure with how to react to it. At least for a moment.
In the silence that falls over them, there's a sort of tempered contentment there as he'd had when he was a child and Vergil finally gave in to wanting to play with him. The smile that touches his lips faint and hidden before he finds it within him to finally say something. )
So you wanna play house with me, huh? You do the cooking, I do the dishes. We take turns taking the trash out. Socks on the doorknobs as a courtesy to each other.
( Good way to break any tension there with throwing in a nonchalance about it all. Shrug of his shoulders, he holds his arms out at his sides some. )
Alright. But on one condition. ( To which he smiles. ) I want a jukebox.
[Vergil finally looks up at Dante when he speaks, wrinkling his nose a little at how Dante phrases it and how cavalier as always he is about it. It's only because he knows that's his brother's way that Vergil doesn't provide some sort of critical remark for it.]
[Well, not exactly.]
[The moment Dante agrees to it, something in Vergil lights up and warms immediately. Dante's nonchalance and jokes do nothing to dampen it or the smile that not only curves Vergil's lips, but reaches his eyes. He didn't hold an expectation either way what Dante's answer would be, but the answer he receives leaves him pleased. No... No, not pleased. Happy.]
[It's a strange, funny feeling.]
Fine. But it's off after midnight. One, at the absolute latest. [He looks back down at the book in his lap briefly before looking at Dante again.] And you are doing the dishes if you're expecting me to cook. It's the least you can do considering the mess I'm sure you and that woman [Trish; don't think Vergil hasn't noticed the fridge becoming emptier a little faster than anticipated] are going to make in the rest of the house.
( It takes him a second to realize he's talking about Trish and when he does, he blows out a sigh as he finally goes about twisting that cap off the bottle he's holding. )
Her name is Trish not that woman. Jesus, Verge.
( Shake of his head, he takes a swig and licks over his lips as he wanders around the room a little. )
And before you get any ideas, I'm not banging her. ( He points to his brother while holding the bottle, feeling the need to just Get That Out There just in case. ) She's my friend and we've been through shit together.
[Vergil visibly shudders when Dante denies having any relations with Trish, expression scrunching like he just bit into something unpleasant. Setting aside the circumstances of Trish's path crossing with either son of Sparda, she was made to look like their mother. The furthest thing from Vergil's mind was the idea that anything was happening between Dante and Trish, and now he really wishes Dante hadn't said anything because that was not a thought he needed. Ever.]
I figured as much...? [The question in his tone is really only an unspoken question as to why Dante thinks that's what Vergil would conclude. He shakes his head as he extends his legs on the couch since Dante has taken to mildly wandering rather than sitting back down. He is still frowning in disgust though. Gross.] She isn't over here as often as she is for Nero's sake and certainly not for mine, in any case. I assumed that after...
[Vergil trails off, not really sure how to put it in a succinct way that doesn't feel as though they're about to tread into thoughts and memories neither one of them is liable to want to remember. He lets it be, returning to the point.]
I assumed the two of you must have remained close based on how often she is here. [He pauses a moment before adding,] I'm glad you have a friend here with you at least. Unfortunate that Lady could not also be here.
[He bothered to remember her name at least. Well. It's less a matter that he did or did not remember Trish's name, and just more what baggage comes with her existence for Vergil. Lady does not come with that, so she's a touch easier for Vergil to talk about even if he certainly couldn't claim to know her any better than he knows Trish.]
( Whatever!! He's just making sure it's out there.
Vergil stops himself before he goes on to say what he knows he was going to around that time and it has him slow in his steps β take another swig of his drink even. He just so happens to be near the bathroom when doing so and he stares into it for a long moment, silent, before he looks back over to the other son of Sparda there on the couch. )
Yeah, well. I'm a friendly sort of guy, what can I say?
( Lazy shrug of his shoulders, he wanders about a little more before he goes around behind the little divider Vergil bothered to setup there to give them all some privacy and... drops himself down to his brother's bed with an oof. Yeah. He's absolutely sprawling himself out on it with his drink. )
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[And he always knew the culprit back then, too.]
