#▪──── ⚔ ❝ this has NOTHING to do with YOU. STAND DOWN ❞ 「 Closed RP 」

[jetblackknight]

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ starter for @captianimarum's 𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙾 !

⚔ ────▪ ❛ 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚅𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝙰 𝚆𝙾𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙵𝚄𝙻 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙵 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈, 𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙾 . ❜

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ Even as the words left his lips, did Vergil tense at them; he felt so strange, standing in the foyer of a Fortuna home that had seen many years of love and use. How it seemed 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 place he entered was this way. Entire lives and memories made, all without him. A most 𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 price to pay for power, and one that Vergil would never be able to return.                           ❛ Dante tells me often that you manage getting by, despite financial troubles. Such 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 is a staple of Sparda blood. ❜                           Vergil gazed around, to the photographs on the wall, the homely way that Kyrie 𝙳𝙴𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳. A far cry from Devil May Cry, whose walls were worn and yellowed from years of untouched grime. Perhaps he would leave here, return to his brother, and set a cleaning crew upon the 𝙰𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 to bring back some of its former 𝙻𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁. But for now, there was the matter at hand.                           He had been tasked with coming here to 𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙲𝙸𝙻𝙴, to have at least one conversation with son. Such a task had been given to him nearly 𝚂𝙸𝚇 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙷𝚂 𝙰𝙶𝙾, when he and his twin had returned from the Under World. To say that Vergil had been stalling would be an 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃; he knew how his son felt about him. He knew the contempt and the rage and the 𝙷𝙰𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙳 was there. Vergil had been there himself, only with Dante, his mother, his father. Resilience was one trait of a Sparda—holding a 𝙶𝚁𝚄𝙳𝙶𝙴 was another.                           ❛ How have you been faring with Red Grave? Has our absence been a problem? ❜ He wanted to cringe, again, devour himself as would an 𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙾𝚁𝙾𝚂. Vergil had never been a man of many words, and an even lesser man of small talk. Did he ask about the 𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙳𝚁𝙴𝙽—what would be, perhaps, his grandchildren—or his partner, Kyrie? The dog they did not have? Sparda's Might, even the 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 would have been less of an awkward conversation starter than what was, unfortunately, spilling from his lips before he could stop them.                           Coming here had been a 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴. Half-tempted, Vergil squeezed the grip on his own fist tighter; there was no 𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙾 to split himself with again. No way to give Nero back the 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 who had betrayed him. And surely, Vergil knew, his 𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙸𝚃𝚈 would be much better at apology than he ever was. 𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚈 ! Oh, Vergil wished to smack himself. He should have started with that. But what good would it do, when he knew in his heart that no 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 would be granted, not for a million years?

#▪──── ⚔ ❝ this has NOTHING to do with YOU. STAND DOWN ❞ 「 Closed RP 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ there's no NEED for us to CATCH UP ❞ 「 Nero 」 #Long Post #▪──── ⚔ ❝ ( absolutely KICKING myself for forgetting. Much like Vergil I will apologize forever for it ! ) ❞

[jetblackknight]

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ starter for @hundredsmelt's 𝙽𝙸𝙰𝙽!

⚔ ────▪ ❛ 𝙴𝚇𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙴𝙼𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙹𝙾𝙱, 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂 . ❜ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ Vergil regarded the flitting, seemingly human form before him warily. Their scent was... 𝙾𝙵𝙵, in a way that Vergil could not discern. Perhaps it was just the demon blood flying this way and that, or something else, something underneath the scent of crimson 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙼𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙴. His instincts told him to remain at 𝙳𝙴𝙵𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙴, and he did, standing tall and stiff, one hand curled tightly around a 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙻, cerulean blade that looked quite similar to a sword his brother had owned long ago—though he held it lowered, not yet ready to 𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 if the person stealing good 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙴𝚈 was not to be evil.                           ❛ If you've had your fun, 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙿 𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴, and let the 𝙰𝙳𝚄𝙻𝚃𝚂 do their jobs. ❜                           He regarded the figure with 𝚂𝚄𝚂𝙿𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙾𝙽; for such a small frame, they seemed to move with a fluid sort of grace that only came with 𝙳𝙴𝙲𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚂 of honed skill. And the fiery hair... it all seemed too familiar. Where had he seen a redhead of such skill before? He recalled a 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙷 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽, once, old photographs from Dante, on the nights they spent together helping Vergil catch up with all that he had missed. But the person before him was not that woman, and he knew much of that woman's story.                           Still, the familiarity suddenly clicked with such startling 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈 that he took an automatic step back, and only then did he see the flaming tail trailing behind such an agile non-human. 𝙼𝙸𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙴𝙳𝙶𝙴 flared in his grasp, his own infernal energy channeled deeply to it. He felt the rush of his own 𝙰𝙳𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙴 and inhaled deeply, grinding his heel into the blood-spattered 𝙰𝚂𝙿𝙷𝙰𝙻𝚃 to await what he knew would be a 𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙾𝚄𝚂 battle if he made a single wrong move.

