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adevilsfolly · 10 months

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"Hie thee home" Chapter II

“It feels as if my insides are melting; what manner of madness is this?” “It is the burden of love; the retribution of sinful pleasures of the flesh.” “O’ Father, is there a way I may revoke such emotions? Can I forswear such a painful union?” “Such an accursed bond may never be broken. Your fates are now interwoven; for better or for worse.”

~Thursday the 1st, June, 2023 4:42 AM~ ====================================================

“Come on, V,” Uriel sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I won't tell anyone, just let me do it."

The lithe man’s brow furrowed harshly, “I am alright.”

“No-” Uriel’s arms crossed as he glared at V, “No, you’re not. You’re just getting slower--- just let me carry you.”

“I am fine.”

The ginger-haired man gave a large over-exaggerated groan before moving forwards again. With each step, V began to lag further and further behind. Another half hour or so passed and Uriel turned to talk to V but found he wasn’t beside him. A heavy sigh left his nose as he turned around to see V lagging behind by nearly 20 feet (6 meters).

“Alright, Duke of Limbs,” Uriel growled loudly and tromped over to the poet, “let’s fuckin’ go!” He seized V and yanked him up--supporting the skinny man's weight completely with his right arm.

“What do you think you’re doing-!” V struggled a bit but was unable to break free from the devil.

Uriel growled, “Quit struggling or you’ll be over my shoulder next, princess.” The devil continued forwards, his pace unchanging from earlier, “Now, where are we supposed to be going?”

V grumbled a bit in anger before letting out a faint sigh, “Continue till you re-enter Red Grave then listen for music,” he begrudgingly rested the side of his head against Uriel’s shoulder, “I’m sure with your ears you’ll hear it just fine.”

“Alright, then what?”

Uriel awaited a response but got nothing. When he looked down at the frail man, he saw that V was already fast asleep. He smiled as he whispered, an underlying feeling of melancholy tugged at his words as he somberly, “Stubborn as always,” a heavy blanket of wistful nostalgia coated his mind as he continued onwards, his grip tightening on the small man, and a small faint purring coming from deep within the devil’s chest.

It didn’t take long for Uriel to reach the city ruins. As he looked around, he shook his head at the absolutely obliterated cityscape, "This place has definitely seen better days."

He playfully kicked a rock and felt an instant wave of regret as he watched the baseball-sized pebble hit a nearby car and set off its alarm, “For fucks sake…”

It didn’t take long for Uriel to start hearing movement around him. Admittedly, if he hadn’t been encumbered with a certain someone, he would’ve made the first move instead of waiting. However, he didn’t have much choice and, quite frankly, didn’t want to wake up V; enjoying the peaceful silence between them. The sounds came from several directions, a method demons use when hunting to distract their prey before a second one springs up from behind. Something Uriel was all too familiar with doing himself.

Casually, the ginger side-stepped and allowed a lunging Chaos demon to go past him. With as little as a forward motion of his wrist, Uriel snagged the demon’s tail and slammed it down into the ground, killing it. He then pivoted around on his heels and turned to face the small group of lesser demons.

With a sigh and annoyed roll of his eyes, the devil counted the demons; two more Chaos and two Baphomets.

“Since I’m in a good mood,” he raised a brow as he drew his knife, extending both sides, “I’ll give you a chance to leave,” but he got no response, “Of course, why would you listen to me.”

The two Chaos demons darted at Uriel. Quickly, he ducked underneath the first and, like a hot sharp knife through butter, he sliced the underbelly of the creature wide open.

Uriel stood up and shook off the gore, “In all my years, I’ve never lost to you lowly vermin,” he carefully removed a chunk of flesh from V’s hair, “and I don’t plan on it now.”

A wide wicked smile spread across his face. There was a short pause as the demons stared at Uriel, seemingly confused at the devil’s boastful nature. A shard of ice flew past the left side of Uriel’s face, slicing it.

He blinked slowly, dumbfounded at him not dodging the attack, and sighed with a small shake of his head, “That’s what I get for boasting.”

