[It's not the spike from earlier. As such, Vergil does not anticipate that the rise in Dante's demonic energy will lead into some form of violence or otherwise lashing out. So, his own alertness at its presence is more out of curiosity than it is anything else. It is not like Dante to call upon his demonic energy like this. Not in a moment that is arguably more idle than anything else, and its presence registers as something more casual than driven by necessity. Vergil, however, in waiting to see what it is Dante intends to do, only looks to Dante when it is scales he feels in his hand instead of the softer human skin that was there only a moment ago whereupon he sees his brother in his partial transformation.]
[It is odd to see his brother mostly human but traces of the devil still prominent regardless of how few they may be compared to his human features. For Dante, his demonic heritage is a tool. It is one he resents almost as much as he resents their father, but it is a tool for him nonetheless. There is, however, no connection between Dante and that part of himself beyond that. It remains an insurmountable divide that, in a strange way, reflects the divide between brothers as well. Dante's resentments just seem to run too deep, and it's too difficult for Vergil to see it from his brother's perspective. The latter, however, seems far easier to mend and close to Vergil than the former. And the divide between brothers is not exactly anything Vergil would claim to be an easy task in the first place.]
[Still, Dante is here, and he reaches for his brother in more ways than just one. It counts for something.]
[The blue of Vergil's eyes brightens to a cyan rather than their softer grey-blue, his sclera darkening with the rise of his own demonic energy. It's neither the sharp spike of heated emotion from Dante a moment ago, nor is it the gradual rise. Instead, it's almost akin to the devil within Vergil stepping forward, as though it has always been there and only with attention being drawn to it does it step forward now. Vergil matches his brother in partial transformation, but to some extent it is more complete. His is not as much of a patchwork of scales and claws. Instead, from the elbow down, Vergil's arm and hand have transformed completely and glow with the same cyan of his eyes while grey scales form along his hairline and cheeks as well as along the sides and back of his neck.]
Together, [he says with a nod.]
[They have been in opposition to one another for far longer than they have not. And there is still some small instinct there for it even now. It would seem impossible not for there to be given how often it is they've clashed with one another, using their demonic powers and forms to wound and fight to bitter ends against one another. But the instinct is small and it is quiet, and there is no power struggle that lies between them now that would amplify it. In this moment, as devils and as men, they are merely brothers. Twins who balk at the thought of being alike and yet still reflect both the worst and best parts of one another, and need one another for that reason.]
[From now on, when one reaches for the other, he will be there. As hard as it may be to reach for or take hold after all their various hurts and wrongs, they will find a way to do it.]
( When Vergil's own devil steps forward, if even partly, he feels a rise in his back β defensive without even meaning to be. Given the years of being at odds with one another, it's more a kneejerk reaction than anything else, but. It's fleeting the moment he sees there is no threat to be concerned with, no fight to suddenly erupt between them. Just two partly changed devils who share human blood within them.
Bright red eyes watch the other devil's face β quiet in the way his gaze sweeps over his brother's arm and the power he can feel gently radiating off him. It's familiar enough β one he's met time and time again when facing his brother. It simply feels different than usual given the circumstances... given the fact that they are not at each other's throats. To be wearing his demonic skin as he is, even just barely as he is, it has him feel some sort of way about it and with the way Vergil looks to him, he doesn't hold it for very long. Because with Dante, it's always a matter of holding it β controlling it rather than simply letting it be.
Fire gently rolls over him and the scales disappear from his face and hand, as do the claws and the red burning there in his eyes. He ducks his head some β lets himself take a breath, then smiles lazily up to his brother before he's letting his hand slip away from him. )
You're a sap. Anyone ever tell you that?
( A bit of lightheartedness so as to go back to feeling like himself and tuck the devil away again. )
[Vergil's own demonic features do not linger much further past Dante's, leaving behind human skin and grey-blue eyes as his demonic power is withdrawn back within himself. He rolls his neck a little as Dante releases his hand, Vergil's hand coming back down more properly to his side with nothing holding onto it. At the comment, Vergil scoffs and decides to play along.]
You're one to talk being as big of a crybaby as you are.
[Reaching over, Vergil places his hand on top of Dante's head. He musses that mop of white and gray and only takes his hand back after he's given a light, playful shove to Dante's head to push it down again.]
Head shoved down, he leans off the bed some and snaps his teeth a few times, pretending to bite at his dear big brother before he flops back against the bed, resting back on his hands with a heavy sigh. )
Youβre lucky Iβm too tired to tackle your ass to the ground and make you say uncle.