#▪──── ⚔ ❝ this has NOTHING to do with YOU. STAND DOWN ❞ 「 Closed RP 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ Insane BUFFOON! I don't know WHERE you came FROM ! ❞ 「 Nian 」 #hundredsmelt

[jetblackknight]

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ Starter for @knightshonour's 𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙰𝙽 !

⚔ ────▪ ❛ 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄. . . ❜

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ The figure standing before Vergil stands exactly as tall as he, sending a wave of unease through his tired bones. And he can sense it, too, in the way the man drifts a 𝙳𝙸𝙵𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃 kind of brimstone towards his own. His infernal blood surges, though from where the man is standing, all he can see is the glint of Vergil's 𝙻𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 eyes staring him down, narrow slits that, for all appearances, seem human enough.                           He sits on the edge of his twin brother's writing desk in the dark, lean arms crossed over one another, a light vest of high-quality 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 covering his most intimate assets. He needs no more than that; and even then, the armor is only for appearances. No blade of the known world had ever come close to 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 it, and those that ever tried all ended in the same swift 𝚁𝚄𝙸𝙽.                           He regards the figure with 𝙲𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚂𝙸𝚃𝚈, too, though, tilting his head to the side, sizing the man up. Such a large and heavy blade... he wants to scoff in the darkness. His twin brother would have had a 𝙵𝙸𝙴𝙻𝙳 𝙳𝙰𝚈 with the man, but alas, Dante was not there, away on business all the way on another island. A day's trip at the least by ship, less by 𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽.                           With a flick of his fingers, a hundred intricate 𝙵𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂 begin to ride from various candelabras, chandeliers, and lanterns around Devil May Cry, bathing both himself and the man in question in gentle, dim light. Each flicker casts across the intricate silver 𝙴𝙼𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚈 on Vergil's over coat, a well-worn duster made of velvet and silk; not a 𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙽𝚃'𝚂 wear, though the torn edges of his coat vents are mangled by battle and time. Even the creak of his 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 gloves and boots are marred with age. He does not seem to mind, lifting off the desk in full, 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 posture. He lowers his arms; in one hand, a 𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁 of sparkling cerulean light beginning to glow.                           ❛ State your 𝙱𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂, or you will find close acquaintance with the lean edge of my 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙴. ❜

#▪──── ⚔ ❝ this has NOTHING to do with YOU. STAND DOWN ❞ 「 Closed RP 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ fine. i'll EXPENSE some EFFORY this time . ❞ 「 Rowan 」 #Long Post #knightshonour

[jetblackknight]

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ Starter for @sirenum's 𝙴𝚅𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙴!

⚔ ────▪ ❛ 𝚃𝚁𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙴𝙰. 𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙾𝚄𝚂 . . . ❜

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ How else was he supposed to start? He had never done this before. Vergil felt 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙴, not with anyone but himself, for his inability to do this on his own; and he felt 𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙰𝚃𝙴 for not having the strength to find the answer to a question that had been on his mind for close to 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂, now. To pass on such a heavy, drowning inquiry to someone more suited and distant than himself... his 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃 was visible, in the way he could not sit still, crossing and uncrossing his legs, fiddling with the manila folder in front of him and the thick mailing envelope on top of it. Such fiddling was unusual for the cambion, and that much was evident.                           ❛ As for... this meeting—you and I are alike, as odd as it sounds to say. An 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 thirst for knowledge, and the unending 𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 to seek it out. ❜                           Why, oh why, did he feel so nauseous? It was unbecoming. Vergil fiddled with his own cup of green tea, a clear 𝙶𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂 teacup and saucer from home; he was quite particular about his tea, and this was the only 𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙰𝙲𝙻𝙴 he would drink from—easier to spot leaves that had escaped their infuser's confinement. A 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝚅𝙴𝚁 spoon, small, sat on its saucer while he turned it; over the din of the other patrons around them, glass scraped gently against glass.                           ❛ I would hope such a 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙾𝚄𝚂 offer will suffice; what I seek is not easily found, otherwise I would not have need of your services. I've been told you only speak to clients by referral—my brother, 𝙳𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴, is mine. He claims you are one of the 𝙱𝙴𝚂𝚃. ❜                           Two fingers tapped on the manila folder in front of him and slide it towards the 𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲 woman before him, and if she paid attention, she would find that Vergil could not look her in the eye. If she tried to take the folder, his fingers held it to the cafe table with a 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙶𝚃𝙷 unusual for what appeared to be a mere man.                           ❛ There is one thing I ask of you, before you look within. I need to know that no matter what you find, you will not conceal the truth of what I seek from me. Too many have done so in my past, and it has led to 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂 destruction. Not your word—your 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙴. ❜

