I've Come To Retrieve My Power
"You can't handle it."

hollow-dante:

              Dante wouldn’t have found it impressive at all that he so readily agreed to protect Nero. He was a child. So of course he would. Really, Vergil didn’t even need to ask. It was a given – common sense. Though when Vergil seemed to theorize outloud ‘who’ this “ghost” was, Dante only frowned slightly, looking a little bored by Vergil’s snobby demeanor. …Right, the previous house owner. Yeah, didn’t Vergil have his skeleton in one of the rooms? Very charming. That frown turned into a slight grimace at the mention of him in a suit. “Hell no. No way. I’m not gettin’ in no suit. Seems like y’oughta get a fuckin’ priest to come do his thing instead if it’s that bad.”

              “Do I have to worry about bein’ possessed? I’m into some kinky shit but I don’t want anything all up in me.” Could he even be possessed? Or Vergil for that matter? They weren’t exactly human. “Why would something like you even worry about something like that?”

He’d scratched that itch before, had seen the nephilim in a suit on a few separate occasions, so he didn’t press the issue. His lips did adorn that knowing smirk, though. “As comfortable as I am in a church, the occupants are never very comfortable around me. A holy man would never agree to come into my home, not a real one anyway.”

For a different reason, that smirk never left his mouth. Why, yes, Dante was into some kinky practises, but he was also into having something in him, if only he would try it. “You needn’t worry about possession. I, on the other hand–…Let’s just say…you do have that to worry about.” To convey the severity of the situation, his mouth had formed a hard line by the end of his statement.

"I’m always looking for powerful weapons, Dante…but my body is the most powerful weapon I own. Do not underestimate an opponent wearing my skin. You could never win against that. Do you understand?” It was important that Dante understood the reality of it. He was no match for…Nelo Angelo. Only as he was, Vergil had to worry about a triggered nephilim, because he could no longer trigger the devil within. As Nelo Angelo, he was in constant Devil Trigger mode, and, therefore, he was far more powerful than the younger half-breed had ever dreamt a demon could be. “Just run. And don’t you dare look back.”

(Source: ineedmorepower)

hollowvergil:

"I thought you'd be more useful to me. I was wrong."
itsbecauseiamalady:

Be Gone by chaulenba

itsbecauseiamalady:

Be Gone by chaulenba

hollow-dante:

              One of Dante’s dark brows was arched slightly as he listened to the other, not… entirely sure what the fuck he was talking about, but he listened nevertheless. Okay— don’t go trying to find the source of noises. Seemed simple enough, though Vergil was making him a little paranoid. The dude was bugged, Dante could tell, because Vergil had a certain way of talking… of just standing that he’d become familiar with. So something was up. “Wait, so… You’re sayin’… there’s a fucking ghost. In here. That… wants to do somethin’ to you?” Did he have his facts straight so far?
              Pale blues studied him silently for a moment. Tell him what he wants to hear. “I will.” He’d stay away from it and take care of Nero; wasn’t that Dante felt he should protect the kid, he just would because… well, he was a kid. Easy, and Dante wasn’t afraid of no damn ghost. “I’ve never seen a ghost before. Sounds kinda cool to me. So it’s like a… what’s it called—— poltergust? Polter—geist? The kind that’s supposed t’be able to hurt you or whatever.”

He would have snapped at him, grabbed him, shook him, and made him promise to do as he had instructed, but Dante had obviously heard him because he agreed. To be honest, Vergil hadn’t expected that. He was a little taken aback, and he may have been a bit impressed. It grabbed his attention. “It’s a…powerful spirit. It’s extremely powerful. It seems to be able to possess the living, so…”

No, no. Trying to keep himself distracted by Dante, he lied. “I suspect it’s Goldfinger. Apparently, he isn’t pleased with what I’ve done to his body. That’s too bad, though. This is my house now, so I have every right to decorate it as I please.” With his nose in the air, he put on the facade of an entitled aristocrat. Well, he always looked aristocratic. Slowly he relaxed, shoulders pulling back into their trained position. “Or maybe he’s tired of seeing someone like you wandering around his old house. I should put you in a suit and see if that satisfies the old buzzard.”

(Source: ineedmorepower)

hollow-dante:

              “Hell, I dunno, dude. For all I knew you bought this shit at Hobby Lobby. I didn’t know you did all this yourself.” He guessed that was impressive. There was some very detailed stitch-work he’d seen here and there in the manor. Dante was relatively talentless; all his clothes had holes. He definitely couldn’t sew but then again, he didn’t care that much to learn how.

             The reaction to his question had been… favorable. Ish. Weird, ‘cause Dante wasn’t sure if Vergil was just surprised he asked for a second there or if he just didn’t know how to answer. He decided not to press. Dante was making sure he treaded smartly, for once. Though the question of if he believed in ghosts came so far out of left field, it took him a minute to process it. “—Huh…? Uhhh… Yeah? I guess? I kill fuckin’ demons for a living. There’s not a whole lot of shit that surprises me. Why?”

