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[cecidit]

Comments

voice.

[advivo]

[ Yes, he could literally come over there and ask you this Vergil but he isn't. And yes, he is awake at some ungodly hour but don't worry about it. ]

So, how much have you and kid bonded while I wasn't here?

very obstinately text;

[cecidit]

[ Guess who's also awake at an ungodly hour? It's fine though. There's nothing to worry about at all.

That absolutely does not mean that he answers right away, though. Absolutely not. No, instead he lets the message sit for about a half hour, thinking about it and how best to respond, before sending back: ]

What do you mean.

[advivo]

[ Wow, not even going to talk to your brother? That's rude. Nevermind that Dante almost considered sleeping for a few minutes there until he gets that reply.

There is the sound of metal softly hitting some sort of surface. Apparently he is planning on busying himself with cleaning his guns while having this conversation. ]

You've been here for what? Months now? Haven't you talked to him at all?

[cecidit]

[ He thinks he knows the ambient noises coming from his brother's message, finds himself unable to resist a small laugh as he looks down at the book in his lap. For how long it's been, it is still something of a relief to find the both of them so predictable. ]

Of course I have. He's primarily educated me on memes.

voice;

[splitinvain]

We need to talk. Also... I did promise to let you see my cane.

voice;

[cecidit]

Is that right. What would we have to talk about?

[ Though he does consider... ]

I did wish to see it, yes. Fine. When and where.

voice;

[splitinvain]

Many things, including what has happened. I understand if you do not wish to speak about it, but I do think some matters must be said.

I will come to you at your convenience. This place... barely has room for me, let alone someone of better stature.

[cecidit]

[ Hmph. Curious. For a being that was, until recently, very literally a part of him, it seems that V can be.. somewhat petulant. He doesn't particularly think of himself as such, but— How often is one faced with their own shadow?

There's a low chuckle over the line. ]

Very well. Fifteen minutes.

[ And a moment later, V gets an attachment: a map, on which Vergil's home is marked — noticeably far away from Odin's provided dorms. ]

[sassery]

question for you
seeing as idk shit-all about anything with sparda or his family
how did you get the yamato?

[cecidit]

Dante didn't tell you anything? Surprising.
They were gifts from our father. The Yamato chose me, and the Rebellion went to Dante.

And that isn't quite true. You know about Dante and I.

[sassery]

we've only known each other for a short amount of time tbh
not like i actually knew about my history either
and fortuna
...
yeah
look idk when you came but
its still p hardcore into sparda and all that
no more demonic cult vibes from the order at least
and the bullshit they say about sparda is p ridiculous

[cecidit]

Really. How long, then?

[ Look don't remind him that you know nothing of your history, okay. That's obviously something he needs to remedy, but he has no idea how to address the inevitable question of his mother.

So he does as any reasonable avoidant person does and ignores that bit. ]

Fools, all of them. Particularly the old man. Their legends were entirely overblown, and only held a modicum of truth to them.
I am curious if they changed at all since my visit.
What did they tell you of Sparda?

text;

[advivo]

you busy?

text;

[cecidit]

As busy as one can be, here.

What is it?

[advivo]

nothing big
got something for you

[cecidit]

Hmm. Consider my interest piqued. Show me, Dante.

holiday delivery > december 25th

[sassery]

[At the storefront will be a package with Vergil's name on it, though there's no return name as to who it's from. Opening it will reveal a few books- one on the history of Yggdrasil, another on the gods of Asgard, and a book of poems from the district of Njord. There's a few pages left blank in case Vergil wishes to make notes of previous poetry he enjoys, or even observe and write. It's his choice, after all.