Uriel sprinted toward the two icy demons. All the while, he did his best to not wake the fragile man in his grasp. His speed was unexpected and caught the two demons off guard allowing him to slice the first Baphomet’s throat, quickly incinerating the icy flesh. Blood sprayed across Uriel’s, who gladly lapped up it off his face using his elongated tongue. Then turned his focus to V and began to wipe the blood from his face.

The second Baphomet attempted to use Uriel’s focus on V as an opening to shoot up another set of ice crystals from the ground. However, the ginger quickly jumped off to the side and the ice missed him; only to impale the final Chaos demon that had been attempting to sneak up behind Uriel. He ran at the demon as he moved his blade to his mouth, holding it by the handle using his teeth. Using his free hand, the sickly pale devil grabbed the final Baphomet’s neck, his nails digging deep into the soft flesh of the ice demon, and then slammed it into the concrete several times in pure frustration. Only stopping once it was nothing but a clump of sticky red mush.

The ginger’s breath was ragged as he closed his eyes, doing his best to keep himself in check; not wanting to cause any more damage to the city than what has already occurred. With a small huff, Uriel grabbed the knife out of his mouth and licked the blood from his hand. A small hum came from him as he ran the asymmetrical grind of each blade against his tongue, cleaning them, and then closed the knife.

Leisurely he tucked it into the edge of his unscathed sweatpants, “Pretty anti-climatic…” He sighed and continued onwards.

V was still asleep in the devil’s arms and, despite him being covered in demon's blood, V was no worse for wear. Uriel very gently used his sleeve to clean off V’s face further and found himself wanting to coddle the delicate man. Mindlessly, he placed a soft kiss on V’s forehead and began to purr softly at the oddly comforting feeling of having someone so close; especially someone of V's (or, rather, Vergil’s) caliber.

A small dreary smile tugged at Uriel’s features as he traversed the city, following the faint sound of music as instructed. It had only been a few years since he’d been in Red Grave but it feels like a lifetime ago. He remembers how lively the city was, the children running along the sidewalk, the street-side sellers trying to sell whatever they could, and the smell of the nearby bars’ grills that were always packed every Friday and Saturday. Red Grave felt like home to him for those few years and it had been the only place on Earth that he’d ever wanted to stay in.

Now? It reminded him of all those centuries ago when the armies of the Underworld were on the verge of conquering the human race; a war that Uriel refused to take part in.

“Damn,” he thought to himself, stopping in front of a decimated corner store, “They used to have really good chocolates. I hope that young woman…” he pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in thought, trying to remember her name, “Sasha? Sarah? Sammy..? Whatever-- I hope she made it out alright.”

“Were you close?” A soft sultry voice rang through his ear.

“Huh?” Uriel stared at V with parted lips, “I- uh, sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It is alright,” V sleepily rubbed his head against Uriel, “So, who was she?”

“Ah,” Uriel continued moving forwards, “No one important.”

“Are you sure? It won’t upset me if you’d found companion--”

“What?! No! We weren’t-- Gross,” Uriel laughed softly, “She and I were friends; although Dante was adamant that she,” he moved his jaw in thought, “wanted me.”

V’s eyes focused on the necklace around Uriel’s neck, “I see… May I ask why you said gross?”

“Verg--” Uriel clicked his tongue, “Sorry, V, I don’t find humans attractive.” The devil stopped and looked up the side of a tall building, “In fact,” instantly, the pair were atop the structure via teleportation, “I find humans repulsive.”

Slowly, the ginger began to survey the city and hoped to find the source of the noise or, at least, gain some sort of idea of where to go.

The lithe man laughed with a shake of his head, “You know that Vergil is half-human and that I am completely human, right?”

Sad glazed-over mauve eyes met with V’s, “I know,” his voice was deflated once again.

The poet pursed his lips, taking a short pause; unsure as to what was exactly going through the devil’s mind, “Then do you hate--”

“You are different; your entire bloodline is different to me,” Uriel’s head snapped up, figuring out where the sound was coming from, “I had respect for Sparda, even if we didn’t see eye-to-eye.”

V raised a brow and tighten his grasp on the devil, knowing that he was in for a bumpy ride, “You knew him?”

