[ 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: ]
[ 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?
[ 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.
[ He snorts, the eye roll practically audible over the sounds of magazines sliding free. Of course he expected that kind of reply, Vergil likely knows exactly what he means and is trying to avoid it.
[ Come now, Dante. Hadn't they already gone over this, and with Nero present? There can be no one in this world more reticent than your brother.
So Vergil is going to very pointedly finish reading the page he's on before responding. Just because he knows exactly what Dante means, it doesn't at all mean that he wants to address it.
[ He gives the bracelet a hard look for the first few moments of silence, only to roll his eyes again. He knows what Vergil is doing, too used to it regardless of how much time they've spent apart. What an ass.
By the time Vergil replies Dante has cleaned and resembled Ivory. ]
Have you. Talked to Nero. About being. His goddamn father.
[ Because honestly, what is he meant to say? It's clear that Nero grew up just fine without his father in his life; how is he meant to broach that topic? Is there even a need to? ]
It seems fairly straightforward. What is there to talk about?
[ Repetitive, yes, but true. He hasn't wondered about their father, hasn't any questions for him. Sparda is dead, and Vergil learned long ago that speculating helps no one. Least of all himself. ]
I'm not ignoring anything. Nero knows where I am. If he wants to talk about something, he need only say it. Considering how..expressive he is, I expect it will come with some yelling.
[ And then, a few minutes later, almost as an afterthought: ] Does it bother you, Dante?
[ That also surprises him as much as it doesn't. Though he has to wonder if Vergil would be singing the same tune if Sparda really did turn up on their doorstep. It isn't a thought he entertains for very long, their father isn't the subject of this conversation.
Nero's is. ]
Bother me? [ A snort then silence save for the sounds of Dante taking apart Ebony. ] No, Vergil, I'm not bothered at all.
[ A scoff, even if Dante can't hear it. Ah, the wonders of text. ]
Obviously. A foolish question.
[ He doesn't want to admit that maybe Dante has a point. It is...awkward being around and dealing with Nero, and Vergil still isn't certain if it's due to their familial ties or....
Well.
It's clear that Nero has no issue interacting with others. Vergil gently closes his book, sighs to himself. ]
What would you suggest, Dante? Were you in my position. These are hardly the ideal circumstances.
[ He'd ripped off Nero's arm. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Nero that it was a desperate act, but it still isn't quite something one simply apologizes for. ]
[ So might as well make the best of them, right? ]
I'd start with actually talking to him rather instead of waiting for him to come to you. [ That's not really an answer. ] Someone has to make the first move, might as well be you.
[ Dante can never know that Vergil is actually considering his words. He can never know. Talking to Nero would be the adult thing to do. The responsible thing.
While that may be true, he still has no idea how he would broach the topic. ]
Ridiculous. I don't see why that should be the case. If Nero has questions, he can ask them.
[ Because while Vergil may accept that he is a bastard and a terrible father, he also considers himself a man of honor. He won't lie to the boy. ]
[ Don't think he doesn't see you ignoring his question. If there is one thing that makes it apparent the three of them are related, even more than their hair and obviously demonic heritage, it is absolutely their stubbornness. And the understanding of that commonality between the three of them, despite the time and space separating them... It sends a strange sort of relief through him.
He does not like it.
Even more perplexing is how difficult he finds it to make any attempt to justify his actions to Dante. He'd told Nero plainly why he'd done it: he'd been dying, and he'd been desperate. It doesn't come quite so easily to say this time, however. ]
[ Yeah, yeah, he knows he's just as bad as Vergil and Nero, it's an unfortunate trait of the Sparda bloodline they all seem to share.
Thunk. Task finished Dante puts Ebony don't beside it's twin, gaze flicking to his wrist. He doesn't expect what appears next; reads it once, then a second time, and scoffs. ]
No time to wonder why this random kid has Yamato when your body is falling apart, huh?
[ He breathes out. ]
I'm not the one you have to justify your actions to, Vergil.
[ There's a quick flash of anger, typing before he's even done listening to Dante's message. ]
Would the alternative have been preferable?
[ Message gets sent, and immediately afterward—
Vergil pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Regrets are for fools, but.. Perhaps he shouldn't have sent that. There are benefits to using text for conversations, he's finding, and also some glaring drawbacks.
