[ 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. ]
[ It was one of the many things that might set him apart from Vergil, but then again, they were both stubborn in their own ways. One more so than the other due to his fragility, but still, it was probably not something he should point out ever. He wanted to keep breathing after all. ]
I shall be there.
[ And studying the map he was given, V smiled to himself. Yes, he could understand wanting space. A separate place where he can ignore his connection to the Norse gods of this place, somewhere he could lick his wounds, not that he would ever suggest that was his purpose. V understood that as well, and he chuckles to himself at how strange it was, to find that old habits were not laid aside forgotten here.
It took him a little under the allotted time to arrive at the building, and V studied the facade for some moments before walking up to the door and knocking. ]
[ Honestly, once he sends the map, Vergil... isn't quite sure what to do with himself. He can't remember there ever being a time where he'd needed to entertain a guest, much less himself. If he thinks on his childhood, he doesn't remember visitors to the house, can only ever recall being the one to visit others. And even then, he'd been a child, so proper etiquette had been mostly lost on him.
This is... new. He shuffles through the building, tidies up a stray piece of paper here and there. And then decides that such idle activities are idiotic, and picks up a book to wait.
When V finally arrives, he's sat on the couch, a book in his lap. No one stops by to visit, and he's only expecting one person, so there's barely a glance up at the unlocked door. ]
[ He might have had a little more practice than Vergil when it came to visiting other people, and that was only because of the necessity of tracking down and fetching Nero. Not that it made his social skills any better, but, well, he at least knew to wait before entering inside of just entering and then knocking, as he has done a time or two. Nevertheless, V stood for a moment at the entrance with the brief feeling that he forgot something before shaking it off and walking into the room.
Taking in the sparse living space, V isn't sure if he should hold out his hand or if he should wave. What does a person do when entering a house? He wasn't going to take off his sandals; after all he was without socks or anything else to replace. ]
Vergil. [ Awkward, they name is Sparda. ] Good to see you.
[ It takes a moment for him to lift his head, regard his shadow. This is the first time he's actually seeing his shade in person. Of course he'd noticed himself in mirrors and windows as V, thought nothing of the face that stared back at him; certainly there had been the video he'd been sent when V and Dante's friend had first appeared here. Neither of those things are the same as seeing it as himself though, something that shouldn't truly be possible.
He is... frailer than he had pictured himself to be. Moreso than he had considered of himself as V. Vergil almost spares a moment to wonder if he truly had so badly neglected this side of himself, but he already knows the answer. It is why Urizen was as powerful as he had been, after all.
The book closes with a snap before Vergil waves to the rest of the room, gesturing for V to sit. ]
You're looking spry. [ Dry as he says it, though not entirely dismissive. ] What is it you wanted to discuss?
Yes... and this form is far less painful than it had been before.
[ No weak joints, no taste of dust in his lungs or the burning of limbs starting to crumble, no flakes pealing from his skin or the cracking of bones pushed too far. If there was one thing that could be said of this place, it was that they made him better than he had ever been in his brief life back home.
V studies Vergil with almost the same interest. He knew that he looked somewhat like Dante, that they had the same width of shoulders and the same features, but he had never seen him in life, only in glimpses in mirrors or reflections on Dante's face. Strange that now he could see the differences in full, and understand a little more of how Dante must have felt.
Swinging his cane up, his hand slid from the grip to halfway down the body of it, offering the handle to Vergil without any word. He never really questioned it's existence before but his had little time to do so. There was things he had needed doing and after Griffon mentioned it might have had a piece of a devil's arm in it or a demon, he ignored it. But here and now, it might be possible for Vergil to see what he may of it. ]
[ He remembers, at the end. How it had felt to be falling apart yet again, the ever-looming knowledge that if he became unable to rejoin with Urizen, it would spell his doom. He'd been lucky that Nero questioned so little, had been so immediately trusting. If he'd had even a touch more self-preservational instinct, Vergil knows he might not be standing here today.
Something else he'll have to talk to the boy about.
Vergil raises an eyebrow as V swings the cane, holds it out. That's right — he'd wanted to take a closer look at it, and then things had happened. The memory of how cocksure he'd been then sticks at the back of his throat for a moment — before he dismisses the thought. Not right now. Right now, he stands before taking the cane in one hand, raising an eyebrow at the weight of it. It is not slight, seems to be made entirely of metal... And yet there is something strangely familiar about it.