The ghostly pale devil walked over to the side opposite where he was headed and laughed softly at V’s words. His grip tightened on his leather-clad passenger and he sprinted off to the other ledge, jumping off it. Unintentionally, he landed on top of a chained Behemoth’s back and killed it on impact.

As the devil ran through the city streets, avoiding all manner of demons, he answered V’s question, “Yes, I knew Sparda,” a small pained bittersweet smile pulled at his lips, “He was quite the spunky devil, even as a whelp.”

A curious tilt adorned V’s brow as he spoke in disbelief, “As a whelp..? You knew him when he was younger?”

Uriel laughed with a wide smile, “Of course I did. You didn’t know that?”

The raven-haired man’s face was contorted into a confused glare.

“V,” Uriel’s eyes met with his, “I am much older than your father; by at least a few thousand years.”

“What?”

The ginger’s pace slowed to a jog, nearing the destination, “Really?” he laughed, “You didn’t figure that out?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Uriel’s smile dropped upon noticing V’s frown, “Oh come on, V, don’t be so angry. If you consider how I was made, I have no age,” he shrugged, “I'm not even alive if we want to be all technical.”

“I suppose you are right,” V sighed and gave Uriel a soft smile, “Guess that makes me a reverse cougar of sorts?”

“I could be a gigolo-- or just a creeper; which do you prefer?”

They shared a laugh as Uriel’s speed dropped to a walk, meandering up to the loud white van with the words “Devil May Cry” plastered on the side with an LED sign.

“This what we’re lookin’ for?”

V turned his head outwards, “Yes,” he sat upwards, Uriel slowly dipping his legs down and offering support to the unsteady man, “Thank you and, please, do not mention anything about Vergil. I--”

“You don’t have to explain,” Uriel stuck his hands in his pockets, leaning back casually, “I get it.”

“Thank you, Uriel.” V turned away from the ginger, “Give me a moment, I will retrieve the others.”

With that, V shuffled off and into the van’s door, leaving Uriel alone.

In his boredom, the pale devil took out his knife and flicked the blades out, fiddling with it mindlessly. An odd heavy feeling pricked at his mind as he thought about what lies ahead or, rather, what reaction he will have to Vergil’s demon half. Would Uriel even be able to fight him? Or would it be too much for him to stomach? Would Vergil’s demon side, Urizen, recognize him? What will this “Urizen” even look like?

A wave of sullen mourning encompassed his mind. His brow furrowed harshly. Uriel had never properly acknowledged what happened that fated morning over two decades ago. The loss of a friend he’d long since yearned to have. How the eldest son of Sparda simply just up and left, never to return; abandoning a confused and distraught Uriel completely alone. As his mind divulged further into the sickening spiral, he’d begun to move the blade faster around in his fingers.

Perhaps Vergil had taken his fill of Uriel and squeezed enough knowledge from the accident devil that the eldest twin no longer needed him. Maybe Vergil had been playing him the whole time, that their entire companionship and bond was nothing more than just a tool. But then why wouldn’t Vergil take Uriel with him to use as a weapon as so many other of Uriel’s “masters” have? Why leave Uriel at the house, alone and without warning? Why sever the bond of the knife before leaving if he had planned on attacking Mundus? Vergil obviously didn’t care enough about Uriel that it was out of kindness. What was Vergil trying to gain out of toying with this lonely devil?

The devil’s brow twitched as he noticed how his hand felt weirdly hot and a dripping sensation made him stop his thoughts for a moment. When he looked down, he saw a large cut that ran up from his wrist all the way through his palm, and through his left hand’s ring finger--ending at the tip. He side-eyed his knife that was in the other hand and noticed that he had indeed cut himself on the lead-colored metal. A small huff of irritation came from him as he watched his skin pull itself back together and the irritation dissipate.

Then a loud click followed by a squeak caught his attention and he turned to look at the now-open van door. Quickly, he closed the blade and placed it back in its resting spot on his left side. Out of the doorway strode (a freshly cleaned off) V followed by two others; a young woman with brunette hair and an unarmed young man with platinum-silver hair.

The lithe man leaned hard on his cane and gestured at Uriel with his free hand, “You'll have to forgive the extended departure; he was rather hard to find.”

