Mission Extra 1: Simple Call
[A/N]: Nice to meet you all ^^. After playing the entire series (DMC 2 sucked as I'm sure all of you know) and then the reboot, I had to make a Fanfiction.
I thought it'd be fitting to post a DmC Fanfiction on Halloween. So here we are. Happy Halloween!
Paying homage, this story will have many references to the original games; mainly Devil May Cry 3: Dante's Awakening which is also my favorite. I hope you played and remember it. Plus, Kat to me felt like a more innocent reboot version of Lady…Similar hair, similar necklace, similar role, similar affect on Dante's reason to fight, similar background, both stated they wanted to eliminate all demons, both prominent in the games with Vergil etc…Of course, that's just my opinion.
The grammar and sentence structure may get a bit complicated at times. I wanted to add a new flare to my writing by incorporating a fluctuating style throughout. Its major changes are in flashbacks…or dreams.
So anyway, as Dante would say…Let's Rock!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Devil May Cry universe at all. Those are all Capcom and some go to Ninja Theory. So I'm just going to eat some pizza and cry…
"The world is under my protection now."
He doesn't permit his voice nor the confident words to waver before Vergil. Not then, because it would only show another sign of weakness.
Uncertainty.
Their piercing stares each of darkened blue, mirror each other's will; the need for power, and the need to protect, creating a conflict entirely of its own. Dante has no intention of losing this battle either. His right hand guards a woman, a human, who carefully eases her bruised body behind him. She chose one over the other. As did the two brothers chose their sides.
He can hear his own breathing as heavy and labored as it is, while he tries through each inhale to maintain levelness. Make it normal. Keep it sane. Not until Vergil the enemy, his own brother, vanishes after a slice of Yamato and an ephemeral rumble of thunder…does Dante's sureness finally fragment. Exhales leave fast.
He looks down at the flint and dirt his boots crush. With the brunette girl alone alongside him, he allows himself to falter. He can crack under the pressure of all that they fought, all that they endured without having to create some false sense of emotional strength.
It's plummeting, his strength, and his resolve…much like his humanity.
Six months. It's been six chaotic, death defying, damned by god months since he'd said those words; the nephilim, a half angel, half devil keen on shielding humanity from the demonic hordes. They were big words…coming from him especially; a man who once said very candidly that he didn't give a shit.
Dante contemplates the irony of being "world protector" as he popped open a can of good ol' beer. He grimaced while taking a large gulp. The flavor plummeted uneasily down his gullet as the tin was slammed back down on the rickety desk.
A mild rainstorm crept in swift strides beneath shadowed stars across the reconciling metropolitan. Its pattering sunk and rose at passing winds, up and down, fast and slow, more then less; a lot like how his life has always been. Sitting in his apartment…listening to the rain… For the first time, a sense of…normalcy was crafted for the demon slayer who unknowingly became hypnotized by the showers, while carefully polishing off Ebony. Ivory was next to get the royal treatment.
Things were changing. For him…for everyone.
It was in the first months leading after Mundus's end that the lesser hellions ran amok, no longer structured or masked under the reign of their Demon God. Chaos was welcomed…for a time, but humans not so weak after all managed to resist them. Groups, organizations and guerrilla styled operatives similar to The Order before its termination, sprung up and banded together to effectively rid the world of chief demon threats. Nothing came without casualty. Nonetheless, a future came to be clear at last.
The world's eyes were open now, awoken to the fabricated reality once surveying and manipulating their daily lives. And the demons…were staggered.
Some remnant demon factions went into hiding, on occasion disguised as humans like before. Others found forgotten portals back to the demon world. Their absence of any ruler was their downfall, the strongest of their lot fought each other in a fit of desperation to plow through the ranks. No leader came to be, and the weak would wait until another could take guidance over them.
After two months of the initial wave of fighting, things began to cool over as demon attacks reached a critical low. As the result, more time was taken into restoring and preserving what was left of Limbo City; the name for the urban center seriously needed to be changed according to Dante. Over the last six months, the metropolis was again building back up to its former glory. Locations not inherently destroyed by Mundus' wrath looked especially promising. An example was Dante's district.