[For that night, he leaves them on his nightstand, staring at them in the dark, his gaze tracing the lettering on their spines until he can take it no longer. Vergil flips on the light on the nightstand and plucks the book at the top of the stack. When he wakes in the morning, his thumb lightly holds his place as the book rests on the pillow beside his face, the nightstand light still on.]
[Vergil lets it be entirely for a little while after the books' appearance, the books resting neatly on the overall barren bookshelf when not in use. (Vergil notices occasionally they're not quite as they were left behind, but... Who knows with all the commotion lately? Without many more books to support them, they could have easily been shifted a bit and one of the other two righted them upon seeing them.) He waits for some kind of comment to come though in letting it be. After all, it had been Dante who seemed puzzled by the idea that Vergil wouldn't keep all that many books of his own, and that Vergil was overall generally opposed to the idea. Surely there was some sort of smug I told you so looming on the horizon. There didn't seem to a possibility for Dante to have such restraint. Not when Vergil so clearly liked the gift.]
[But the days stretch on without a single comment, and Vergil never exactly finds a way to work it into a conversation.]
[He looks up from Paradise Lost when he hears the front door to the apartment open. He's curled up on the couchβthe pull-out tucked away when not in usedβwith a mug of tea in one hand resting on the arm, his knees drawn up and propping the book up. Vergil has to admit the couch has been a decent investment thus far compared to reading at the table.]
You're home early. [His feet find the floor once more as he closes the book. It is starting to get a bit later in the day and Vergil should probably start seeing to dinner since it's his turn to cook. Pausing a moment as Dante closes the door behind him, he asks,] Nero isn't with you?
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Nope. Doesn't look like it.
( Cheesy little grin on his lips to show he's giving Vergil a bit of shit for that question, he goes back to his whistling as he makes his way over to where he has his very small stash of things he's gotten for himself here in Epiphany thus far. It's mostly a few stacked food boxes β empty thankfully β as well as a couple nearly finished bottles of something alcoholic. Then there's his outfit he'd worn when taking down a punk by the name of Argosax slung over whatever there; Ebony and Ivory always with him in their holsters. But he goes over to add the new bottle with the others. Cool.
Turning on his heel, he oh-so-dramatically drops himself down onto the couch there with Vergil, lounging his way across it and leaning there on his arm as he tilts his head, looking up to Vergil in doing so. )
Doing some light reading there?
( He's being funny because he damn well knows that particular book is not, by any means, light reading. )
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[If one could call them as much. To Vergil, it was beginning to look like the younger son of Sparda was beginning a small trashpile in the apartment. It was nothing unsanitary and it was contained, which meant that Vergil held his tongue on the matter for now in an effort to maintain peace between his brother and him, but it was notable that its contents were largely nothing particularly permanent in nature. Vergil's gaze moves from the pile to Dante when he asks his question, rolling his eyes. Ah, so here it comes. The I told you so. It's only a matter of time.]
I thought I would take advantage of the quiet while you and Nero content yourselves with your work, [he says with a slight nod in the direction of the balcony to refer to the mess outside. Unlike his brother and nephew, Vergil has not lifted a finger to assist with the clean-up and rebuilding. His attention and focus has been more centralized to the apartment. His gaze goes back to Dante's pile, and he perhaps delays Dante's I told you so for a brief moment longer.] There's an entire kitchen in this apartment you know. That's typically where people who reside somewhere tend to store food and beverages, or so I'm told.
[Vergil pulls his feet back up onto the couch, drawing his knees up again as he looks at Dante. But not without a light shove to Dante's foot for encroaching on his temporarily claimed part of the couch. He does not, however, reopen the book and leaves it closed in his lap.]
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Pulling back to sit upright, he cracks it open. )
What're you reading anyways?
( Flipping through the pages, he stops on a random one and scans the page with a curious hum on his lips as he does. He's familiar with it β has a copy of this exact same edition stored back at the shop along with all the others by this author. Not for his own personal reading, but, much like the photograph of Eva on his desk, to have as a reminder of days long gone. Of someone he loves long gone.