“Well now,” Uriel smirked and folded his arms, staring at the young man, “What do we have here?”

Nero’s stare thinned as he removed his jacket, tossing it to the ground.

“V,” Uriel’s eyes were still trained on Nero as the ginger pulled the blade from his waistline, “Hold this for a minute.” He tossed his knife to V.

V and Nico’s eyes widened in confusion as they stared at the two. Uriel and Nero were damn near butting foreheads--or rather, butting forehead to chest, due to Uriel’s short height--and were locked in an intense menacing stare.

Uriel’s lip twitched as he let out a low sustained growl and Nero did the same, as if to size one another up. In an instant, Nero backhanded Uriel, using his human arm, and sent the devil flying off into the distance. A sudden panic came over V and he went to move to mediate the hostile situation but was stopped by Shadow; who had not only summoned themselves but was wrapped around V’s legs, keeping the poet still. Nico noticed the cat’s sudden appearance and shrugged, lighting a cigarette; figuring that the cat had the right idea.

A quick flash of auburn flew across the trio’s point of view and shoulder drove into Nero, sending the young man flying just as far--if not further--than he’d just done to said auburn flash. With a wide devilish grin, Uriel quickly hopped around, using the various debris as his landing points, and found the crater that Nero was laying face up in.

He squatted down, resting his forearms on his knees, “Huh, must’ve been the long hair that gave you power; since you’re already--!”

Nero pushed up and tackled Uriel at the hips, wrestling with him for a moment before pinning the ginger, “Guess you’re gettin’ dumber in your old age.”

Uriel smiled with a small ‘hmph’ and forced Nero over, now pinning the young man, “Sorry but it’s gonna take a lot more than that to make me submit.”

“Oh yeah?”

The two began to struggle again, however, Nero was unable to reverse the pin. Uriel had a smug look on his face despite the small worry in his mind that this was the first time he’d actually had to try and keep Nero down. After a moment, the two shared a soft laugh and let go of each other. Both of them sat down and were breathing heavily, a smile tugging at their lips.

“So,” Nero looked over at Uriel, “Since when are you that fast, huh?”

“Eh?” Uriel tilted his head.

“And since when do you have eyes like that? Or ears--- Why do you look so--”

“Different?”

Nero nodded.

“Well,” Uriel’s eyes broke from his, “How shall I put it…” he pursed his lips in thought, “The person you knew before… Remind me; Xane, was the alias--correct?”

He nodded once more.

“Think of Xane as something akin to Trish’s “Gloria”; a ruse used to keep a lower profile. Mine was especially created because of Dante.”

Nero frowned, “So then who are you?”

Uriel smiled as he stood up and offered a hand to help Nero up, “Name’s Uriel.”

With a grunt, Nero grabbed the devil’s hand and returned to his feet, “You aren’t human, are you?”

“Damn, what gave it away?” There was a playful sarcasm in his voice.

The silver-haired hunter punched Uriel’s shoulder, “What are you then? You don’t look like Dante or Trish…”

“Actually,” the devil placed a hand on Nero’s shoulder, “I am exactly like Trish,” he moved his head to the side in thought, “Well, I mean, kind of..?”

“What’s that supposed---”

“Hey!” A loud southern voice cut Nero off. The two of them turned to see Nico and V walking toward them, “What the hell was that about, huh?”

Uriel slowly panned to Nero, “Finally find a girlfriend?”

Nero punched Uriel’s shoulder again, however, he hit much harder and even moved Uriel from the force, “Fuck off.” Nero smiled, “She’s Kyrie’s.”

“Really? Huh, I didn’t think she swung that way,” Uriel shrugged, “Good for her-- So what that’s your sister-in-law then, right?”

Nero gave a breathy laugh, “If they got married, yeah.”

Uriel smiled, however, it seemed disingenuous. Before Nero could ask what was wrong, Nico spoke again.

“You two tryin’ to get the attention of e’ery demon in town?”

Nero laughed, “Sorry, just got carried away in the moment.”

“Carried away in killin’ V’s lil’ pet project?”

Uriel raised a brow, “V’s “pet project”?”

