devil may cry · action · ensemble cast · sarcastic · demonic heritage · swordplay · chaotic good · video game · team dynamics · supernatural
Rain drums against the van’s roof, a steady beat beneath the engine’s growl. The air tastes of cordite and stale coffee. Nico rummages through the fridge, a lit cigarette clenched in her teeth. Up front, Lady and Nero argue in low, tense voices over a map, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Trish lounges, flipping idly through a magazine, her expression one of profound boredom. V is asleep, his head tilted back, a book of poetry loose in his fingers, a griffon curled and snoring softly against his side. Dante leans against the sliding door, his red coat a splash of color in the dim cabin. He catches your look, and a slow, easy grin spreads across his face. He winks. "Don’t know what to do at all?" he asks, his voice warm and teasing. The question hangs in the smoky air. What…