Holding the book back from himself, he squints at it before he starts reading aloud. )
Let's see... once upon a time, there was a great devil hunter named Dante. ( He grins over to Vergil then continues. ) The most handsome in all the land and strongest of devil hunters. Wow, this guy sounds pretty cool.
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[It does not quite play out like that now. Vergil frowns, his gaze like that of a hawk on Dante's handling of the book, but he does not lunge for the it any further and settles back into his part of the couch. Without his book in his lap, Vergil's mug of tea takes its place held within both his hands. He frowns further at that stupid lopsided grin sent his way, rolling his eyes in perhaps a bit of an exaggerated manner at Dante's absurd claims.]
You clearly haven't read far enough yet if you think that. I believe there's something about him also being the most irritating little brother to have ever walked the earth, and absurdly thinks he can convince anyone he knows how to read.
[For all that Vergil appears to be insulting Dante at present, there's no actual bite or venom to his words. Annoyed though he may be that Dante's snatched his book away instead of just asking for it, Vergil's mood is not made immediately foul by the move. He can roll with Dante's antics a little every now and again even if he'd never care to admit it.]
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Maybe it's because unlike some people I actually read interesting things and not high art in text form.
( Like his gun magazines and... other particular reading material that has pictures of mostly women in it, but hey. Those articles, man. Those articles. But hey, Vergil's reading it. Just like he knew he would and he's glad to see his brother take the time to enjoy the things he used to again. That alone makes this worth the Lore purchase.
Book in hand, he gently bops it off the top of his brother's head before he sets it down and swings himself over the back of the couch, red coat fluttering after him as he does, making his way over to the kitchen area with another whistle on his lips. )
I'm hungry. Anything good around here to eat?
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I just went to the hospitality station a few days ago for more food, [he says, picking the book up from where Dante left it. He holds it a little closer to himself, more protectively to avoid any other potential yoinking away from him even if it's unlikely Dante will bother with it.] Unless Nero has already helped himself and ate them all, there should be more of those potato crisps you two seem to like in the snack cabinet. There are also more strawberries in the fridge, and more of those frozen...quesadillas you can microwave.
[His hesitation in calling them quesadillas isn't uncertainty about their name, but he doesn't think ready-to-eat, microwaveable food like that should ever be called what they're purportedly meant to be. He's no expert, but he is still certain he could do better. Perhaps he ought to look into it, he thinks, drumming his fingers against the back cover of his book. He could make them to a similar, smaller size, and freeze them, and Nero and Dante could microwave them anytime they wanted... They would hopefully taste better, but at the very least, they would not have that strange...cardboard texture that bothers Vergil but doesn't seem to bother either of his relatives.]
[He shakes himself from his thoughts to provide the rest of the answer to Dante's question.]
If you're looking for something more substantial, I can start dinner, or you can help yourself to leftovers or a sandwich. Or if a sandwich is too much work, cereal is an option.
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Jackpot.
( Laugh soft on his lips, he pulls out the strawberries and pops one right away into his mouth as he takes the whole basket/bowl with him back for the couch, head bobbing still.
Strawberry between his teeth, he smiles around it to his brother and drops himself right back down on the couch there beside him, setting the strawberries there in his lap as he starts going at them one at a time, savoring each and every one.
A turn of his head to his brother, he holds a strawberry out for him. )
Want one? I'll share.
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I got them for you to enjoy. [He looks back down at his book before having a sip of his tea.] I know a lot of time has passed and it's possible your tastes have changed, but I assumed they were still your favorite.
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Swinging his leg closest to Vergil up, he drapes it over his brother's legs the best he can just because and keeps indulging in his strawberries there. It's not so strange of him to do, having done so many times when they were younger and Vergil was there reading one of his books. Always as a means to remind the other that he was right there lest he decided to forget for even just a minute or two. It comes with their being twins β so close to one another and really only having each other since long before birth. The fact he seems to fall back into it so easily without even questioning it... maybe he will later. When he's alone. Who's to say how his mood will shift when left by himself and his thoughts.