Nero and Nico ignored Uriel’s comment as Nero answered her, “Hey, be nice. He’s more than V’s pet project, he’s also Dante’s pet.”

“Now how the hell’s that make any sense if Dante don’t even know ‘em?”

“Who said Dante doesn’t know him?”

V finally spoke up, “Dante knows Uriel?”

Nero nodded, surprised at V’s unawareness, “Yeah, Xa-- Uriel, worked as a hunter for a while.”

Uriel folded his arms, “A while? Alright, hold on- First off, I am no one's pet or project; if you call me that one more time, I ain’t fuckin’ helping. Second off, I have been working at the Devil May Cry about as long as you’ve been alive, altar boy.”

V shook his head, “You have?”

Uriel smiled softly, “Yeah, I needed a place to go after I lost my house back in ‘99 and I’ve always had a knack for demon hunting.”

Nico used her thumb and forefinger to squeeze out the cherry of her smoke, stepping on it to put it out, “So you’re a demon hunter then?”

Uriel nodded, “Yes I am, Ms..?”

She stuck out a hand, “Goldstein but you can call me Nico.”

“Goldstein..?”

“Yessir.”

Uriel smiled, “That means you’re a gunsmith, right?”

She nodded, confused at the ginger’s sudden excitement.

“So then you do gun repairs-?”

“Yes..?”

Uriel pursed his lips, “Do you have experience with Devil Arms? Like Artemis or Pandora?”

Nico raised a brow, her gaze flicking between people, “Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush; what’s the question, shorty?”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “I have a gun that is a Devil Arm which needs repairs, physical ones; something that I do not have the knowledge to do. Once this whole ordeal is over, I would love to either learn how to fix it or pay you to repair it.”

“Sure thing; I can repair it now if you want,” she pulled out her pack of smokes, placing an unlit one in her mouth, “Not like I’m gonna join ya on the field…” She fumbled around for her lighter before flicking the silver zippo open.

“You aren’t?” Uriel raised a brow, watching her struggle to get a spark.

“Nope, I ain’t a hunter,” her brow furrowed in irritation at her unworking lighter.

She watched as the sickly-looking man snap his fingers and a small flame adorning the tip of his thumb, then he offered to light her smoke by pointing his thumb at her, “I would but I don’t have the energy to retrieve it at the moment, I am still rather exhausted.”

“Ah sure thing,” she nodded and took him up on the offer, lighting her smoke, “Thanks,” she looked at him, unsure how to feel about working with this devil.

An awkward silence fell over the group and, after a few moments, V cleared his throat, “We should get moving while the day is young,” he began to meander back to the van.

Nero nodded and laughed, slapping Uriel’s shoulder, “Race ya’!”

“Oh, you’re so on!”

As the two raced off, Nico caught up to V, “Hey, uh can I ask ya somethin’?”

V nodded, “Sure.”

“If he’s really one of them demons,” she removed the smoke from her mouth and shook her head, “Why’d he help hunt them?”

With a small smirk, V let out a half-laugh huff, “I have never managed to get a clear answer as to why; however…”

After a small pause, Nico raised a brow, “However, what?” She put the cigarette back in her mouth.

The lithe man smiled, although an oddly pained feeling filled his voice, “Uriel used to read with me and when I’d ask his motives he’d always point to the same start of a poem; ‘Can I see anothers woe,/And not be in sorrow too?/Can I see anothers grief,/And not seek for kind relief. Can I see a falling tear./And not feel my sorrows share,/Can a father see his child,/Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd.’.”

“What’s that suppose’ to mean? He’s got a soft spot for humans?”

“Perhaps. He has never stated much beyond having a strong distaste for humanity as a whole.”

She pursed her lips, “Great that’s reassurin’.”

“He means well,” he softly sighed, “His experiences with people have been far from amicable.”

“ ‘least Nero seems to like ‘em.”

“It would seem so, yes.”

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adevilsfolly · 1 year

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"And Root Up the Infernal Grove" Chapter I

"It's not my fault, I didn't want this." "I understand that however--" "No, don't you dare say that; I don't want to hear it."

