Welcome and thank you for visiting this wacky world (and story) of mines.
I should warn some of you, this story won't have them romantically pouncing on one another until much later once their feelings develop. They are friends firstly, and then I can twist them to my evil whims to corrupt their minds :D.
I don't own Devil May Cry or the characters, but I did create this story!
Chapter 1
"Dante!"
A youthful face covered in smooth, alabaster skin held a soured expression looking over the stair banister, wincing after the sound of his own voice echoed in the office. Long legs clad in black leather rested on top of an antique, wooden desk, caring less to acknowledge his name.
Weary legs traveled on their own accord down the steps, eyes blinking several times to adjust themselves to the dimmed room. It took every ounce of his willpower to resist lying down on the withered couch, ignoring the beckoning allure of slumber.
Speaking of sleep-shattering calls, Nero struggled to sort through his jumbling thoughts, sifting through his groggy memory to recall a client's words.
Twenty minutes ago, he received a call from a female. He couldn't remember what the specifics of the conversation included, but her clipped tone claimed to pay any price to rid of the monsters accumulating near her house. Dante advised to never take a job without the password (keeping the chances of false jobs to a minimum) and he should have hung up, but some inner responsibility sensed this was no game she played.
When cerulean eyes glanced over to the half-devil resting by the antique, rotary telephone, a rise of indifference crept along his spine, knowing the bum listened to their chat. On many an occasion he witnessed the hybrid stomp his heel on the desk, watching the handle fly right into his hand. It was an effective maneuver when he didn't feel like reaching to answer it, so why did he forgo the gesture this time?
This bristled Nero's jittery nerves.
Nero jumped out of his sleep, disoriented from rising too quickly, almost stumbling face first down the steps to answer the phone's shrill ringing. After his wobbly stance and blurred vision cleared to see the half-demon let the loud object ring, he took it upon himself to collect the information. He neglected to respond to the pressing twitch in his foot to punt the older slayer's teeth in, deciding to go get ready.
Dante had other plans. Staying rooted in his chair to snooze the day away sounded much better, having his two associates butcher the demonic tourists overstaying their welcome. Nero handled the local jobs, which left the devil hunter time to relax while his minions did the majority of the work.
Though Dante didn't want to face physical harm by his two femme fatales for calling them minions, so he used the term 'associates' loosely.
"Dante!" Nero bellowed in front of the man, seeing a black boot twitch.
Jean-clad legs walked over to the side of the sleeping zombie, one human hand and the other fashioned out of blue taloned fingers and burgundy scales hoisted Dante's heavy feet up, intending to drop them on the floor. Dante responded by clenching his leg muscles to stop their rapid descent, placing them gently back on the desk.
Nero darkly hummed with his ignored presence, grabbing a magazine and rolling it up, aiming to pummel Dante with it. Midway on his destination a glove-covered hand caught his wrist, an iceberg blue eye opening to see the heated glare staring at him.
A voice full of throaty sleep spoke, barely moving his lips to make his query known. "Mind telling me why you're waking me up?"
The address she gave didn't sound locally close, so he had to find fast transportation. And Dante is his taxi driver. "Get up. I don't know where Blythe Valley is, and you're taking me there."
The other iceberg blue joined its twin, processing the teen's words. "I don't see why I have to-"
"You do and you are. I know you listened in, so stop acting surprised."
The man in the chair sighed, rolling his eyes at his younger counterpart's grouchy disposition. "Aw, come on kid. You're always taking the fun out of everything."
He removed his feet from the desk and stood, elongating his limbs to eliminate the kinks in his back. An odd taste settled in his mouth, smacking his lips to rid the sour flavor. Four hours ago, he and the teen slaughtered and executed their quarry, blood and bones yielding to their massive blades. Rebellion and Red Queen decimated their Hellish forms in relative ease, gaining a workout from the immense number in which they appeared.
However, the irregular mixture of the Hell family and those synthetic scarecrows hailing from Fortuna did not go without notice. The real ogres attacked the artificial race of demons, but turned their full attention to the two slayers. How they vacated the city of Fortuna when their numbers dwindled to nothing confused the duo. Maybe they missed crossing swords with the youngster and followed him here?
"Dante…" Nero started, trying to calm himself enough to speak with clarity. "I had to get my ass out of bed, run down the steps still half asleep, and answer the phone you sat inches away from! What fun am I taking out of anything if I have to deal with you?"
