1. First and foremost, the moods of the characters may seem to alter rapidly, this happens for reason that will be explained in due time.

2. This fanfiction will NOT follow the storyline of Devil May Cry. Things will be out of order and bent according to my own free will. I don't want this to be Devil may Cry with an OC thrown into the storyline. To me, that is incredibly boring and I REFUSE to support that. HOWEVER, I will try my damnedest to keep all characters from the DMC series as close to their personalities as possible.

3. The more reveiws I get, the more I will WANT to update. I mean, I'll update regardless; but motivation and constructive criticism is highly appreciated. :)

Loud clinks sounded from the basement of Contraband Requiem, which is a business that you will come to know sooner than you would like to.

Inside of the dark cement basement stood a tall male, hunched over a flurry a sparks as he worked on one of his swords. Beads of sweat rolled down the soft curves of his face. As his sand and chestnut color-treated hair began to mat itself to his pale skin. A single crimson eye, with a burst of golden flecks around his pupil cut through the darkness, ALOMST as well as the fire itself. On the left side of his face sat an ebony eye patch. This was Ruki, the forge. A single bead of sweat ran from the back of his neck down his spine. Yes, the youth was shirtless during the time of his craft; but not any other time. Even if the sight of his lean muscles would make any girl fall to her knees. His lower body was only covered by a pair of black not-too-loose, but not-too-tight jeans held up by an all white belt. His feet, were bare as they always were.

A few loud clinks later, he laid his tools of creation down and dipped the red-hot metal into water, which created a large cloud of hissing steam. After holding it in there for a while he took it out and sat it on the counter. A large smile crossed the man's hanndsome features as his beige fox ears perked up, creating a small jingle as the triple piercing on his right ear hit each other. He picked his new creation up and opened his safe, stowing the weapon within the vault.

With effortless movement, he put out the fire and opened the door that led upstairs to the open living room. He walked over to the black velvet couch and sprawled out upon it, closing his eyes. He let out an exhausted, "Finally..."

Ruki loved working in the forge, but the problem was that he wouldn't stop until he was finished with whatever weapon he decided to created. He didn't care how tired he got, or what he needed to do. His custom creations were his top priority in his book. The only reason he would stop in the middle of making one was if he fainted in the middle of it from lack of sleep or if his sister was in trouble and he knew.

The rapid fluttering of an eyelid occurred as Ruki tried to fight off sleep. He didn't want to fall asleep on the velvet couch, although it was rather soft. And comfortable. And... His eyelid snapped back open. He needed to go take a shower, but the shower was so far away... And this- This couch was so... Comfortable.

He lifted himself up into a sitting position, inhaling deeply. As he closed his eye, he held the air inside his chest, then let in leak out slowly from his mouth. His eye opened to a picture on the wall that Atsan hung up in his own twisted sense of humor. A bright purple photo of ivory dinner plate full of bright green grass. Ruki sneezed. Atsan frequently joked that the allergy was purely in his head, considering that when surrounded by grass in a fight, Ruki never sneezed. Not once.

Almost as if on cue, the even taller and even more muscular man walked into the room. Dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, a black belt with a silver buckle, and a plain black t-shirt. His hair was black with a patch of white on top and a pair of piercing golden eyes. His charming smirk revealed a set a perfectly aligned white fangs. The kind of guy who just looked like an asshole, which made the girls come a-runnin'. A rich chuckle formed in his throat before his lips parted, "Psychoso-"

"It's not psychosomatic!" He yelled absent mindedly.

He breathed in deeply, placing his hands on his knees and arose to his regular six foot stature. He fled over to the bathroom and proceeded to take a shower and remove the thin layer of sweat resided around his body. He wondered whether or not he should go out and find his sister tonight. Probably not, she could take care of herself, but he might wonder the streets for awhile since he had some free time.

Atsan sighed as his was left alone in the room once more, three people in this agency and no one ever paid him mind. With a swift motion the man went from standing to sitting back in the velvet couch.

His mood immediately perked up as he looked out of the window to see a familiar thing. A grey cement building of staggering heights broke the scene of a clear blue sky and cotton candy clouds with ease; but the woman whom stood upon the top of the building broke it in an even more apparent way. She stood out like an oil spill on a piece of ivory silk. This woman stood at only a height of five foot three inches. Her hair was short in the back and angled downward, the longest stands of hair only reaching a little bit past her small chin. Her hair had splotches of jet-black, cherry red, and platinum blond color. Perfectly manicured dark mahogany eyebrows sat above a set of large, ever-deepening dark magenta eyes outlined with coal colored eyeliner. Small flecks of hot pink were strategically placed around were slowly dilating and un-dilating pupils. The ivory hue of her skin, perfectly angled nose, the black and maroon tipped fox ears that sat so attentively upon her head, and the soft shade of pink that stained the woman's lips proved to make her look fragile.