Never really being a fan of silence, he glances over to his brother there, another strawberry shoved in his mouth as he does. )
So. ( A beat, another strawberry popped in his mouth. ) Spending some nights away, huh? Bow chicka wow wow.
( And here comes the grin. )
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[A comfortable silence that Dante shatters without hesitation. Vergil heaves a sigh as he looks up from his book, regarding his brother with a look that's both visibly annoyed and suspicious about where this conversation could potentially lead itself.]
On occasion, I like to sleep without disruptions. Mizu lives alone and you snore at a deafening volume most nights.
[Vergil keeps it matter-of-fact and looks back to his book.]
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To be determined how long that may or may not last of course. )
Yeah. I'll bet there's all sorts of other deafening volumes there.
( Chuckling around a strawberry as he says that, grin still plastered all over his face, nudging his brother with an elbow. )
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It is none of your business either way. [Vergil turns the page and he does not look at that stupid look on his brother's face. (He doesn't need to when he can feel how wide that grin likely is on Dante's face.) Especially not when the tips of Vergil's ears are starting to turn pink.] I tell you when I am going to be away as a courtesy. So, you know where I am for the night in case anything were to happen.
[Not for you to offer your commentary on his sex life, Dante!]
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Hey, I think it's great you're still staying active in your old age. Making sure everything still works like it should.
( Waggling his eyebrows at that, he pops another couple of strawberries in his mouth and... welp. That's that. No more strawberries. Didn't take long at all for him to just devour them. As expected, really. Bowl in hand, he gets himself up off the couch and rounds it to head back for the kitchen area, not before giving a couple pats to Vergil's shoulder though. )
Also, how's anyone supposed to get ahold of you when you don't even use the relic thing we've got here?
( Riddle him that, Vergil. )
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[Most irritating little brother to ever walk the earth, indeed.]
The farthest I ever tend to go from anywhere in Epiphany by choice is Mizu's cabin in Wintermute. [And by Vergil's estimation, it shouldn't take the Relic to connect with Vergil in Epiphany. Vergil only goes to a few limited spots after all.] And he uses his Relic, so you could just as easily call him if you needed me.
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( It's asked with a scoff and shake of his head as he looks around for where to put the bowl and opts for... the sink. Yeah. That's where that's going. )
What if you guys are in the middle of going at it and I interrupt or something? Do you think I want to be subjected to such indecency from my big brother?
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Dante... [He audibly huffs as he opens his eyes again, his gaze more towards the ceiling than at his brother at present.] Going along with your false assumption that I am only ever at Mizu's for the purposes of sex, what difference would it make calling his Relic versus mine in an emergency in that circumstance?
[That is not even addressing the fact that neither Mizu nor Vergil would ever just answer while still in the middle of something like that in the first place. Even without the need to protect Mizu's secret, they would still separate and there would be nothing to witness. That's just a matter of common decency.]
[Nor is it addressing the fact Vergil's Relic is missing, so the point is ultimately moot to begin with.]
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Look, you don't even need to worry. Something happens? I'll take care of it.
( Just like always.
Stopping there at his little pile, he reaches for the new bottle he'd brought in with him, grabbing it by the neck with the tips of his fingers before he turns back to look to his brother. )
I got you, bro. Just live your life here.
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[On an extremely basic level, what Dante is suggesting does not sit well with Vergil. A life worth living, to him, is one that he should always wish to protect and fight for. To ask Vergil to live his life, but allow someone elseβeven his own brotherβto be the one to ensure there is no threat to it is simply antithetical to Vergil even without that endless drive for power. No matter how much Vergil has craved to be loved and to be protected, he could never idly stand by if those he has chosen to love, chosen to care for are in any sort of danger. Regardless of the temporary nature of this life he has managed to start to eke out for himself here in Folkmore... It is Vergil's, and that makes it his to protect with everything he has.]
