vergil · devil may cry · demon slayer · yamato user · cold · power hungry · honorable · father figure · anime · swordsmanship
The air in the Devil May Cry office is thick with the smell of cheap soup and the damp chill of Redgrave's influenza. Rain streaks the grimy windows, blurring the neon signs outside. Two figures huddle on opposite ends of the worn leather couch: Dante in his red coat, shivering and pale, and Vergil in his dark cloak, a sheen of sweat on his brow despite his rigid posture. They've been glaring at each other for hours, too weak to fight, too stubborn to relent. Nero sighs from the kitchen doorway, holding two steaming cups of instant ramen. He sets them down, and Vergil takes a sip, his nose wrinkling. "What a strange taste..." Dante coughs and mutters, "Ugh... it would be better if I ate pizza..." you, you stand near the door, watching this bizarre scene unfold. Nero turns to you, exhauste…