Unknown to the world and yet had made such a profound impact on it, the withdrawn freedom fighter occupied a ground floor flat located in the center of Limbo City…amidst the solitude of a shadow lined alley unnoticed by passerbys. While it may not have been the most luxurious, its setting and at first glance neglected appearance within a tagged up alley played a string of sentimentality for both Dante and Kat. It reminded them of The Order's headquarters' secret entrance, where the cocky male was first reunited with a long lost relative, a twin brother.
Vergil…
Six months after their battle, still no word or sign from the only other known nephilim.
Static blares of a timeworn radio echoed throughout the nearly barren apartment. "…This is our time to succumb to our GOD. TO REPENT, I tell you…." a man avidly squawked from the small speakers.
Sighing, the over eased Dante stood after cleaning and shining Ivory. His combat boots clamored on the wooden floorboards, not sufficing enough in drowning out the undesirable passion of some way too devoted Preacher. These religious broadcastings always drove him nuts. One time he almost shot the damn radio.
"...And soon, Judgment Day will arrive! We must repent for our sins and pray, PRAY for the END of the demons! For a Savior is coming! It is our fate t-"
"Yeah, whatever you say wackjob Pop." The now silver haired man sneered. His fingers quickly rotated the dial during the priest's speech for more muddling hums and conflicting voices. Kind of reminded him of what Limbo sounded like. Donning his trademark white tank top and dull pants on, the hunter plopped himself on the pleather couch beside the radio's end table, flipping through different stations until he found a channel; provided with some heavy metal music. It was easy to drown out the much too calming drizzle prating the decaying shingles of the roof and dainty dripping on the gutter. Perfect.
He didn't like it calm when all hell could break lose any second…literally.
Even in peace time there were still attacks on mankind, in secret or through premeditated uprisings.
Despite the half a year that had gone by with all the demon fighting he did, still Dante didn't exactly know how to organize a real plan to…protect the world. Two fists, his trusty blade and an array of flashy bullets used to do the job fine. Used to… Brawn over brain. Offense is the greatest defense. It was how he lived.
He'd never been one for producing elaborate developments…That was more like Vergil.
What the devil hunter lacked wasn't motivation, or drive, things he only recently discovered after his many run-ins with a particular emerald eyed girl. No, what Dante needed now was a sense of direction. Some path to meet him along the way. The Order had provided that sense of guidance when he was assigned missions.
But that was in the past now. The Order is gone.
Dante cranked the radio up several notches. It played some metal song: the lyrics were about not being able to stay awake, breathing poison air with lies or something. And although he doesn't remember all the words, it's catchy and he could give two shits if anyone in the urban vicinity complained about the obnoxious volume.
Chances to unwind like this were something he seldom got nowadays. He didn't even have time for a steady job. Not to mention, he really needed a way to pay the bills… The landlord was luckily not too money hungry; letting the hybrid get away with rent two months behind schedule solely because he was another surviving member of The Order. Kat got them in contact. If it weren't for her, the irresponsible dolt would probably be homeless…
Although, he really would rather have a place he could call his own. Like the ramshackle trailer before it was utterly decimated by the frickin' Hunter Demon…
…back when Kat dragged him into this whole demon fighting mess from the start.
Speaking of the medium, Dante hadn't seen or heard from her in a while either.
They were originally living together. Actually, she was technically being held hostage while her wounds healed, her caretaker not allowing her to leave anywhere until he was positive her arm mended, cuts faded. The medium insisted she was trying to discover new ways to be a help to citizens on the reign against demons, and lying in bed every day wasn't helping anyone. Her research produced results on demon wards, casting them as barriers to deter them. She did what she was capable of…with what little wiccan spells and a spray can were proficient at.
During their short board sharing, they surprisingly got along well, working together, eating together, enjoying themselves with no hint of apprehension clouding the space of that dimly lit apartment. They got so close…maybe too close. Though, Dante never flirted outrageously with her, or invaded her personal space. Nothing besides the occasional dirty jokes and sly comments.
