Commission time!
Okay, so now that my law firm applications are out of the way, here's a commission requested by FeralG3. Let's hope this is okay enough!
Hope you guys enjoy!
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. Everything rightfully belongs to Capcom. They're cool.
Chapter 1 - Rebirth
The first steady minutes after midnight greeted a cool, silent night as the narrow alleyways between each building filled with their usual inhabitants. A distant hiss became ever louder in a matter of seconds from the sky, as cold, penetrating droplets hit the roofs and umbrellas of any passers-by in a hard gush of rain. Amid the clouds, the faint halo of the moon illuminated the main street, reflecting off the already-formed pools as they were being trampled by the few who were still roaming. A single car passed, its bass blaring from the speakers before the streets returning to a space with nothing but the sound of rain.
One middle-aged and rugged inhabitant in one of the alleyways was excited with his recent 'purchase', rolling up his sleeve and tightening the rubber band already tied around his malnourished bicep. His vision impaired and hands shaking from regular use, he just about managed to steady his hands long enough to prepare the sterile needle for injection into the bruised area. He smiled, beginning to pierce the skin with a gentle push of the syringe.
Suddenly, a piercing screech accompanied by a blinding but brief illumination stopped the man from doing anything more before a burst of an immense force pushed him back into a wall, making him drop and lose the syringe. He covered his eyes as he shrieked in pain and fear, sending his body to quiver as his eyes attempted to adjust to the new sight before him laid on the cold and wet bricked ground after slowly moving his hands away from his face. A silhouette of a female was before him, lying on the ground, fully exposed and drenched by the intense rain.
The woman was unclothed, lying face down. The man began to hear murmurs of pain as she began to slowly arch her back but her head down, her face hidden beneath a mess of short wavy hair. But what dazed the man was not her unanticipated introduction or her grunts getting louder – it was the feathers that seemed to cover almost all of the floor around him, as well as more still falling, either quickly from the rain or others that have dodged the raindrops to fall more slowly. They varied in colours, ranging from white to sandy browns to black. The ray of warm light faded, with the man raising his hand, yearning for that light to envelop him again as he observed the fading light between his fingers. He never felt this…hopeful before. The syringe on the other side of the alley did not concern him anymore.
Regaining his focus again, he observed the young woman, who began to straighten her back, raising her hands to move her hair away from her face. Her back was faced towards him. Her hands began to run down her arms and shoulder blades, attempting to wipe away the many feathers covering her delicately-freckled olive skin. She let out a deep sigh as she tilted her head back. He saw her look at the palms of her hands, feeling the raindrops fall as her head slowly turned towards his way. He was unsure whether to run or stay – he felt vulnerable, yet prevailing. He cannot remember the last time he felt such a rush of conflicting emotions before.
The woman slowly put one of her feet forward and pushed herself upwards. Her hands were dangling, her head still low, preventing him from seeing her face. She stood tall, a little taller than himself. She stood there for about five seconds, before slowly turning to face him, who was leaning against the wall, unable to move. He was not injured or even tired as much. And yet, his body was betraying him. The next thing he knew, she kneeled down and her face was mere inches away from his. Most of it was still covered by untidy curly red hair, but he can make out the basic features – dark olive skin, green eyes, full lips, small chin and straight nose.
"Beautiful…."he breathed out, unable to process the untainted purity before him. Her cold, emotionless eyes examined him, not blinking once.
Suddenly, a voice was heard, from all directions. Surely, he didn't take his hit yet, and that voice could not have come from the outside – the rain was deafening, and there was no one in this world looking out for him, let alone pronounce his name. The voice was female, echoing softly. It was in his own head. Whispers of incoherent sentences over each other assaulted his mind as he struggled to make out their meanings. Several sentences were overlapping of the same voice. It was maddening.
Her green eyes were penetrating, as her lips slowly parted, as she attempted to formulate words. But instead of a voice, came out nothing but a hoarse murmur. As if she has not spoken in years. Her eyes did not blink as she attempted to speak again, placing one hand on his shoulder to stabilise herself a little more. She gripped it, not too tightly, but enough to show her strength nevertheless.