~Thursday the 1st, June, 2023 2:58 AM~

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V’s body trembled as he walked along the broken asphalt pathway, moving slower with each passing minute. The past few days had been brutal, to say the least; in hindsight, V should have taken Nero’s offer to help.

"Ugh! This ugly stick better be worth it, V. I mean, it doesn't even look cool! And what's with this stupid blanket you have me carrying around everywhere? I don't-" Griffon’s complaints were falling on deaf ears. An exasperated sigh left V’s lips, unable to argue with his feathered companion.

V hadn’t explained why he needed such a mundane-looking object or what he was planning to do with it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if this was going to work, but he was desperate for help; no matter the cost.

A half-hour passed as they continued forwards. Upon finding a large open area, V stopped, looked around, then proceeded further into the large plateau.

Griffon laughed a bit, “Awh, what are we gonna have a pic--” V shot the bird a venomous glare, making the bird bite his tongue. The overly-large hawk set the blanket roll down and stood on the ground five or so feet behind his master; watching intently.

V stuck his cane into the ground and carefully meandered forwards five or so feet. Another sigh left his lips as he looked down in his hand at the object of his cacoethes pursuit.

It was a plain silver knife handle; its only decoration was two small knobs placed near the middle. A fluid motion of his thumb between the two nubs made two blades appear from each end. One blade of the Haladie knife was a bronze color while the opposing side was a dark-lead color. Although the metal of the blades is neither Damascus steel nor bronze; the material was a bit fickler than most, one not of the human world.

While deep in thought, V mindlessly used his tongue to play with one of his canines as he ran a finger along the auburn side. The blade had begun to show aging with minor bits of rust near the base of the blades and it was beyond dull. With a twitch of his brow and a quiet hiss, V pushed the bronze-colored blade hard into his right palm and sliced it wide open. He ran his bleeding flesh across the lead-colored side, covering it the best he could.

With this completed, V raised the knife horizontally and grasped it tightly with his still-bleeding hand. Taking a slow steady breath, he spoke in a loud commanding voice, "I call forth the son of Death; harbinger of the end times. Heed this call, by my blood shall you rise," V swiftly sliced his left wrist wide-open, a generous amount of his blood dripping down onto the dirt below, "Come forth, and serve your new master."

The air stilled as both V and Griffon waited for something to happen. After a few minutes, there still was nothing. V frowned as he stared at the blade and clicked his tongue in irritation; unsure of what he did wrong. Carefully, V tucked the now-sheathed blade into the edge of his jeans.

“Heh-” Griffon’s crass voice cut into V’s thoughts, “Real nice trick there-”

Suddenly, there was a thunderous ear-shattering crack with a large plume of a black smog-like cloud that fully enveloped V.

Griffon flew up into the air in panic with a loud squawk. Before the large blue hawk could wrap his mind around what was going on, the smog dissipated.

The avian’s golden eyes focused on the back of V’s head, who had knelt, “V what the hell was that?!”

The gothic man shook his head slightly and turned his head a little to the side, not breaking his stare down in front of him, “Blanket?”

Confused but curious as to what was going on, Griffon obeyed and grabbed the blanket off the ground, then tossed it to V. Gently, the tattooed man draped the fabric over something in front of him.

“So you gonna tell me what…” the bird rounded the corner and saw what V was looking at.

On the ground, lying face up was a ghostly pale man.

V had placed the blanket across the man’s hips and begun slowly ghosting his fingertips along the man’s sickly body. Once his digits reached his neck, he carefully fixed a necklace that was around the man’s neck; it was a silver chain with a labradorite devil’s horn charm. After it was untangled, V placed a palm on the man’s cheek and gently thumbed over his skin; resting there for a while.

“You know,” the bird chimed in, “There are easier ways to see naked men these days.”

V gave him a short half-hearted laugh, “I assure you this is no ordinary man.”

“What- Was he your prom date or somethin’?” Griffon chuckled at his own joke.

V’s brow furrowed a bit, “Not quite…”

Silence fell again, which gave Griffon time to examine the figure. The man didn’t seem much older than perhaps 40. He lacked any body or facial hair; however, there was hair atop his head that was short with a grey-ginger coloration. His face was sunken in and his ears were pointed sharply at the end. That’s when Griffon realized what he was looking at.