He takes a deep breath to calm himself. ]
I have no interest in justification. What's done is done. I'm simply trying to... explain.
A month ago he might have said yes, a month ago he been at some semblance of peace with Vergil's death, a month ago he didn't know that his brother survived. A long silence is broken by Dante breathing out heavily, running a hand through his hair. Ignore it, move on. ]
[ There is a long delay before the next message comes through, a bit too long for how succinct it is. ]
Desperation can cloud even the sharpest of minds. Even mine.
[ Truthfully, would it have made much of a difference had he known who Nero was at the time? Maybe, maybe not. Human lives have never interested him before. But perhaps he would have stopped to wonder why his sword had been in the boy's arm. Perhaps there might have been another way to retrieve it.
Would have, could have. The fact remains: what's done is done. ]
[ Too long. Dante absently counts the time in between with a tap of his foot against air. A part of him doesn't want to hear (read) this, they're beyond it now right? Like Vergil said, what's done is done. He only wants... He wants the kid to have the chance neither of them ever got. He wants Vergil to at least try while he still can.
They owe Nero that much. ]
Yeah, guess it can.
[ Dante exhales. ]
Look, the why and how doesn't really matter. Just... Try to talk to the kid sometime. You've got a chance here, don't be an idiot and let it slip you by.
[ He'd been dying. He'd been desperate. He'd even been accepting of his fate, of his death — if not for Dante, and the fact he hadn't bested his brother even once.
How ironic, then, to be given life advice by the one and same man. The chances he'll take that advice are slim to none, but the irony remains.
There's a mirroring sigh, and Vergil swipes a hand back through his hair. ]
And just where is all this boundless wisdom coming from, little brother?
[ In truth he isn't sure how he feels about knowing he is the reason Vergil hung together for as long as he did. Flattered? Annoyed? Maybe a little touched? Or some sort of combination of the three? He didn't give it much thought at the time; too busy with the fact his mad brother had come back again and once again Dante had to put him down. Now? Now it is just exhausting to think about.
Which is why he prefers not too.
Dante laughs, shaking his head, glancing at the bracelet from the curtain of his hair. ]
Years of experience, brother dear. Did a lot of growing up while you weren't around.
[ Among other things. ]
You don't give me enough credit, I'm not as stupid as you think I am.
[ Years of experience, brother dear. Did a lot of growing up while you weren't around.
It is nothing but the truth, and isn't that a disjointed feeling, deep in the center of his chest? He remembers being children and hating and adoring his brother in equal measure, as siblings are wont to do. He remembers being certain of their family's bond despite their oddities, idle moments spent wondering what the future held in store. The surety that no matter what, they would be able to face any challenge that opposed them.
He recalls the name Tony Redgrave, can almost picture Dante's face from when they'd met on Mallet Island, thinks on how old and worn his brother had looked when he'd darkened his doorstep as V.
He had been an idiot child, obviously. Dante had grown up, and he had nearly died. What a stupid, stupid child. ]
I don't recall calling you stupid, Dante.
Foolish, yes. Unmotivated. Base. But you aren't nearly as stupid as you let those around you believe.
[ Because there's no way he can say something kind about his brother without couching it in other unfortunate truths. ]
[ It's something that doesn't sit that comfortably on his shoulders, something that leaves him feeling heavy. So much happened while Vergil wasn't around, events that forced a gaping chasm between them. They had been closer, once upon a time, thick as thieves despite their disagreements. Dante loved his brother as much as he hated him, always finding his way back to Vergil's side in the end of the day. They had been strong on their own, but together? Together they had been unstoppable.
Sometimes he wonders what things would have been like if they hadn't grown apart. If Vergil hadn't fallen, if he hadn't been so tight in Mundus' grip when they found each other again on Mallet Island. Idle thoughts for the dark of night when demons aren't hounding his doorstep.
Not that he needs them much anymore with Vergil back and whole. Now they just have to figure out how to close the chasm between them, yeah? Ha, like that will happen. ]
Wait... [ Dante's feet hit the floor with a sudden thud, leathers shifting as he leans forward. ] Is that...? Did you just pay me a compliment? That's─ That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me Vergil, I think I might cry.