[But far deeper and greater than that basic principle is the way Dante says it. Just live your life here. It sits poorly with Vergil. It's as though despite being perfectly within reach, Dante is hundreds of miles away. Just live your life here. As though Dante is not a part of it let alone an important part of it. Glaring at a spot on the floor, Vergil purses his lips. This is why he's left in indecision.]
[Short of more literally drilling it into his skull, while she was alive, Eva never let Vergil forget that his responsibility as the eldest was to look after his little brother. At the time, he resented it, of course. What child wouldn't? Especially when taking into consideration they were twins, and no matter whatever reassurances could be offered, they were still expected more than regular siblings to share in all things with each other. So, not only was Vergil being asked to share when he did not want to, make concessions on his quiet to appease his little brother, he was also asked to take responsibility for Dante. But then Eva died. Eva died and the Yamato protected him, and those events shaped so much of his life by themselves, but Eva was not the only person that Vergil mourned, the only person he lost and led him to swear off ever allowing someone that sort of closeness to him ever again.]
[He thought Dante had been taken from him, too. That he had been too weak. That his selfish, childish aggravation with Dante that day had...]
[Vergil knows he's failed Dante as a brother more than he hasn't, and that even when excluding times when he was not entirely himself, he'd plainly resented it. But that's not what Vergil wants. Deep in his heart, he's never wanted to be alone or without his brother even with all their differences, and their inability to truly resolve any of them between one another. For as much as Dante drives him insane... He will always been Vergil's little brother. And he wants things to be different, to be better between them.]
I have been looking at some of the houses in the area. This is working for now, [he says with a vague gesture of his hand to what used to be just his apartment,] but you could use more clothes than the ones you own already and there isn't enough room in here for storage like that. I also wouldn't mind having my own room again on the off-chance Mizu feels brave enough to weather your nonsense for a night or two. And I don't know what Nero's plans are, but I was thinking regardless of whether he chooses to stay or go, having a bed available to him rather than sleeping on this thing would be preferred.
[Vergil is looking anywhere but at Dante as he says any of this. Even if he's learned from his mistake in the woods that day of pressing too much of an interest or otherwise protest to Dante's assertions, there's still a degree to which he doesn't know how Dante will take this. If he will agree to it or not. Vergil supposes it doesn't really...matter. It's not as though they won't still see each other. It will just take more effort than it does now to make that happen, that's all. But it bruised before, and Vergil doesn't want something like this, something that he's trying to say without perhaps saying it directly, to potentially spark an argument.]
There aren't many, but there are a few three bedrooms that seem as though they should suffice. You could... [He clears his throat and tries again, more firmly.] You could come with me tomorrow to see which ones you prefer.
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But he did it. Over and over and over again until it was pretty much all he knew. It hurt sometimes β ripped his heart out and left him crying on the floor of his office after losing Vergil again. He's mourned his brother three times in his life and each time, it's damn nearly killed him. He still doesn't know how he survived each time. Because he never got over it, no. He survived. Just as he did that day back at their old home in Redgrave. Getting over it would imply he still doesn't hurt from it β still doesn't have wounds that bleed when he thinks too much about it. But he does. All over his heart and they still hurt like a bitch when they're torn open by unexpected force.
He takes a sort of pride in what does, sure. Keeping the human realm safe... it's given him a sort of purpose in life. Even if it's tiring some days and he's left wondering if it'll ever really end. So he doesn't even really think twice about offering to handle whatever might happen here or in their lives. It's... what he does. What he's done for years even when he thinks he can barely get through it. So to see the reaction from his brother there when he says what he does, it has him pause in the twisting of the cap off his bottle and he stares over to him when he goes on about looking for some place else. Somewhere bigger.
For a moment, he's quiet. Eyes roaming their gaze around the place with hands stilled on the bottle. He's not about to disagree that a bigger place would be nicer for them, but. After learning about Mizu and Vergil's wandering off some nightsβ not to mention Nero being here and the both of them knowing who they are to one another... he figured this was all temporary until he found some place for himself. So for that to not be the case as he'd assumed... he stands there. Silent. A little unsure how to respond to that, especially the part about looking at places together.