Clearly, Vergil was uncomfortable. His own need for blissful ignorance aside, he knew that if he didn’t at least let it slip, maybe just a little, people’s lives would be in danger, including his own son. Uncharacteristically, he folded his arms over his chest, shoulders drawn inward instead of back in confidence. “If you hear something strange…don’t…” Don’t what? Play paranormal investigator like he did to cover up his little secret? “…explore it. Just…stay as far away from it as possible.” Oh, what was he doing? That lack of information was bound to cost lives. “If anything happens in this house…if anything happens to me, you have to protect Nero above all else.”

The price of that whisper of a moment of acceptance of his predicament was a whisper in his skull, barely a sigh that jerked those cool blue eyes to the side in search of something, anything but what he knew it was.

(Source: ineedmorepower)

hollow-dante:

              “—I didn’t lose my coat,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes when he was given that ‘look’. “I left it on the couch when I fell asleep, woke up and it’s fuckin’ gone. So you tell me where it went.” For all he knew, Vergil had a pet fucking goblin coat-thief in the house, but Dante wondered if little curious hands had gotten a-hold of it. Luckily there was nothing ‘bad’ in it. He took it upon himself to take a slight step inside instead of lingering at the doorway. “So you can… sew.” He watched what he was doing. Small-talk. Be nice to the fucker. Think— “You… alright?” God, what the fuck? “I mean— how are you?” Nailed it.

Assuming Dante just didn’t have the strength of pride to admit he had lost his coat, Vergil rolled his eyes out of view of the nephilim; it wasn’t the most mature thing he could have done. “Where do you think this coat came from? Every piece of gold thread in this house was stitched into place by me.” Everything from the curtains to the hand towels had detailed gold embellishments. It was a talent that was never meant to be hidden. Hell, he literally wore it on his sleeves.

When Dante questioned how he was, again, the cambion stiffened, actions halted. “I’m…I’m fine.” His brow furrowed, then relaxed. Then, he stuck the sewing needle into the cushion and stood, smoothing out the leather that had bunched up around his upper thighs. Finally, he raked his fingers through his hair and made eye contact. “Do you believe in ghosts, Dante?”

(Source: ineedmorepower)

itsbecauseiamalady:

Vergil from DevilMayCry by ulrica29

itsbecauseiamalady:

Vergil from DevilMayCry by ulrica29

hollow-dante:

              Oookay, so far so good. Dante saw Vergil as a very… prickly kind of guy. Depended on the day if the man felt like making him do fucked up ‘yard work’ or if he was gonna be tolerable. “Figures—” Dante didn’t prefer the cold. “It’s uh— I dunno. Not where I thought I left it.” He was starting to think it’d been drug off by a certain someone. “This what you do all day?” he asked, gesturing to the man’s task of… making that one chair look presentable.

"You lost your coat…" Looking over his shoulder, he scolded his guest with a raised brow and that painfully sharp gaze of his. Then, he tugged the needle pierced through his coat sleeve free to skillfully seal the old cushion inside its new case with gold thread. "I spend a lot of my time, when I’m not studying, restoring my home, yes." Practised fingers swiftly created a sturdy stitch that was also quite appealing to the eyes. "Most people take care of the things that are important to them."

(Source: ineedmorepower)

(Source: corrupted-vergil)

hollow-dante:

ineedmorepower:

Silence lingered around the busy cambion, aided by the thick layer of tension in the air surrounding him. Occasionally, though, he lifted his head, alerted by an unknown trigger, glanced around, and hesitantly resumed his work. There was definitely something off about him lately.

image

image

              Dante was making a very valiant attempt of relocating where he had left his coat. The Manor was slightly confusing, mostly because Dante wasn’t used to being in a house. He stopped in his trek however, when he saw Vergil lurking in one of the guestrooms doing—— something. Maybe he oughta avoid him… Nah, he was trying to make an effort of being something closely resembling friendliness. “Yo—” He rubbed his bare arms. “Shit, kinda nippy. I take it you dig the draft.”

The usually frigid devil, well, froze before turning his head to confirm the voice had come from a solid being rather than…the alternative. When he spotted Dante, he relaxed and resumed his task, which was fitting a new cover over an old cushion on the room’s only chair. “I do prefer the cold,” he confirmed. “Where is your coat?” Really, who endured the cold when it was easily remedied?

Silence lingered around the busy cambion, aided by the thick layer of tension in the air surrounding him. Occasionally, though, he lifted his head, alerted by an unknown trigger, glanced around, and hesitantly resumed his work. There was definitely something off about him lately.

itsbecauseiamalady:

Vergil beowulf by veggwhale

itsbecauseiamalady:

Vergil beowulf by veggwhale

itsbecauseiamalady:

Vergil and Nero by Allegro97

itsbecauseiamalady:

Vergil and Nero by Allegro97