[ Never mind. Any qualms he may have had about regrets are null and void; he shouldn't have said anything even remotely kind about Dante. As if he needed any more reason for an inflated ego.
Still, despite himself, Vergil finds himself chuckling very quietly at that reaction. The sound of it honestly surprises him — when was the last time he'd genuinely found something funny? Surely not as V; those had been knowing laughs, saturated with the knowledge that he hadn't told Dante, Nero, or anyone else the entire truth of things at the beginning. He'd smirked atop the Qliphoth, but that was in the interest of showing his superiority.
What a pathetic thing, then, to be brought to laughter by one of Dante's stupid jokes. ]
You'll want to be careful. I hear devils have a tendency to do such things.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
very obstinately text;
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.
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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?
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Of course I have. He's primarily educated me on memes.
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Classic Sparda family trick. ]
Not what I mean, Vergil.
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So Vergil is going to very pointedly finish reading the page he's on before responding. Just because he knows exactly what Dante means, it doesn't at all mean that he wants to address it.
It may be a few more minutes. ]
Then you may have to elaborate.
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By the time Vergil replies Dante has cleaned and resembled Ivory. ]
Have you. Talked to Nero. About being. His goddamn father.
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[ Because honestly, what is he meant to say? It's clear that Nero grew up just fine without his father in his life; how is he meant to broach that topic? Is there even a need to? ]
It seems fairly straightforward. What is there to talk about?
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A lot, actually. Think about it, wouldn't there be things you'd want to ask Dad if he came back?
[ Dante, personally, has a list. A long list. Starting with 'where the hell were you?' ]
You can't just ignore it, Vergil. One day that whole thing is going to come to a head whether you like it or not.
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No.
[ Repetitive, yes, but true. He hasn't wondered about their father, hasn't any questions for him. Sparda is dead, and Vergil learned long ago that speculating helps no one. Least of all himself. ]
I'm not ignoring anything. Nero knows where I am. If he wants to talk about something, he need only say it. Considering how..expressive he is, I expect it will come with some yelling.
[ And then, a few minutes later, almost as an afterthought: ] Does it bother you, Dante?
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Nero's is. ]
Bother me? [ A snort then silence save for the sounds of Dante taking apart Ebony. ] No, Vergil, I'm not bothered at all.
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Obviously. A foolish question.
[ He doesn't want to admit that maybe Dante has a point. It is...awkward being around and dealing with Nero, and Vergil still isn't certain if it's due to their familial ties or....
Well.
It's clear that Nero has no issue interacting with others. Vergil gently closes his book, sighs to himself. ]
What would you suggest, Dante? Were you in my position. These are hardly the ideal circumstances.
[ He'd ripped off Nero's arm. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Nero that it was a desperate act, but it still isn't quite something one simply apologizes for. ]
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[ So might as well make the best of them, right? ]
I'd start with actually talking to him rather instead of waiting for him to come to you. [ That's not really an answer. ] Someone has to make the first move, might as well be you.
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While that may be true, he still has no idea how he would broach the topic. ]
Ridiculous. I don't see why that should be the case. If Nero has questions, he can ask them.
[ Because while Vergil may accept that he is a bastard and a terrible father, he also considers himself a man of honor. He won't lie to the boy. ]
Why does this bother you?
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[ It doesn't bother him. Stop asking.
He doesn't get a reply only a snort as he puts Ebony back together, slamming the magazine back into the chamber. ]
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[ Don't think he doesn't see you ignoring his question. If there is one thing that makes it apparent the three of them are related, even more than their hair and obviously demonic heritage, it is absolutely their stubbornness. And the understanding of that commonality between the three of them, despite the time and space separating them... It sends a strange sort of relief through him.
He does not like it.
Even more perplexing is how difficult he finds it to make any attempt to justify his actions to Dante. He'd told Nero plainly why he'd done it: he'd been dying, and he'd been desperate. It doesn't come quite so easily to say this time, however. ]
I hadn't known who he was at the time.
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[ Yeah, yeah, he knows he's just as bad as Vergil and Nero, it's an unfortunate trait of the Sparda bloodline they all seem to share.