#▪──── ⚔ ❝ this has NOTHING to do with YOU. STAND DOWN ❞ 「 Closed RP 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ i am more than CAPABLE of handling this ON MY OWN . ❞ 「 Evangeline 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ ( ' on my own ' my left butt cheek. you're TERRIFIED of finding out old man ! ) ❞ #sirenum #long post

[jetblackknight]

continuation of @vctlan ' s ask meme ! : >

⚔ ────▪ ❛ 𝚈𝙾𝚄, 𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙳, 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙵 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚇 . ❜

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ It had begun about a week after he and his brother had returned from the Demon World. Vergil had always been the more observant of the two twins, hyper-aware of his surroundings even in times of rest and relaxation ; he called it mere preparedness, but anyone could see it for what it was. He couldn't relax because he didn't think he could. As such, he saw most of everything around him, minute expressions in others' faces, the gentle twitches of their human forms, analyzing and understanding all that he could.

                          Watching Kyrie for the first time told him so much in so little words ; the gentle ease with which his son treated her, as if she were made of glass ( and to a kin of Sparda, she may as well have been ) , attending to her often when she seemed to be on the verge of fainting. He noticed the way she would glance at people, her eyes dull and swimming with a lack of focus. He recognized it well, because he had felt much the same, split from himself and dying. He saw much the same of his humanity in Kyrie in those moments.                           So it came as no surprise to anyone when he began to show up for the young woman when she was in her times of need—an unspoken rule that Vergil learned quickly. With Nero, Dante, and everyone else busy with demons, that left him to take care of her. They did not trust him yet, you see, wary of his sudden shift of character ; all eyes on him, watching, wondering. . . would he turn on them unexpectedly ? Was he truly ' good ' now ? Or would he show his ' true colors ' in time, when he could no longer quell his former murderous intent ? Stuck at home in this way . . .                           Perhaps it was mere loneliness, rather than a desire to help. Or perhaps he simply wanted to make a good impression. Or a mixture of both. Regardless, he began to strain the bone broth he had been making—a meal he had learned a lifetime ago, when a dark alley was all he could muster for comfort and meals were few and far in between. Scraps of bone from the dumpsters of restaurants were a go-to. At least, in this instance, the bones had been bought that morning, fresh from a butcher. She had no worry of stray bacteria.                           ❛ Nero tells me that he will be gone for at least a day or two. . . And it is so boring at Devil May Cry. Here, I thought I would enjoy the quiet. Yet . . . all I feel is unsettled. ❜                           He turned, setting a scalding ceramic pot back on its stove top, no care that he had held it with bare hands. Much like his twin, the heat did not affect him in the way it would have blistered and burnt a human's skin. He gestured to the broth, which he let sit for a moment to drain further, and turned towards a counter chock-full of vegetables still half-encased in remnants of soil.                           ❛ My intrusion is not unwelcome, is it ? Though my son and I are still at odds, he extended an open invitation, and . . . I intend to make good on that. ❜ Vergil grabbed a few of the vegetables—potatoes, carrots, and an onion, and began to rinse them, shifting aside the large bowl of bone broth that was now nearly fully drained. ❛ I hope you are not vegetarian . . . bone broth is an incredible source of nutrients for humans. It will help with the exhaustion . . . with a small tweak. ❜                           Glittering just beside where the vegetables had been was a mortar and pestle and a half-obscured pouch—within, what appeared to be glittering gems of green, red, yellow, and white. Vergil did not acknowledge them, but the implication was clear as to what they were.

#▪──── ⚔ ❝ this has NOTHING to do with YOU. STAND DOWN ❞ 「 Closed RP 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ FINE . . . i'll expense some EFFORT this time ❞ 「 Kyrie 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ ( Vergil's love language is cooking tbh . . . it is the little things for his daughter-sort-of-in-law ! ) ❞