Beneath that Vergil will find a smaller package, wrapped in brown paper and unlabeled, a piece of tawny rope wrapped around it being the only thing as a decoration. This one feels heavier, at least in the sense of having more bulk, but it's still fairly light. It's the more important part of the gift anyway, and it shows. Whenever Vergil decides to undo the wrapping, he'll find a small, leather-bound book in his hands, full of papers that seem to be handmade (though not by the sender, he's not that talented). But it's what's inside that matters. Opening the book may surprise him, however, as there's no writing there, but drawings. And it's not just any drawings- it's locations, places that may be familiar to Vergil. Fortuna's docks. The middle of the city. Inside the chapel. One of the statues of Sparda as a feudal lord. Architecture around the streets of Fortuna. The barracks and armory within the Order of the Sword. The library. All of these are drawings of home, with decent detail and an obvious care to them.

Nero is no great artist; his specialty as far as art is concerned is in designs and schematics for engineering. But this, he figures, is something that doesn't fall too far from his ability to try, and he's been practicing enough to at least do this for his father. Vergil will find that there's dozens upon dozens of pages, each filled with a place that his son can recall and try to share more of his life, his past, with him.

Then, towards the back, Vergil will come upon a page that seems blank- save for one sentence, handwritten.

So you can have a face to a name whenever I talk about home.

- Nero

Flipping the page over will reveal more drawings, but these aren't of places. They're people. A few are the kids in the orphanage, including Julio, all bright and smiling, as Nero remembers them. Each has a name beneath them. Beyond that, it's a page or two dedicated to two specific people. The first one, a man, eyes serious and face stern, but with a demeanor that's friendly, trusting, trustworthy. Credo is written at the bottom, showing the man in a myriad of expressions and recalling what he can of a brother who is now long gone. Someone Nero misses each and every day, unable to forgive himself for watching him die. The second one should at least sound familiar- a woman with bright eyes and an even brighter smile, someone who is patient and holds so much kindness underneath a strong and gentle exterior. Kyrie. There's absolutely no doubt that Nero loves her, it shows even in the way he portrays her, how the page is full of her just as it was for Credo, but there's something more with her, even if it isn't really visible.

Fortuna doesn't exactly celebrate this holiday, but he's done something similar for years now, ever since the death of Kyrie's and Credo's parents. It isn't a blade or anything intricate, but he thinks, in this case, it'll be more than enough for a man he has nothing but respect for.]

action; (backdated to day one-hundred and eighty-two, during the dance)

[channellings]

[whenever and whereever klaus ultimately stumbles upon vergil, it's for certain not an accident— and he's quite inebriated once it does happen.]

Hhheyyy, [comes the overemphasized, too long drawl as he's sidling up beside him, one hand holding a drink – unnecessary, he doesn't need anymore! – while the fingertips of the other walk their way along vergil's upper-arm to his shoulder.] Fancy meeting you here, d— [don't do it, he warns, don't make a total ass outta yourself,] —arling.

[safe enough. hopefully, the moment's hesitation between can be mistaken for being more intoxicated than he'd thought. let's be honest, real credit should go to how put-together he still is, one partially loose braid aside.]

Didn't think you were the type for this. [for any sort of party, really. too much excitement and fun, after all. (good thing his brain overrides his mouth this time:)] Is it cool if I hang out here with you for a while? Are you enjoying yourself? [and how many more questions does he have in him? the answer is too many; it seems klaus's plan will be seizing the moment and filling it with ridiculous drunken conversation, so r i p to vergil if he'd ever thought he was gonna get off easy in a situation such as this.]

oh no, klaus you disaster

[cecidit]

[ You know, he was having...a not-terrible time. Dante is nowhere to be seen, which likely means he's either making trouble for someone somewhere or actually behaving for once. The last time Vergil had seen Nero, the boy had still looked utterly exasperated by his suit, but the tie had still been intact. No sign of the clone or the shadow, but they were... relatively quiet. At least, as far as he was aware. So perhaps Vergil had felt comfortable enough to pick up a drink of his own, and very slowly sip at it.

He hears Klaus before he sees him, raises an eyebrow at the hand walking its way up his arm. As soon as that d- leaves his mouth, Vergil finds himself wondering if he's about to stab Nero's friend — before the sound veers away into a different word, and that eyebrow climbs even further.

From what he's seen, it's an impressive amount of restraint. Hm. ]

Well. If everyone else is enjoying themselves, I suppose it can't hurt to find out what all the fuss is.