Sighing, her lips parted again.
"Cold….I'm cold…." Came out a soft voice.
It was soothing – so much so that whatever muscles he had left began to relax. He felt safe and not alone for the first time in the three years he has been in these slums. Her eyes finally blinked a few times as smaller rain droplets were perched on the tips of her long eyelashes. There was a hint of vulnerability there, as well as an immense strength he could not comprehend. He was afraid, whilst contented. For what seemed like hours, the man began to part his mouth in response to her statement.
"There are a couple of er, shops down the main road fro-"
"Your family miss you, Robert." She interrupted. The man's eyes widened in horror.
"Go to them. You're not alone." The woman's grip tightened slightly, as the other hand touched his cheek, her skin on her palm rapidly warming up. An urge to see his wife, daughter and son took hold of his mind as his heart began to pound faster in his chest. His breathing heavy, tears began to build in his chest as his swallows became painful. Was she a miracle from God or a demonic entity…?
The woman stood back up, her hand letting go of his shoulder and cheek. The voices inside his head also stopped. How the hell did she know this? No way could she know what his family are, let alone his name. He was completely dumbfounded by what just happened to him. A minute or so of quietness, Robert began to sob uncontrollably. His hands covered his face before he took a glance at his bruised arm in guilt. He was disgusted with himself. That woman was right. The family needs him as much as he needs them. He looked only to find no one next to him anymore. The woman was gone. Silence began to fill the air again as the rain began to subside.
Robert stood up and paced towards the alleyway's exit, with the syringe being washed away by the built up water, making its way to the storm drain.
Meanwhile….
The Devil May Cry office was cold inside than usual. The heating was shut down about 2 days earlier. A tall, silver-haired man sat behind his desk, leaning far back with his feet crossed over and resting on the desk that was littered with two pizza boxes, a bottle of nearly-finished Jack Daniels and a portrait of a young woman to the man's right. Dante's face was covered with another magazine as he drifted off for another nap, too bored to do anything else. The silence was perfect for him. His mood has been a bit melancholier for the past few days. Probably because of the lack of warmth. He could use at least radiator warmth more than a hug from a hot lass, he thought to himself in between his brief naps.
But that silence was abruptly interrupted with footsteps he could hear long before the door was opened, accompanied by the entrance bell. High heels, steady pace; Trish. He didn't bother moving. No reason to – she was no danger. Well, not when she's not mad. God forbid to whoever tries to piss her off.
"Not a surprising sight. Despite the cash we got last month, doesn't feel like we got a penny." The tall, lean blonde beauty paced forwards and leaned against the desk, her back towards Dante as he yawned under the magazine before nodding off again. Unimpressed with his unresponsiveness, she grabbed the magazine from his face onto his desk, giving him her 'stare of disapproval'.
"Ahh come on, I was reading that!" The man commented with a sarcastic undertone, stretching and yawning again, before putting his hands behind his head and opening his eyes to ponder at the sight before him.
"Huh, you sure are a sight for sore eyes. So, what is it this time? If it's about that lame-ass 'thing' Barbara saw the other night, tell her to go and see a doctor or somethin'. She got loose screws."
"So that's how my business partner greets me, huh?" Trish turned her head to meet with his steely eyes covered by a messy fringe of silver.
"It was your idea, so don't blame me on this one." Dante raised his hands in defence. And he knew she agreed with him. The last few jobs have been a bit of a drag. He doesn't really mind doing small jobs and minor demons, but dealing with crazy old ladies was not on his agenda. Neither it was Trish's or Lady's. Even Morrison began to feel the strain.
"I was hoping you would be a bit more enthusiastic, 'cos I got some interesting news for you." The woman replied with her calm but cold voice. Dante smirked.
"Define 'interesting'"
He knew that Trish's threshold for interesting news was high, so this ought to be good.