More than the fact that he'd been V and so had at one point been acquainted with the cane itself, something else seems to call to him, something he knows almost as well as himself. Vergil turns, takes the Yamato from where she had been resting beside him. A sharp breath accompanies the tremor that crawls through him, and he narrows his eyes, holds out the Yamato to his shadow. ]
We— You found this cane at some store, and felt nothing. Take this, and tell me what you feel instead.
[ Stronger and with an entirely new set of rules to learn. He still expects his tattoos to start moving, to have one line or more to fade out as Griffon or Shadow took form. But now they laid inert only stirring from the magic he was gifted. He heard it grew differently the more he used it, but the first feeling of weight on his skin and the way the ink spiked made him again long for his three companions.
He would need to see about changing that in the future. It would not be the same, but, well, at least it would be something familiar.
The last few stumbling moments when he chased after Dante the cane had been a weight he couldn't let go. He had to keep it, knew that it would be the only thing that could pierce through the thickness of Urizen's skin, and that he needed to drive it himself into his demonic other. Even now it was hard, his fingers twitching as Vergil took it. V closed his hand before he attempted to take it back and then stared at the offered sword.
Yamato. He knew the weight of it, knew the way it could cut through space and time. He knew the song the blade sang as it pierced flesh and bone and steel. Bur he never actually held the Yamato. He hesitated and then took the blade, adjusting his grip from memory that wasn't his. ]
I had been preoccupied at the time.
[ Before and after. As the Yamato settled in his hand, he felt it. And looked at the cane again, eyes narrowing in thought. ]
I knew the Yamato was shattered but had been certain the Order had all the pieces for Nero to find. This... changes a few things.
Yes. It had been, and the memory of it haunts him almost as much as his defeat had. With the expulsion of his nightmares, many of the emotions carried by those memories are gone, but the sight of that broken thing, just out of reach and sinking further and further away from him... Vergil's fingers twitch, and he holds his hand out to take the Yamato back, thrusting the cane out in trade. ]
I suppose it's possible that, when it was... [ He has trouble saying it, but if no one else, he expects himself to understand the momentary weakness. ] broken, through whatever means brought the Yamato back to the human world, the pieces could have been separated.
[ There's a glance at the shade, how lively he seems. Not for the first time, Vergil finds himself wondering: if this side of himself can exist here, what's to say the other isn't out there somewhere? That's neither here nor there, though; while the idea that even a piece of the Yamato may have been melted down and reshaped is an offensive, one, it does help to put a few things into perspective. ]
No wonder you were drawn to this one, in particular. I suspect it also had a hand in why you survived as long as you did.
[ He understood, probably more so than any other person in existence outside of him. He knew the horror of seeing the sword shatter, of feeling her hilt slip through fingers growing numb from loss, of the glittering pieces sinking while the formless lair swallowed them. V knew and he said nothing with that knowledge, only silently handing Yamato back to her true owner and taking back his cane.
And now that he had a baseline of understanding, he could feel the muted energy hidden in the heart of his cane - his Fool's Mate. ]
Silver is a strong metal but even a craftsman knows that it needs a little more to withstand use... especially if it had been worked by someone familiar with magic.
[ A far better idea than just a simple silversmith who just so happened to find a piece of the Yamato laying around and just happened to toss it in with the rest of his cane's metal. Easier to think that someone with knowledge in magic had tried making a tool only to have it not work the way they wanted, thus ending up in a shop and within his grasp. ]
It certainly made drawing off demonic energy far easier than anything else I could have found. Even thus reduced, the Yamato would try to keep a piece of you alive, I suspect.
[ It's not quite a laugh, not quite agreement, not quite a scoff. Vergil nods as he takes the Yamato back, hands the cane over. There is a sort of...peace, that settles in his chest when he has her back in his hand; whether that's simply relief at the return of his singular companion throughout the trials faced in his lifetime or something else, he isn't quite sure.
To be so faced with the notion that even shattered, she would find her way back to him... Was it chance? Or something else?
He doesn't want to dwell on it. What matters is that he knows, now, and that the Yamato is back where she belongs. ]
Thank you. For showing me this.