A shortened black dress jacket sat upon a white collared shirt with a white, silver studded strap crossed right below her breasts. The jacket and white shirt, seeing as it they no buttons, are both left open; exposing her black bra, long torso and her silver belly button piercing. The only this holding the white dress shirt together was a loose coal colored tie with a white cross design at the very end of it. A black mini skirt with an even shorter red plaid angled half skirt sitting on top of it, adorned with a small silver chain. A thick white studded belt sat just above the skirt along with a smaller one angled up towards her side. See-through black hoes stopped right before the skirt had ended and had a strap leading to who knows where. She also wore black converse that stopped just below her knee. The shoelaces and the entire shoe itself was black, aside from the white cross on the tongue of the shoe.

Interested in her name? Saki Kurasagi. She was the head of a bounty hunting agency, which she runs with her brother, Ruki, and that pain in the ass, Atsan.

Her fluffy fox ears flattened against her head as she let out a low growl, baring her luminescent fangs as her eyes narrowed. Rage filled her veins as her blood began to boil, although her skin was always extremely cold to the touch. A small flame emitted from her clenched fist. She wanted to do more than hit something, she wanted to rip something into bloody fucking shreds and watch the twitching muscles separate. Her pounding head and almost aching eyes did anything but make this mood better.

Within the blink of an eye she leapt from the ledge and into the air. As she was in the middle of her descent she noticed that her skirt had floated up, revealing her black panties. Watching from the window, the man smirked. She rolled her eyes before landing in a crouched position, cursing herself for actually letting Atsan dress her up, she knew he was watching because he's always trying to get a peek at the world unknown. She stood up, now that skirt returned to where it should be and began to walk the streets. Her gaze shifted from object to object not letting anything escape her sight. The black and silver sheathe that held her sword stayed at her hip, but moved about gently from the motion of her walking.

Once she reached the front door of the agency she hit a secret button underneath the doorbell which triggered the door to open automatically. With great elegance, she ran up two flights of stairs creating soft taps from her boots on the dark cherry wood flooring. Upon arrival of the desired floor, she saw Atsan lounging around on the couch, being lazy as always. It was a wonder the man stayed in such great shape, but that may have something to do with being a demon too.

"God dammit!" came an angry yell from the woman with a usually lyrical voice.

Atsan jumped in place. Saki seldom yelled, even if someone really deserved it, "I only looked for a second! I promise!"

Making her way over to the couch, she plopped herself down onto the couch, next to Atsan as he promptly gave the steaming woman some room. Her body went limp as she snaked her arms around his sides and spoke softly, "We're going to hell, not only that; but we're having others accompany us."

This was his chance, he pulled her closer as he relaxed even more into the couch, "Well... Uh... Yeah... I'm sure hell is full of people, Saki." He wasn't quite catching onto what exactly his friend was telling him.

She roughly pulled herself from his grasp, sitting back up right. A clenched fist connected wih his left pect out of pure hatred for his stupidity at times. Her voice dropped half an octave as she half yelled, her ears twitching lightly, "No. We're getting sent to hell on a mission you dumb fuck!"

The man was more than flabbergasted, "Th-They can do that? What the fuck? Really? Honestly? I can't get sent to hell this young, I mean, I thought I could 'Hail Molly' my way out of this."

Ruki stepped out from the shower, which was just across the room. He had been listening in on their conversation from its intial start. Tiny droplet of water ran its way down the rivulets of his lean back. He was wrapped in a towel, and even though he wouldn't normally sit down and talk walking he was in this state of dress, going to hell seemed like a pretty important topic to get in on and at least get the important facts about it. Letting out a sigh, he corrected his male companion as he always has, "First off, it's 'Hail Mary'. Second off," he sat down on the black leather that sat diagonal from the couch, "you're a demon, so going to hell, shouldn't be all that scary." He turned his attention towards his sister as the demon next to her started grumbling underneath his breath, "What kind of situation do we have here, sis."

She shook her head. Truth be told, she didn't know all to much about the mission this sweet, sweet... stupid old lady had her going on. She didn't know who it was going to be with, why exactly they were going, or even what the fuck they were supposed to be doing. With a heavy sigh she spoke, "A week from today- at midnight- we're suppose to go meet to old geezer, then she'll do some freaky voodoo shit that'll take us to hell, we'll meet up with our unknown partners, then they'll fill us in because the old lady didn't fill like saying what we had to do exactly twice..." A small pause filled the room before another break in the silence, "I fuckin' hate old people..."

This got a chuckle out of Atsan, but a frown from Ruki. Cracking his knuckles, a nervous twitch of Ruki's, she stated the last words of the night, "On that note, we'd better rest up while we can. Don't do anything strenuous, just relax before it's time for hell. And Atsan, I know it's a Friday night and all, but please don't go and party. Stay here, watch movies. Just be chill. Got it?"

After a couple nods of their heads they all went about their day trying to have fun while still being relaxed. Which is kind of hard for Saki considering one of her favorite things to do is tear things to bloody shreds and also because believe it or not she wanted to cuddle with someone. God forbid, if it was Atsan. He'd have a better better chance in hell... Wait. No, that was wrong. Ah, hell.