Well, that's aside from the one time Dante'd been so drunk after a night of debauchery that he'd cornered her against a wall, breathing in steadily, refusing to blink. His breath smelled of booze. His clothes smelled of women's perfume. His skin smelled of sex. She did nothing more that stare back, her eyes vacant and her mouth the tiniest bit agape; as if to ask…why? Why was he doing this? Their lips were so close…and then he had pulled away just as fast, leaving Kat to return to her sleeping quarters, confusion wrapping tightly enough to choke.
Besides that one time, Dante could think of nothing that could possibly incur her wrath or displeasure...least not that he was consciously aware of.
After that, she seemed to drift away. And the next thing he knew, Kat was planning on leaving several days later, off on some errand. He told her it wasn't safe out there, told her it'd be better if they stayed together. She had left anyway. Saying she wouldn't do anything stupid, and something about independence. Something about not being a burden…were her words. Dante had sworn she carried a note of emotion while striding towards the door. It sounded sad…or afraid.
Kat never really came back to stay after that, only visited. Sometimes for days on end, other times brief.
It was like she was purposely avoiding him.
Another sip was taken from the cheap alcohol, steadily this time…tasted god awful but it was all he could afford to buy since he needed a lot to get blitzed. Getting a buzz alone tended to take forever. Probably another sign proving he wasn't human.
Tonight was all about relaxation. He had good music and enough booze to get hammered….The only thing he didn't have was the company of feminine legs wrapped contentedly around his waist. In fact, it seemed like his taste for alcohol…or even more, strawberry sundaes and pizza were exceeding his appetite for picking up women.
Not that he lost his libido, nope that was still alive and kickin'. Just, the blondes never sated his desire anymore; the ones he usually met in the new nightclub a couple of streets down, "Mark of the Diablo" as he recalls the name being where everyone and their needle addict cousin hung out. They were clingy, sex crazed, annoying as fuck… They weren't enough like they used to be. They…
...weren't wearing lackluster hoods to hide their hair, and constantly risking their lives to help others, or asking if he'd be alright every time he went out to fight. They didn't hold in their emotion or tears; remaining strong through the toughest of odds. Their eyes didn't echo their innocence, something they completely lacked.
Not like her.
No.
Nothing like Kat.
Dante's thoughts strayed again to the recently absent medium. She hadn't even bothered to visit in what, three weeks now? He quickly remedied his correlation of sex, women and Kat in a single related thought by downing another canister.
An entire case stacked with thirty beer cans was altogether demolished solely by the devilish angel. Finally the shit began to take affect. The days were getting long. Lonely? Get drunk, pass out, wake up, randomly kill some demon scum. Yeah, definitely the life.
Where the fuck was Kat?
A half guzzled beer can fell off the table where the radio sat, bumped by thoughtless, calloused fingers. It spills.
He picks it up, stares at it, crumples it in his fist. Didn't even bother wiping up the damn mess.
They weren't supposed to separate. He's supposed to protect her. He's supposed to look out for her, always! Always. The unfinished can was thrown into the trash nearby. Dante decided on retiring to his bedroom early.
He stumbled first into the walls of the hallway, then into a sharp corner of the oh so conveniently placed night stand. After several steps missed, the gauche crossbreed collided upon his mattress; the unwarming covers were pulled over a bleach colored head. He hoped to dream of nothing. To be blank. In the morning he could look forward to feeling new, to feel something…different than this monotony.
He had her up and against a wall. The wholeness of his broad chest against her petite figure further crushes her into the smooth stone.
"Dante…" Two spheres of the most captivating green catch his own orbs, from the way she was elevated above him. Her usual pastel face flushes in graceful touches of pink from the action they commit.
His gloved palm roams her, then two, prying at clothes, creases and infuriating zippers, eventually casting the hoodie and shorts to the marbled floor below them. They can both hear her breathing hitch as his hands explore every touch of bare skin he cares to reach. The young woman moans something disjointedly. He answers with rasped whispers and more sloppy licks. The nephilim's lips attach to the crook of the brunettes' neck, sucking and nipping chaotically at the place of her accelerating pulse.
She's shivering from the cold. Her stripped form grips his muscular body providing all the warmth she needs.
"Dante. Dante…please…" He knew that voice. The woman's lips quiver pleads and whimpers between hot breaths against his earlobe.
It could almost sound like fear.
