Legal Stuff: I don't own DMC or anything nearly that cool. Until I win the lottery, they belong to Capcom.
Long-ass AN: Many people believe that since DMC2's Dante was so out of character, it should be taken out of DMC canon. There are, however, a few people like me who have their own theories as to why Dante seemed so out of it. More info is at the bottom so as not to kill the ending. I've long struggled with my writing style, so all constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, but please, no flames, as like many young women, I have very low self-esteem, and you wouldn't want to be responsible for a little "accident" now would you? j/k, but seriously, flamers gtfo. As a final note, this may or may not be one-shot. I have ideas for future chapters, but I wanna see some interest before I commit the time to it or make a fool of myself any further. So please review. Thankies!
The Almighty Caffeine Goddess
A white-haired man clad in red and black leather stood atop the dark museum roof looking over his pair of mismatched handguns. It had been far too long, and the oversized, customized guns felt disturbingly clumsy in his gloved hands, but he reassured himself that, when the time came, his warrior instincts would kick in and he would master the guns in an instant, just like any other weapon. The time came a bit sooner than he'd expected.
The man had planned on quietly infiltrating the museum from the roof to bypass the locked entrance, but the screeches of avian demons and clashes of metal called for more haste than finesse, so the man did what anyone would have expected of the infamous Dante Sparda. In a feat of theatric flare, he dove head-first through a large, stained glass window, raining lead on the Puia as he fell, adeptly shifting his weight to land gracefully on his feet. The woman who'd been fending off the attackers quickly raised her guard as the man took out the last demon directly behind her. Unnoticed by the guardian, the man hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to introduce himself as an ancient coin rolled towards him. Without any sign of his inner turmoil, he put all the confidence he could into his voice and while tossing the coin back apathetically inquired,
"You called?"
The red-headed guardian regarded the hunter suspiciously as she headed for the door. Suddenly, she turned around and threw a dagger into a map on the opposite wall and haughtily declared, "Till next time, Son of Sparda."
Son of Sparda.
Son of the Traitor.
Those were the names he was accustomed to.
The man didn't say a word as the woman left, and turned his attention to the map, then to a smooth, black granite pillar nearby. In the dim moonlight he could see his unfamiliar reflection. Red was never his color, but he donned it well.
He reached into his vest for a silver amulet encrusted with three jewels. It was a gift from his brother after he'd refused to take back the memento of his mother, whom he felt he'd betrayed. But his brother had insisted he have some means of devil triggering in case of emergency.
He gripped the amulet and watched his reflection change. His eyes began to glow and his skin turned into a hard, dark exoskeleton with bioluminescent cracks. Fingers and toes became claws and hairs stood rigidly spiked like a crown of spines and horns. But most noticeable in the gloomy museum was the blue glow emanating from his body.
This won't do.
He closed his eyes in concentration and slowly the cool blue became a fiery red. Satisfied, he released the amulet and reverted to his previous form.
Son of Sparda.
If everyone here on this island preferred to call him that, this insane experiment might just be a little easier, or so Vergil hoped.
First chapter down, a personal best. This idea was first sparked two years ago here. http:// darkaeonanima . livejournal . com / 6752 . html (minus the spaces, of course) The link to the original doujinshi that gave me the idea no longer directs correctly, but if you poke around the site, you'll probably still find it. I think it was called Bad Standard by JPEG.