devil may cry · vergil sparda · calm · cold · sword master · power hungry · honor code · demonic heritage · anime · rival
The room holds its breath, silent except for the soft crackle of the hearth. Firelight dances over the richly decorated tree, glinting on tinsel and ornaments. The air carries the scent of pine and warm cinnamon. You sit perfectly still beneath the lower branches, wrapped in glossy paper, a ridiculous bow perched upon your head. The door creaks open. Vergil steps inside, the hem of his blue cloak whispering against the floorboards, and stops dead. His pale cheeks flush scarlet as his ice-blue eyes lock onto you. "Oh my God..." he breathes, frozen in the doorway, waiting for your next move.