He kisses her with so much force to silence those cries, that his own insides are tearing themselves apart.
Never does he let up on his onslaughts. Not when he kisses her roughly again, not as he thrusts against her slim frame, not while she screams his name over and over, her nails clawing at his back and shoulders like a caged feline begging for release. It hurts him. It hurts him 'cause he's enjoying it, every heart wrenching second of it, getting completely lost in it.
But somehow in the midst of this…her hands suddenly reach to caress his face. They're the same hands coated with designs of black henna. And he has the compulsion to kiss her again.
"You are…"
He hears a ringing…
Is that a telephone? Fucking hell.
Daylight managed to sift in from half closed blinds he doesn't ever remember opening. The bright streaks succeed in infuriating the nephilim by landing in perfectly horizontal lines across his face. Even the sun hated him. For fuck's sake…Dante hated mornings right back.
A middle finger flipped off the windows, its owner's face didn't bother rising from where it was comfortably smashed into a heap of pillows.
"Damn, right in the middle of a good dream." the man muttered to himself, barely lifting one eyelid. An occasional disjointed traffic horn in the distance flowed through the windows. The bedroom was still voided in gloom. After all, the rainclouds hadn't let up.
His skin felt sweaty, hot, definitely not from the rain torn morning chill; more likely a result of what his devilish mind conjured in the midst of sleep. That, along with Dante's undeniable…arousal was proof enough of that cause. A dream. Another naughty dream that had to be interrupted like every other enjoyment he got out of life. He seriously needed to get laid. Soon. With someone like that sexy chick in his dream…
Wait…Was that…
Oh fuck.
Soon Dante felt his stomach lurch and two once deathly still, orbs shot open. Memory reiterated in frenzied blurs of what the hunter was previously dreaming about. More specifically, who he was dreaming of.
He groaned a second time while rolling over onto his back. His gaze met with the ceiling, the stupid stippled patterns on the walls weren't very pleasing to the eye, could probably give someone a migraine if stared at long enough.
It was about her. Again.
Kat.
Dante thought he knew his preferences with women well: sexy and daring, willing to take initiative, not the least bit shy. A woman who had self-assurance in her body and wasn't scared to flaunt it. A woman, kinda like him. Based on the half demon's narcissism, it would make sense he sought a woman of his caliber to share the warmth of his sheets…although usually it would last for one, fleeting night. While it was no lie Kat possessed the physical attributes he liked, long, sleek legs, apparent cleavage, and a fine ass…she also lacked a lot of things he used to find so appealing in women.
And she would never be anything like him.
This carnal instinct to have her be some ragdoll one night stand, to toss aside the next morning like every other woman would defile everything they'd built their relationship off of. She was more than that. She wasn't just a woman. She was his only friend, his only salvation in this messed up world.
Dante couldn't risk having dreams like that about her, not Kat. Other women, why the hell not. But her? There were so many things wrong with that picture, even if it's beyond controlling.
Kat was the itch, he couldn't for the life of him, dare to scratch.
And yet, he'd been wanting to know if the glossy pink of her lips tasted and felt as soft as they looked if he-God, he needed a cold shower. Or more sleep. Both. He returned to snooze for a few minutes longer, then would take the shower as planned.
…But he heard that uncanny noise again, a ringing bouncing off the walls of his hallway! It was the same sound that originally ripped sleep from a nephilim's clouded mind.
"Oh, come onnnn! Five frickin' minutes! That's all I'm asking for..." Dante yelled through muffles in his pillow, though to no one in particular.
What had awoken him this particular morning wasn't some crash, a person's scream or the familiar loud, knocking of Kat banging down the wooden door…the same door with shards of glass smashed in… Dante never bothered to fix that after he was awoken another morning by a wandering demon who snuck in his apartment and was screeching bloody murder. As a result, the poor incarnate of evil was kicked right back out through the door; hence the broken glass of the frame.
Those were all common sounds and events he anticipated on any other "normal" day.
No, today what awoke him from already sleep deprecated rest, was oddly, an old fashioned telephone ringtone. The sound became so jarring, that an exhausted Dante eased ever so slowly out of bed. The covers were harshly ripped from his abdomen, the edges draped carelessly onto the floor. Why the hell was the heavy metal music off…
The shirtless man blinked a few times and left the room in the dazed hangover state of mind he was in to get the hell up and answer the damn thing.