A sly smile graced his lips, thinking how easy the kid humored him with his lacking patience. "Exactly."
Nero primed to retort something sharp when Dante walked around his desk, grabbing his twin pistols Ebony and Ivory and holstering them in their desired places. He walked over to the side of the couch to retrieve Rebellion, donning his signature strides to the door to show the brat of his functioning body.
Dante enjoyed that nap, wished he could stay asleep a while longer but Nero would chew his ear off; the punk wasn't above doing something so annoying. Now awakened, his stomach growled in protest of going anywhere. Surely he couldn't perform his best when all his focus concentrated on stuffing his mouth with his favorite food.
Nero saw the elder's body stiffen, noticing the signs of someone needing to procrastinate. He intercepted the hybrid's goal, pulling his arm with his Devil Bringer through the front door. "That's gonna have to wait, old man. If you woke up when the phone first rang, you wouldn't feel hungry."
"The hell? I'll only be a sec, just grab a slice from the fridge–"
"We are late."
"And if I'm nauseous from not having anything-"
"Throw up out the side of the car."
Dante exaggerated a sigh. "You are evil, kid."
"Yeah, well I learned from the worst."
"What did I do to deserve this?"
"Remember what happened the last time I let you go eat and you told me the same thing?"
"Yup, I told your lazy ass to go walk to your job."
Nero's face settled into a blank canvas, recalling the events of that day. Some time ago, he made the young man walk about a good two miles and catch the train to his destination. It would have taken about five minutes by car to drop him off but Dante claimed the car needed rest, Nero nagging in vigor in response to his laziness.
In truth, he had no one to answer the phone if they left. Money rolled in, and he needed to ensure he received every penny. But since his associates had been in or around the area of the caller, the situation carried on to its end and he had free time to take the squirt wherever he wished.
Nero didn't understand this. As revenge, the brat came home with a fresh, crust-stuffed meat lovers' pizza and shared none of it with him.
"Fine, fine, let's go."
Outside rested Dante's red 1969 Copo Camaro, serving as their transportation for the week. Lady took her bike she sometimes left over there for quicker access to job destinations, and Trish claimed stake over his black Ducati.
Once inside the vehicle, the Camaro refused to start up, coming into contact with a horde of haphazard Hell prides with terrible scythe-swinging aim. That aim struck the reservoir tank for the anti-freeze, ensuring the car endured road problems. Sure, the outward appearance of the car sought replacement to near perfection, yet the machinations inside rattled with every other stop he made.
Money which should have gone towards bills barreled towards keeping the ravishing lady in red in top condition rather than his own office. Still, with Nero taking residence, the kid added minor furnishings to the place, much to Dante's delight and dismay.
The kitchen appliances, like the toaster and the microwave, made cooking a variety of foods easier, truly since Nero's the only one who used it. Only the little computer brought in by Nero, heavily convinced by Lady to get, got him into trouble because he smashed the thing in a fit of rage while the youngster fiddled with it.
Technological creations could not last long in his house because they found themselves broken from his abuse. He wondered how his jukebox stayed with him for so long; given its ill-treatment.
Each devil hunter placed their weapons in the spacious back seat, soon after placing their own backsides in the front seats. After a few kicks to the gas pedal, a couple of slaps to the steering wheel, and a few 'psyche' punches to Nero, the car emitted a gracious purr. Dante had to make it to the destination steady and fast before the car overheated.
He had no interest in reliving the embarrassing memory of sitting on the side of the road with smoke coming out from under the hood. With that thought in mind, he gave a playful smirk to Nero, who returned a glare, and sped down the street towards their destination.
A/N: And there you have it, your first chapter of these two knuckleheads venturing out on a mission...with each other...together. It can't be too hard to do right, dealing with each other of course. Let me know what you think!
P.S. We're pretty far along in the story, so don't be shy to leave or note or two in between chapters :D You can catch up when you want to!
P.S.S. I've gone back and updated all the chapters. It took a minute to do, but it was all worth it. Ciao!
P.S.S Until Capcom gives us a proper and thorough reason for Vergil having a kid, I am blatantly ignoring that canon. They had over 8 years to explain why Vergil, given his stoic and reserved personality traits, decided to boink some random and leaving nothing as to why he did so.
Lazy story-telling makes me cranky.