Thunk. Task finished Dante puts Ebony don't beside it's twin, gaze flicking to his wrist. He doesn't expect what appears next; reads it once, then a second time, and scoffs. ]
No time to wonder why this random kid has Yamato when your body is falling apart, huh?
[ He breathes out. ]
I'm not the one you have to justify your actions to, Vergil.
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Would the alternative have been preferable?
[ Message gets sent, and immediately afterward—
Vergil pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Regrets are for fools, but.. Perhaps he shouldn't have sent that. There are benefits to using text for conversations, he's finding, and also some glaring drawbacks.
He takes a deep breath to calm himself. ]
I have no interest in justification. What's done is done. I'm simply trying to... explain.
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Yes.
No.
He doesn't know.
A month ago he might have said yes, a month ago he been at some semblance of peace with Vergil's death, a month ago he didn't know that his brother survived. A long silence is broken by Dante breathing out heavily, running a hand through his hair. Ignore it, move on. ]
Alright, explain away.
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Desperation can cloud even the sharpest of minds. Even mine.
[ Truthfully, would it have made much of a difference had he known who Nero was at the time? Maybe, maybe not. Human lives have never interested him before. But perhaps he would have stopped to wonder why his sword had been in the boy's arm. Perhaps there might have been another way to retrieve it.
Would have, could have. The fact remains: what's done is done. ]
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They owe Nero that much. ]
Yeah, guess it can.
[ Dante exhales. ]
Look, the why and how doesn't really matter. Just... Try to talk to the kid sometime. You've got a chance here, don't be an idiot and let it slip you by.
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How ironic, then, to be given life advice by the one and same man. The chances he'll take that advice are slim to none, but the irony remains.
There's a mirroring sigh, and Vergil swipes a hand back through his hair. ]
And just where is all this boundless wisdom coming from, little brother?
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Which is why he prefers not too.
Dante laughs, shaking his head, glancing at the bracelet from the curtain of his hair. ]
Years of experience, brother dear. Did a lot of growing up while you weren't around.
[ Among other things. ]
You don't give me enough credit, I'm not as stupid as you think I am.
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[ Years of experience, brother dear. Did a lot of growing up while you weren't around.
It is nothing but the truth, and isn't that a disjointed feeling, deep in the center of his chest? He remembers being children and hating and adoring his brother in equal measure, as siblings are wont to do. He remembers being certain of their family's bond despite their oddities, idle moments spent wondering what the future held in store. The surety that no matter what, they would be able to face any challenge that opposed them.
He recalls the name Tony Redgrave, can almost picture Dante's face from when they'd met on Mallet Island, thinks on how old and worn his brother had looked when he'd darkened his doorstep as V.
He had been an idiot child, obviously. Dante had grown up, and he had nearly died. What a stupid, stupid child. ]
I don't recall calling you stupid, Dante.
Foolish, yes. Unmotivated. Base. But you aren't nearly as stupid as you let those around you believe.
[ Because there's no way he can say something kind about his brother without couching it in other unfortunate truths. ]
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Sometimes he wonders what things would have been like if they hadn't grown apart. If Vergil hadn't fallen, if he hadn't been so tight in Mundus' grip when they found each other again on Mallet Island. Idle thoughts for the dark of night when demons aren't hounding his doorstep.
Not that he needs them much anymore with Vergil back and whole. Now they just have to figure out how to close the chasm between them, yeah? Ha, like that will happen. ]
Wait... [ Dante's feet hit the floor with a sudden thud, leathers shifting as he leans forward. ] Is that...? Did you just pay me a compliment? That's─ That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me Vergil, I think I might cry.
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Still, despite himself, Vergil finds himself chuckling very quietly at that reaction. The sound of it honestly surprises him — when was the last time he'd genuinely found something funny? Surely not as V; those had been knowing laughs, saturated with the knowledge that he hadn't told Dante, Nero, or anyone else the entire truth of things at the beginning. He'd smirked atop the Qliphoth, but that was in the interest of showing his superiority.
What a pathetic thing, then, to be brought to laughter by one of Dante's stupid jokes. ]
You'll want to be careful. I hear devils have a tendency to do such things.
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