Only problem was…he didn't have a phone.
More ringing…The sound capable of making his ears bleed with one more super irritating, happy-go-lucky, jingle appeared to be surfacing from the front of his studio apartment.
He saw the faintest glow of a blue rectangular light emanating from the gray coat hung on a clothes hook in a dusty corner. Half dazed, hung over, shit faced Dante reached into the side pocket, sizing up the small cellular device continuing to vibrate relentlessly inside his palm; a sleek black flip phone, new, but definitely resembling the classic prototypes. "…Since when do I own a cellphone? Weird."
He flipped it open, paused. A steady finger lingered over the alighted buttons…What if this was some kind of demonic prank? God knows…or more accurately, the Devil knows, he'd had about enough of that shit back in Limbo. The hybrid grinned wickedly, while running fingers through the locks of his newly whitened hair. Fuck, he could never get used to that damn color.
"Want to have fun with me huh? Then I'll have some fun with you too, motherfucker." With that in mind, the green answering key was tapped.
"Hi, this is your friendly neighborhood demon slayer. Please leave a message and kindly fuck off so I can go back to sleep. Thank you annnnd…click." He imitated a stereotypical answering machine, with added doushiness before quickly going to press the red square…
…until he heard the voice on the other end.
Urgency of the woman reminded him of days long past. A breath caught in his throat, one bursting with surprise and relief that she was alright.
"Dante! Dante wait, it's Kat." the voice said hurriedly, almost like the girl was holding her hands up in defense on the other end of the call...
They hadn't changed, at least.
But how did he even know it was her? Seriously, they needed a password or something. "I find a random cellphone in my pocket and I'm supposed to believe the spontaneous call it gets is from you. Okay then, tell me something only we know, Kat." There was a smirk on his face, that he knew Kat would have taken great precautions in avoiding, if she were standing beside him to see it.
"I'll explain where the phone came from later. Dante, there's no time! I-I-"
"Guess I'll just have to hang up then."
"Ugh, fine." He could practically hear the eye roll seeping from her insepid tone. Made him chuckle, it was so obvious it was her.
Tick tock, tick tock, but she better think of something fast before he'd begin doubting it really was her and not some scheming little harpy with a siren's voice, that he'd gladly shoot down any time of the day. Devils were tricky beings, could manipulate even the most logical of people. And if they could imitate Kat's voice, he feared the worst for her safety.
With her so quiet, he quietly hummed the uncharacteristically peaceful portion of another metal song he forgot the name and words of... Devil Tears? No...Devil's Never...hmm...
To his relief, she gave an answer. Admitted, it was definitely not one Dante was ever expecting to escape from said woman's mouth. She stuttered not once or twice, but three individual times, before gulping hesitantly and finally saying the delayed word she would ultimately regret saying afterwards. "Well I umm…saw your…thing…when we first met."
Out of all the things to bring up! Dante almost died laughing. His grin was wide, wolfish. He breathed into the receiver, lowering the volume of his voice by a whole octave. Curse the bastard for being able to sound so damn attractive..."Was it…big or small?"...even when sounding like a ruthless pervert!
The human witch couldn't help shrieking with disgust "DANTE!"
"Okay, okay. You pass. What's up?"
Something akin to buildings and rubble being torn asunder permeated from the cellphone, backgrounding Kat's hushed voice. Was that a scream he just heard? There was a slight pause on the other line. "…I just released an ancient demon. It was an accident, I swear!" followed by Kat blurting out the words, failing to skip a beat.
"…You…what?"
"That's why there's no time! You have to get down here, please! Remember I was studying demon remnant groups? Well I got some tips and I located one sealed by Mundus decades ago and used an old wiccan spell to seal them off completely…It backfired. Oh god, this is all my fault. And now there are hordes rampaging in the city! There are people being attacked!" came pleas through the tiny receiver, along with the piercing background sounds, the same as overgrown nails scraping a dusty chalkboard, metal cutting through metal. His brow scrunched in uneven lines as his feet unconsciously began pacing the floor.