Teeth gently press into his bottom lip, gaze dropping down to the bottle he holds. Serious conversations between them have usually led to an argument at some point in them, often due to their being at odds with one another β differing points of views. This, however, isn't necessarily the case and it's why he's not sure what to say. Vergil is trying. He can see that. It's what he's always wanted his brother to do and yet, the moment he does, he's left unsure with how to react to it. At least for a moment.
In the silence that falls over them, there's a sort of tempered contentment there as he'd had when he was a child and Vergil finally gave in to wanting to play with him. The smile that touches his lips faint and hidden before he finds it within him to finally say something. )
So you wanna play house with me, huh? You do the cooking, I do the dishes. We take turns taking the trash out. Socks on the doorknobs as a courtesy to each other.
( Good way to break any tension there with throwing in a nonchalance about it all. Shrug of his shoulders, he holds his arms out at his sides some. )
Alright. But on one condition. ( To which he smiles. ) I want a jukebox.
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[Well, not exactly.]
[The moment Dante agrees to it, something in Vergil lights up and warms immediately. Dante's nonchalance and jokes do nothing to dampen it or the smile that not only curves Vergil's lips, but reaches his eyes. He didn't hold an expectation either way what Dante's answer would be, but the answer he receives leaves him pleased. No... No, not pleased. Happy.]
[It's a strange, funny feeling.]
Fine. But it's off after midnight. One, at the absolute latest. [He looks back down at the book in his lap briefly before looking at Dante again.] And you are doing the dishes if you're expecting me to cook. It's the least you can do considering the mess I'm sure you and that woman [Trish; don't think Vergil hasn't noticed the fridge becoming emptier a little faster than anticipated] are going to make in the rest of the house.
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Her name is Trish not that woman. Jesus, Verge.
( Shake of his head, he takes a swig and licks over his lips as he wanders around the room a little. )
And before you get any ideas, I'm not banging her. ( He points to his brother while holding the bottle, feeling the need to just Get That Out There just in case. ) She's my friend and we've been through shit together.
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I figured as much...? [The question in his tone is really only an unspoken question as to why Dante thinks that's what Vergil would conclude. He shakes his head as he extends his legs on the couch since Dante has taken to mildly wandering rather than sitting back down. He is still frowning in disgust though. Gross.] She isn't over here as often as she is for Nero's sake and certainly not for mine, in any case. I assumed that after...
[Vergil trails off, not really sure how to put it in a succinct way that doesn't feel as though they're about to tread into thoughts and memories neither one of them is liable to want to remember. He lets it be, returning to the point.]
I assumed the two of you must have remained close based on how often she is here. [He pauses a moment before adding,] I'm glad you have a friend here with you at least. Unfortunate that Lady could not also be here.
[He bothered to remember her name at least. Well. It's less a matter that he did or did not remember Trish's name, and just more what baggage comes with her existence for Vergil. Lady does not come with that, so she's a touch easier for Vergil to talk about even if he certainly couldn't claim to know her any better than he knows Trish.]
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Vergil stops himself before he goes on to say what he knows he was going to around that time and it has him slow in his steps β take another swig of his drink even. He just so happens to be near the bathroom when doing so and he stares into it for a long moment, silent, before he looks back over to the other son of Sparda there on the couch. )
Yeah, well. I'm a friendly sort of guy, what can I say?
( Lazy shrug of his shoulders, he wanders about a little more before he goes around behind the little divider Vergil bothered to setup there to give them all some privacy and... drops himself down to his brother's bed with an oof. Yeah. He's absolutely sprawling himself out on it with his drink. )
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cw: talk of death
cw: talk of death, child abandonment, attempted child murder
cw: continued mentions of death, depression, childhood trauma
cw: mentions of death & complicated bereavement
cw: still mentions of depression and survivor's guilt
cw: child death mention, grief
cw: mentions of grief
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cw: allusion to alcoholism
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cw: allusion to alcoholism
cw: gentle mentions of alcoholism
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cw: references to alcoholism and enslavement
cw: gentle demonic transformation
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