The Bucket List

Chapter 1

Dante knew that there was a lot to be said for fan loyalty, but he also knew that there was plenty to be said for taking risks and taking roads that nobody would normally think of. He liked to think that he lived life to the full, and he usually achieved that by breaking every single rule he could think of and doing even the simplest of tasks as recklessly as possible.

So when Capcom came out with the announcement of Devil May Cry 5, or DmC, he wasn't concerned. As the Internet heaved with fan outrage and cries of "RUINED FOREVER!" rent the air, Dante continued to munch on his pizza (no olives) and drink his beer. He figured he couldn't really be mad at Capcom for trying something new and different when he himself made it his creed to take the expected and warp it to within an inch of its life.

Trish meanwhile, was nowhere near as complacent.

'What are we going to do?' she wailed, for the millionth time since the announcement had been made. Dante sighed and looked up from the dirty magazine he'd been staring at. Nero, in a fit of impotent rage, had upended a cup of coffee on the magazine, making the pages stick together and the whole thing unreadable. Dante had taken to using it as an elaborate coaster, table-mat and frizbee, depending on where his mood took him.

'Do?' he repeated, confused. 'About what?'

'This!' she growled, gesturing to a pin-up poster of the new "Dante", otherwise known as "He Who Must Be Shunned". Darts stuck out of the poster's eyes, chest and crotch. That last part was the only reason Dante had never bothered to ask where Trish had found the poster, and why she'd decided to bring the abomination home instead of burning it there and then.

'If you stopped encouraging Vergil and Nero to use your poster as target practise maybe you wouldn't have run out of darts. You can just pull them out and re-use them, y'know.'

Trish stared at him.

'The world really is ending,' she said, after a few second of stunned silence.

'And you came to this conclusion how exactly?'

'Well the description of this fic says that this is meant to be a humour fic written by Bustahead.'

'It is,' Dante agreed, pleased by Trish's observation skills. 'And?'

'You're trying to use logic to annoy me.'

'I wouldn't call this logic. I'm just pretending ignorance.'

'In these sort of fics, you usually don't have to pretend,' Trish returned archly. Dante frowned and folded his arms over his chest.

'It's hardly my fault if you can't appreciate my genius. And don't insult the author. She could kill you with a thought.'

'If she did that there wouldn't be a fic, would there?' Trish's tone was far too smug. And there was something about that sentence that made Dante actually start to pay proper attention to the words coming out of her mouth.

'Wait...what?'

'That's right, Dante. This fic is about me.'

Before he could formulate an effective response, a low, sardonic chuckle sounded from behind. He turned, only to see his brother leering at them from the window.

'Your misconceptions about the focus of this piece of..."work" is highly entertaining.'

'And I guess you know exactly what's going on?' The sarcasm in Trish's voice was as thick as mud. Undeterred, Vergil continued to smirk.

'Naturally. But to explain it to you would make things go even more off topic than they already are.'

'I hate to agree with him, but Two-D has a point,' Dante cut in. 'The fourth wall's in a pretty sorry state.'

'Like your door,' Vergil muttered, stung by the insult to his characterisation.

'Shut up!' Dante snarled. Trish rolled her eyes.

'Stop lurking by the window and get in here, Vergil. You should be involved. I'll probably end up needing your help too as it is.' Dante immediately looked towards Trish, attention completely and utterly focused on her.

'Wait...help? You? Help?'

'You're not a parrot so stop acting like one,' Trish snapped. 'Can I at least attempt to move the plot forward? It's been over 600 words and nothing's happened!'

'WAIT!' A voice bellowed from outside. The three exchanged looks of confusion before the door was suddenly slammed off its hinges and sent flying into the opposite wall, sending a few skull trophies clattering to the floor. There in the doorway, looking completely unrepentant, was Nero.

Vergil immediately wrinkled his nose, which Nero pretended not to notice. Dante, on the other hand, was more concerned with the fact that his door had been destroyed, and this time he himself had had nothing to do with it.

'What the hell is it with you and running late? Your girlfriend's concert, your girlfriend's rescue, and now this?' Dante turned on the new arrival, disbelief etched onto his face. Nero scoffed and folded his arms over his chest.

'I got to Kyrie's concert on time.'

'For her to finish. You can't fool me. I was there. I saw you sneak in without her noticing.'

'Details,' Nero huffed, trying his best to sound dismissive.

'So are we all here now?' Trish interrupted, looking irritated. 'Is anyone else going to come bursting in?'

'What about the Original Character Crew?' Nero put in. Trish shook her head.

'We have enough flame-bait already. We'll probably need them later when we need to make someone cry. Actually...' Trish's voice petered out as she drew a huge list from nowhere and unrolled it. The three men watched as the roll bounced on the floor with a heavy smack and continued to unfurl itself, rolling all the way out of the door-way.

'Creativity at it's finest,' Vergil sniffed.

'Ah! That's one done already!' Trish chirped, scratching at the list with a flourish of a pen. The three hybrids continued to stare at her in silence before Dante sighed.

'Fine. I'll get this Plot introduced. What the hell is that?'

'My bucket list!'