“You brought back a devil?!” the bird ruffled his feathers in confusion and slight panic, “V are you sure that this is a good idea? What if they are on-”

“I assure you,” V stood upwards with a small huff, “he won’t side with Urizen,” he began to wander back over to his cane.

"I don't know about this, V. This is a pretty dangerous risk to take…"

The lithe man smirked as he pulled his silvery support from its resting place, "Their help is worth that price. You should know that."

The blue hawk huffed, "What, just cause we are both demons you think I know them?"

"No," V turned to look at his feathery familiar, "You surely can feel it..?"

"I've got no idea what you're talking about, there bud," the bird looked back down at the man with a curious growl.

V raised a brow and mumbled with a shake of his head, "I wonder-"

Loud movement caught the pair's attention, turning them from the unconscious man. A fairly large horde of various demons had appeared.

Griffon flew past V remarking about how they can’t ever catch a break. The leather-clad man summoned Shadow to help the avian as he sighed. In hindsight, V should have thought about how the summoning would draw demons to them. The familiars and V finished off demon after demon; however, it seemed as if two more would appear after every one slain. The poet was much too exhausted to handle summoning Nightmare; so he could only hope that the onslaught would stop soon.

That’s when V saw an odd movement near where the summoned devil lay; however, when he looked over, all that remained was the blanket. A small smile pricked at V’s features as he moved out of the fight and called back his familars; much to Griffon’s disdain.

“V, you trying to get us killed?!” the bird squawked as he flew nearby V.

The raven-haired man smiled, “No, not today at least,” he pulled out his poetry book and began to flip through the pages in thought.

Both Shadow and Griffon watched the horde begin to fade into a crimson rain. The cause of such was something that was moving too quickly for either of them to focus on. V paid this no mind and found what he was looking for.

With a slow lick of his lips, he began to recite the poem, “ ‘And, to end thy cruel mocks,/Annihilate thee on the rocks,’,” V paused for a moment and watched as several Riot demons were tossed around as if they were nothing.

V continued, “ ‘And another form create/To be subservient to my fate.’,” the demonic horde had vanished and, unsurprisingly, the man from before stood in the midst of the carnage.

The pale devil stood with his back to V before turning his head slightly, quietly responding, “ ‘Let us agree to give up love,/And root up the Infernal Grove;’.”

V took a few steps towards the man, “ ‘Then shall we return and see/The worlds of happy Eternity.’,” he closed his book with a gentle thump and tucked it back into his clothing.

Silence fell across the area, a thick heavy dangerous silence. Then there was a quick flash of black smoke once more and the devil was gone.

“Great,” Griffon chimed in and flew over to V, “You’re only hope turned out to be a pa--”

“Only hope?” A low strained voice whispered right against the side of Griffon’s head, making the bird squawk loudly in surprise.

V turned to see what happened but found only Griffon, with Shadow following a few feet behind.

“You are familiar,” the voice now was in V’s ear.

With a small startled grunt, V turned in a circle to try and locate the devil, “I am.”

“Why?” the voice was loud now, enough for all three of them to hear.

“Show yourself first,” V frowned a bit.

Another small bout of silence fell over the group. It didn’t take long for the pale man from before to reappear, however, he had clothing on now. A smoke-grey shirt hung loosely over his frame accompanied by a pair of slate-grey sweatpants, and a set of black leather work boots.

V eyed him up and down before he spoke quietly, “You look good, Uriel,” a small smirk tugged at the lithe man’s face, “It seems time has been kind to you.”

“Who are you?” Uriel’s voice was still rough as if he had been shouting for hours on end.

“I think you know exactly who I am.”

Uriel moved his jaw to the side in thought before shaking his head, avoiding V’s eyes, “I have an idea,” he let out a huff of disbelief and looked down, “but that’s not possible.”

“Care to indulge me?”

The devil looked up and locked eyes with V’s emerald gaze, “You are reminiscent of Sparda’s firstborn; however,” he pursed his lips, “something’s not right. You’re not,” he shook his head, unsure how to explain.