Now who is starting to slow down in his old age? [he asks as he starts to step away again, rolling his eyes with a light smile. As he goes, Vergil lifts and tugs one of Dante's legs off the bed.] And get your boots off my bed.
[He fully anticipates Dante will just put his leg back up the moment he's on the other side of the divider, but still. Vergil sleeps there. Occasionally Nero does, too. He doesn't want dirty boots on his blankets, and things have returned to a place where he can more comfortably scold Dante for it.]
[Not that Vergil says anything about it one way or another when he returns with his book and settles in beside Dante until he needs to get up and get dinner squared away before Nero gets home, accommodating Dante when his little brother inevitably begins to restlessly sprawl and flops onto him, limbs akimbo as always.]
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[It is odd to see his brother mostly human but traces of the devil still prominent regardless of how few they may be compared to his human features. For Dante, his demonic heritage is a tool. It is one he resents almost as much as he resents their father, but it is a tool for him nonetheless. There is, however, no connection between Dante and that part of himself beyond that. It remains an insurmountable divide that, in a strange way, reflects the divide between brothers as well. Dante's resentments just seem to run too deep, and it's too difficult for Vergil to see it from his brother's perspective. The latter, however, seems far easier to mend and close to Vergil than the former. And the divide between brothers is not exactly anything Vergil would claim to be an easy task in the first place.]
[Still, Dante is here, and he reaches for his brother in more ways than just one. It counts for something.]
[The blue of Vergil's eyes brightens to a cyan rather than their softer grey-blue, his sclera darkening with the rise of his own demonic energy. It's neither the sharp spike of heated emotion from Dante a moment ago, nor is it the gradual rise. Instead, it's almost akin to the devil within Vergil stepping forward, as though it has always been there and only with attention being drawn to it does it step forward now. Vergil matches his brother in partial transformation, but to some extent it is more complete. His is not as much of a patchwork of scales and claws. Instead, from the elbow down, Vergil's arm and hand have transformed completely and glow with the same cyan of his eyes while grey scales form along his hairline and cheeks as well as along the sides and back of his neck.]
Together, [he says with a nod.]
[They have been in opposition to one another for far longer than they have not. And there is still some small instinct there for it even now. It would seem impossible not for there to be given how often it is they've clashed with one another, using their demonic powers and forms to wound and fight to bitter ends against one another. But the instinct is small and it is quiet, and there is no power struggle that lies between them now that would amplify it. In this moment, as devils and as men, they are merely brothers. Twins who balk at the thought of being alike and yet still reflect both the worst and best parts of one another, and need one another for that reason.]
[From now on, when one reaches for the other, he will be there. As hard as it may be to reach for or take hold after all their various hurts and wrongs, they will find a way to do it.]
no subject
Bright red eyes watch the other devil's face β quiet in the way his gaze sweeps over his brother's arm and the power he can feel gently radiating off him. It's familiar enough β one he's met time and time again when facing his brother. It simply feels different than usual given the circumstances... given the fact that they are not at each other's throats. To be wearing his demonic skin as he is, even just barely as he is, it has him feel some sort of way about it and with the way Vergil looks to him, he doesn't hold it for very long. Because with Dante, it's always a matter of holding it β controlling it rather than simply letting it be.
Fire gently rolls over him and the scales disappear from his face and hand, as do the claws and the red burning there in his eyes. He ducks his head some β lets himself take a breath, then smiles lazily up to his brother before he's letting his hand slip away from him. )
You're a sap. Anyone ever tell you that?
( A bit of lightheartedness so as to go back to feeling like himself and tuck the devil away again. )
no subject
You're one to talk being as big of a crybaby as you are.
[Reaching over, Vergil places his hand on top of Dante's head. He musses that mop of white and gray and only takes his hand back after he's given a light, playful shove to Dante's head to push it down again.]
no subject
Head shoved down, he leans off the bed some and snaps his teeth a few times, pretending to bite at his dear big brother before he flops back against the bed, resting back on his hands with a heavy sigh. )
Youβre lucky Iβm too tired to tackle your ass to the ground and make you say uncle.
no subject
[He fully anticipates Dante will just put his leg back up the moment he's on the other side of the divider, but still. Vergil sleeps there. Occasionally Nero does, too. He doesn't want dirty boots on his blankets, and things have returned to a place where he can more comfortably scold Dante for it.]
[Not that Vergil says anything about it one way or another when he returns with his book and settles in beside Dante until he needs to get up and get dinner squared away before Nero gets home, accommodating Dante when his little brother inevitably begins to restlessly sprawl and flops onto him, limbs akimbo as always.]