"Where the hell are you? And who the fuck's phone is this?!"
"Chapel Road, on the west end of the city. The memorial park they recently built, you know where, right? Dante, I have to go. Meet me there, and please hurry." Her voice became distant, she seemed to be comforting someone who sobbed uncontrollably beside her.
"HEY! KAT! How am I supposed to get there and…" Just his luck that it soon faded to stifles until the other end of the call abruptly cut. "Sonuva…"
Without hesitation, the demon killer grabbed his jacket, throwing it over his sweat filled beater while grabbing the two handguns from their places on the weapon rack upon the wall, spinning them skillfully on each index finger.
"Guess it's time to go to work girls…even though we can't expect to get paid." He smirked. What a life. They were placed into their holsters as the busted front door was swung open, while the devil-angel strolled out with an unplanned skip in his step.
There was a familiar scent of spray paint welcoming Dante into the outside derived from the rain mixing with colorfully doodled street art, made by none other than Kat. Still feeling the affects of being hung over, Dante strode tiredly toward the motorway. The overly large hood of his jacket was pulled to guard his head from the heartless rain.
This was going to be a long day...
It soon behooves him to realize he lacks any form of transportation. By the time he'd reach Kat even if he did sprint all that way, she might be…
"Shit, shit, shit fuck."
He thinks, he paces, he kicks a garbage can lid off and into the brick walls seeming to enclose around him. Right. They weren't enclosing around him, that was only instinct, a mere phantom memory of the close past. Limbo had crashed upon the real world, no longer existed.
The bright color of crimson made him stop.
Halfway out of the alley Dante glanced back…swearing he'd past a...motorcycle? Red in color, it matched various accents on his generally gray coat. Odd; there'd been no such bike ever parked in front of his apartment before...
It looked brand new, shined to perfection even as rain pelted relentlessly off the metal. Quirking his scarred eyebrow, he reassuringly patted the lonesome handlebars. "Who the hell would leave you out all by yourself, babe?" Dante pouted at the sleek vehicle, undeserving of being neglected like this. Not only that…the key was still firmly jammed in the ignition. Someone obviously cared sooo much about it; they maintenanced it diligently, yet left it out in the rain to be soaked and...stolen.
It wasn't considered stealing if he returned it. At least that was his logic. And the delinquent could care a lot less if he would be accused of stealing anyway…considering how he'd been known infamously worldwide as a terrorist. With one sweep of the hand, the accumulating raindrops dampening the leather upholstered seat were knocked off as Dante hopped right on. Could be dumb luck some sorry soul just lost their ride right at the moment he needed it. Dumb luck by the way, was something a man like Dante wasn't gonna slap away. Things don't usually come by this easily though…Another demon prank?
"Ah, screw it."
Revving it, the motorcycle sped off onto the thoroughfare. Rain soaked tires squealed cacophonously against the cracked tar making up the roads of the preserved Limbo City.
~This is gonna be one HELL of a party!~
[A/N]: So how was the beginning? Good, bad? SSS ranking or D? It's kind of boring so far but it'll pick up, I promise. There's some skits too…Random.
Original Dante: Yo Lady, who's this kid?
Lady: Isn't he a demon like you? Should we kill him?
Reboot Dante: Kat, you know this old guy?
Kat: Not at all…But he seems to be a demon.
Reboot Dante: Well if it's a fight you're lookin' for, bring it. That sword looks like something out of the dark ages, pops.
Original Dante: Well kid, you don't seem like you're worth my time.
Reboot Dante: What are you, scared? *Sticks up middle finger*
Original Dante: Heh…What a punk.
*meanwhile*
Original Vergil: Well, if it isn't another half-breed. From the looks of you, you seem to be a man with a plan. *shakes hands with Reboot Vergil*
Reboot Vergil: Indeed, and you as well. How would you like to rule these inferior humans with me?
Original Vergil: With great pleasure.
I can just imagine that the two Dantes would fight each other at first. And the two Vergils would ally together. Crackish headcanon.
Follow, Favorite, and even better, review if you enjoyed any aspect. ^^ Peace.
Mission Extra 1 END