Author's Note: This is just a series of very short ficlets I did for comment_fic on livejournal, where everything you write is supposed to fit in one comment. They're in no way connected to one another, and I can't guarantee I'll be adding on to this, considering I have a chapter of Highway to Hell about half finished and a million other things to do besides. But. Well. Figured I better archive this here, too. These were done recently, fyi.
Prompt: Shinedown; Sin With A Grin
"What the hell is wrong with you." It was spat where Dante hunched, one hand clapped over a slash across his shoulder; his left, thankfully, leaving his lead arm unscathed. Vergil was getting sloppy, and that was always a good sign. Blood ran down his fingers and pattered softly against the pavement, as the wound stitched itself together unnaturally fast, and he gave it a quick glance to check on its progress, before straightening.
The hand was dropped from the wound and wrapped around Rebellion's hilt, where it had stuck into the ground. "Seriously. What the hell is wrong with you? What has gone fundamentally wrong in your brain that makes you think this is remotely a good idea?"
Vergil was several feet away, the tip of Yamato coated red where it lay between them like a barrier, and it twitched in his hand, Dante's blood splattering from it to the brick wall behind him. "Now, now, Dante. There's no need for name calling." Despite the venomous sarcasm in the words, Vergil's expression didn't budge from the cold blankness it cloaked itself in. "I have no reason to explain myself to you, and you wouldn't understand, regardless."
That earned a growl that bared Dante's fangs. "Try me, asshole."
"Absolutely not." A corner of Vergil's mouth quirked upward, but it wasn't a smile. And it didn't reach his eyes. Very little in the way of emotion ever did. "I have no desire to break it down into baby words for you." With that, blue points of light flared into existance around him, before they formed themselves into ghostly, glowing swords. Dante gave Vergil a look, one that spoke volumes about the hurt and betrayal he felt, before Rebellion was pulled from the ground.
"Fine. Let's get this over with." He did give a grin then, and while it wasn't humored in any sense, it did reach his eyes, which were quickly more black and red than white and blue. "And when we're done and you're picking yourself up off the floor, we'll see who needs what in baby words."