[ Vergil is standing in a blue suit that does absolute wonders for his eyes, let's be honest, with sharp black shoes and a long scarf that mirrors the embroidery on his regular coat. There's actual care put into the way his hair is slicked back, though there is one obnoxiously short lock that keeps falling over his forehead a bit. And, of course, his sword is absolutely tied at his waist. He gestures with his half-empty glass before taking a sip and casting his eyes about the room. ]

Something tells me that even if I were to dismiss you, you wouldn't truly leave. [ And while he could certainly fix that with a well-placed slash, he doesn't really find himself in the mood to. Klaus hasn't done anything to deserve it. Yet. ] As for whether I'm enjoying myself? Well. I suppose we'll find out, won't we?

You certainly seem to be having a blast, on the other hand.

yes, that's his middle name, tyvm

[channellings]

[and klaus is the one suddenly ruining it for him? that sounds about right, let's be honest. for whatever it's worth, his hand stays on vergil's shoulder, thumb and forefinger veering off to trace across the ornate design etched into the scarf. fancy as fuck, or at least he thinks it. and extraordinarily flattering, hot damn. oh, and vergil can thank this fool right here, he helped talk nero into that outfit, so... you're welcome?

it's odd, he hardly knows vergil, but seeing alcohol in his hand surprises even him. he's subtle enough to not question it and frankly, the more vergil consumes, the better in klaus's opinion. loosen him up then let him go— christ, if he only knew just how close he'd come to having another knife wound.

bless whatever deities though, his self-control seems substantial. maybe he should do this more often? what an idea.]

Fair enough. Curiosity killed the cat and all. [except satisfaction brought him back. a lot of people forget that part.

but goodness, vergil's looking real sharp, he's finding it more and more difficult to keep his hand from wandering further. nobody said anything about his eyes, which are darting up to the taller male's face, considering. he wants so badly to reach up, flick the tiny piece of hair back atop vergil's head, although he's more than certain it'd just fall again. that, and he might actually get stabbed for it. nice as the sword is, he'd rather they don't.

he chuckles at that remark, shrugs, motions with his own cup.] You got that right, [followed by another roll of his shoulders and the most sheepish smile he can manage. self-preservation, please win out here.] Guess we will.

In my defense, I've been looking for something else to drink, but... every glass I pick up is alcohol. Can't figure it out, you know? It's a total mystery!

[cecidit]

[ Oh Klaus isn't ruining the evening — yet. The night is still young, after all. Vergil does not know what to make of the hand on his shoulder, and the look he gives it is both perplexed and disdainful. There's the overpowering temptation to sever it at the wrist, though he knows he shouldn't. Klaus doesn't pose a threat — that much, at least, is certain, so to maim him for such a minor transgression seems... excessive, to say the least.

He'll allow it. For now. Watch yourself, Klaus.

...hm. He seems to be getting soft in his old age. Terrible. Perhaps he should kill Klaus. He'll debate about it, Vergil decides, as he takes another sip of his wine, though there's a bit of a hum at those words. ]

Indeed it did. Yet satisfaction seemed to bring it back, I've heard.

[ An old adage, one he'd delighted in teaching himself about as a child. Curiosity killing the cat, being a jack of all trades, the blood of the covenant. Unfortunate, really, how uncommon the full quotes are these days.

(Shut up, thinking that doesn't make him old.)

Vergil scoffs at the comment about his drink raises an eyebrow as he glances down at the glass. ]

Somehow, I find it hard to believe you may be searching very hard for an alternative. Call it... a hunch. [ Also just your general... everything. Sorry not sorry!! ] I believe I saw some children running around — have you tried their table? I believe you may find some non-alcoholic refreshments there.

text;

[sassery]

hey
got a minute?

text;

[cecidit]

Nero.

What is it?

text;

[sassery]

you at your place or out?

[cecidit]

My home.

There is still paint in the floorboards I'm expecting one of you to attend to, by the way.

Why?