V broke off from the stare first and smiled down at the ground, almost shamefully, “You are correct.”

Uriel’s expression quickly turned to a harsh frown and his tone did the same, “Then, what do you want, Vergil.”

“I need your help,” V meekly looked up, “and, please, call me V”

Uriel shook his head with a half-hearted huff, “Why on Earth would I ever help you after the shit you pulled on me, huh?”

V’s eyes drifted down again and Shadow bunted against his hand, hoping to give him some comfort, “I am sorry for what he did, truly. If it had been only me,” he sighed softly, “I never would have left.”

“Only you?” Uriel’s eyes sharpened to a squint.

“Yes, only me,” his lips turned to a thin line, “As you can tell, I am not fully the man you once knew. I am only half of--”

“You used Yamato on yourself?!” Uriel let out a loud groan and stared up at the sky for a minute, trying to keep his anger in check, “What the fuck is wrong with you! There’s not enough of you to support two living beings.”

“I know,” V looked up, “I do not have much time to return to,” he gestured with his eyes to the large Qliphoth tree in the distance and Uriel followed his gaze, “him.”

“Your other half?” Uriel sighed and put a hand out telling V to stop for a moment as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “So let me guess, you want me to help you return to your-- your devil half?”

“Yes,” V gave him a sullen small smile, “I know that I have no right to ask you for such help after… what happened; however, I am out of options,” V sighed as Uriel returned his gaze to the gothic poet, “Dante was unable to defeat Urizen and is most likely dead.”

“Dante’s dead?” Uriel upturned his brows and placed his hands on his hips, “That’s a shock… You know, I can’t say I am upset about any of this, you two had it coming...”

V’s brows furrowed into an expression of both sadness and frustration.

Uriel sighed, “However, I can’t just let him die in vain or let you destroy the fucking human world…” he folded his arms, “I’ll help, on one condition.”

“I am listening.”

“You release me from the knife’s pact when you are able.”

“That was my plan, to begin with,” V’s mouth turned to a thin smile, “I don’t like the idea of owning another being; especially when they do not agree to it…”

Another small huff came from the devil as he stood with V for a moment.

“Uriel,” V’s voice was soft, even more so than normal, “I am sorry for how things turned out.”

“Don’t be,” Uriel gave him a flat insincere smile, “I should’ve expected things to turn out the way they did.”

A small ‘ehem’ caught both of their focus, it was from Griffon, “So, you gonna introduce us V or just act like we don’t exist?”

Before V could respond, Uriel squatted down by Griffon and gently ran his fingers along the bird’s navy feathers.

Griffon let out a low growling as he ruffled his feathers, “Oi! Stop that--”

“Why?” Uriel raised a brow as rested his icy fingers on the back of Griffon’s neck.

“Cause! I don’t like it!”

“Is that why you are purring?”

“I-”

Uriel laughed and stood back up, “I know who both of you are; my father helped create your original bodies.”

“Wait,” the bird’s body stiffened, “You’re dad?”

“Yes,” Uriel moved to squat by Shadow, placing a hand out for the cat to smell, “I know what you are thinking,” Shadow licked Uriel’s hand and allowed the devil to pet them, “However, Mundus is not my father. I rather hated that, entitled bastard…”

V laughed softly at seeing Shadow enjoying another’s touch. Uriel pet the black leopard for a while before both familiars returned to V’s tattoos.

“Now,” Uriel stood up and placed his palm out, “First things first, give me my knife.”

V grabbed the blade from his waist and placed it in Uriel’s hand.

The devil looked it over briefly before tucking the knife into the waistline of his pants, “So, V, what now?”

“We should head back to the van, there is another hunter that has been working with me and it is best that you meet him,” V began to walk back the way he came, Uriel following suit.

“Another hunter, huh? He got a name?”

“I think that it is best to let him introduce himself.”

“Alright,” Uriel sighed and looked at V who was slightly in front of him. Admittedly, Uriel wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch or hug the partial incarnation of the blue devil. The two walked in silence, allowing Uriel to mull over things; deciding if V was truly sorry and if he deserves forgiveness.

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Other parts on Tumblr: CHAPTER II

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