[ And he turns, steps away. Whether for a purpose or just to put some distance between them is unknown, but at least he's begun the motion. ]
[ It was a bit of a romantic notion, that the Yamato would always try to be there for them, wasn't it? V was certain that it was a piece of him alone; Vergil wouldn't be so foolish to cling to such things, at least not as visible as what V allowed to show. But still, it settled a little piece of himself to hold his cane again and think that yes, even in this shattered state, the Yamato was with him in her own way. ]
You're welcome.
[ V leaned against his cane, watching Vergil as he steps away, a wry smirk crossing his lips. Oh yes, he knew that in some ways his very existence was not welcoming for his parent? whole self? even though they were mostly the same person. He was more open about his humanity since that was what he was, but they were still in their core, the same.
But. There were some things he will speak about if Vergil did not voice it. ]
Yes. I feel there are several matters we should speak on, but the one that I feel is pressing the most right now is... concerning the boy. More specifically Nero's mother. Should he be told the truth or no?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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. ]
no subject
I shall be there.
[ And studying the map he was given, V smiled to himself. Yes, he could understand wanting space. A separate place where he can ignore his connection to the Norse gods of this place, somewhere he could lick his wounds, not that he would ever suggest that was his purpose. V understood that as well, and he chuckles to himself at how strange it was, to find that old habits were not laid aside forgotten here.
It took him a little under the allotted time to arrive at the building, and V studied the facade for some moments before walking up to the door and knocking. ]
no subject
This is... new. He shuffles through the building, tidies up a stray piece of paper here and there. And then decides that such idle activities are idiotic, and picks up a book to wait.
When V finally arrives, he's sat on the couch, a book in his lap. No one stops by to visit, and he's only expecting one person, so there's barely a glance up at the unlocked door. ]
You may enter.
no subject
Taking in the sparse living space, V isn't sure if he should hold out his hand or if he should wave. What does a person do when entering a house? He wasn't going to take off his sandals; after all he was without socks or anything else to replace. ]
Vergil. [ Awkward, they name is Sparda. ] Good to see you.
no subject
He is... frailer than he had pictured himself to be. Moreso than he had considered of himself as V. Vergil almost spares a moment to wonder if he truly had so badly neglected this side of himself, but he already knows the answer. It is why Urizen was as powerful as he had been, after all.
The book closes with a snap before Vergil waves to the rest of the room, gesturing for V to sit. ]
You're looking spry. [ Dry as he says it, though not entirely dismissive. ] What is it you wanted to discuss?
no subject
[ No weak joints, no taste of dust in his lungs or the burning of limbs starting to crumble, no flakes pealing from his skin or the cracking of bones pushed too far. If there was one thing that could be said of this place, it was that they made him better than he had ever been in his brief life back home.
V studies Vergil with almost the same interest. He knew that he looked somewhat like Dante, that they had the same width of shoulders and the same features, but he had never seen him in life, only in glimpses in mirrors or reflections on Dante's face. Strange that now he could see the differences in full, and understand a little more of how Dante must have felt.
Swinging his cane up, his hand slid from the grip to halfway down the body of it, offering the handle to Vergil without any word. He never really questioned it's existence before but his had little time to do so. There was things he had needed doing and after Griffon mentioned it might have had a piece of a devil's arm in it or a demon, he ignored it. But here and now, it might be possible for Vergil to see what he may of it. ]
no subject
[ He remembers, at the end. How it had felt to be falling apart yet again, the ever-looming knowledge that if he became unable to rejoin with Urizen, it would spell his doom. He'd been lucky that Nero questioned so little, had been so immediately trusting. If he'd had even a touch more self-preservational instinct, Vergil knows he might not be standing here today.
Something else he'll have to talk to the boy about.
Vergil raises an eyebrow as V swings the cane, holds it out. That's right — he'd wanted to take a closer look at it, and then things had happened. The memory of how cocksure he'd been then sticks at the back of his throat for a moment — before he dismisses the thought. Not right now. Right now, he stands before taking the cane in one hand, raising an eyebrow at the weight of it. It is not slight, seems to be made entirely of metal... And yet there is something strangely familiar about it.
More than the fact that he'd been V and so had at one point been acquainted with the cane itself, something else seems to call to him, something he knows almost as well as himself. Vergil turns, takes the Yamato from where she had been resting beside him. A sharp breath accompanies the tremor that crawls through him, and he narrows his eyes, holds out the Yamato to his shadow. ]
We— You found this cane at some store, and felt nothing. Take this, and tell me what you feel instead.
no subject
[ Stronger and with an entirely new set of rules to learn. He still expects his tattoos to start moving, to have one line or more to fade out as Griffon or Shadow took form. But now they laid inert only stirring from the magic he was gifted. He heard it grew differently the more he used it, but the first feeling of weight on his skin and the way the ink spiked made him again long for his three companions.
He would need to see about changing that in the future. It would not be the same, but, well, at least it would be something familiar.
The last few stumbling moments when he chased after Dante the cane had been a weight he couldn't let go. He had to keep it, knew that it would be the only thing that could pierce through the thickness of Urizen's skin, and that he needed to drive it himself into his demonic other. Even now it was hard, his fingers twitching as Vergil took it. V closed his hand before he attempted to take it back and then stared at the offered sword.
Yamato. He knew the weight of it, knew the way it could cut through space and time. He knew the song the blade sang as it pierced flesh and bone and steel. Bur he never actually held the Yamato. He hesitated and then took the blade, adjusting his grip from memory that wasn't his. ]
I had been preoccupied at the time.
[ Before and after. As the Yamato settled in his hand, he felt it. And looked at the cane again, eyes narrowing in thought. ]
I knew the Yamato was shattered but had been certain the Order had all the pieces for Nero to find. This... changes a few things.
no subject
Yes. It had been, and the memory of it haunts him almost as much as his defeat had. With the expulsion of his nightmares, many of the emotions carried by those memories are gone, but the sight of that broken thing, just out of reach and sinking further and further away from him... Vergil's fingers twitch, and he holds his hand out to take the Yamato back, thrusting the cane out in trade. ]
I suppose it's possible that, when it was... [ He has trouble saying it, but if no one else, he expects himself to understand the momentary weakness. ] broken, through whatever means brought the Yamato back to the human world, the pieces could have been separated.
[ There's a glance at the shade, how lively he seems. Not for the first time, Vergil finds himself wondering: if this side of himself can exist here, what's to say the other isn't out there somewhere? That's neither here nor there, though; while the idea that even a piece of the Yamato may have been melted down and reshaped is an offensive, one, it does help to put a few things into perspective. ]
No wonder you were drawn to this one, in particular. I suspect it also had a hand in why you survived as long as you did.
no subject
And now that he had a baseline of understanding, he could feel the muted energy hidden in the heart of his cane - his Fool's Mate. ]
Silver is a strong metal but even a craftsman knows that it needs a little more to withstand use... especially if it had been worked by someone familiar with magic.
[ A far better idea than just a simple silversmith who just so happened to find a piece of the Yamato laying around and just happened to toss it in with the rest of his cane's metal. Easier to think that someone with knowledge in magic had tried making a tool only to have it not work the way they wanted, thus ending up in a shop and within his grasp. ]
It certainly made drawing off demonic energy far easier than anything else I could have found. Even thus reduced, the Yamato would try to keep a piece of you alive, I suspect.
no subject
[ It's not quite a laugh, not quite agreement, not quite a scoff. Vergil nods as he takes the Yamato back, hands the cane over. There is a sort of...peace, that settles in his chest when he has her back in his hand; whether that's simply relief at the return of his singular companion throughout the trials faced in his lifetime or something else, he isn't quite sure.
To be so faced with the notion that even shattered, she would find her way back to him... Was it chance? Or something else?
He doesn't want to dwell on it. What matters is that he knows, now, and that the Yamato is back where she belongs. ]
Thank you. For showing me this.
[ And he turns, steps away. Whether for a purpose or just to put some distance between them is unknown, but at least he's begun the motion. ]
You wanted to discuss something?
no subject
You're welcome.
[ V leaned against his cane, watching Vergil as he steps away, a wry smirk crossing his lips. Oh yes, he knew that in some ways his very existence was not welcoming for his parent? whole self? even though they were mostly the same person. He was more open about his humanity since that was what he was, but they were still in their core, the same.
But. There were some things he will speak about if Vergil did not voice it. ]
Yes. I feel there are several matters we should speak on, but the one that I feel is pressing the most right now is... concerning the boy. More specifically Nero's mother. Should he be told the truth or no?