I was late.
By two whole days, kind of late. I'd been preoccupied exploring the palace gardens, wandering the coast by horseback, dining out in the palace food court, visiting the historical museum, watching movies in the palace cinema...you get the idea. I even made friends with my next door neighbours - the couple in the luxury room on my left were a comedic bunch, and the older guy who looked something like a war veteran in the King suite on my right had a certain charm about him. I stayed out really late, didn't get in until the morning hours, and then I'd pass out for a couple of hours, if I were that lucky. Sparda still haunted my sleep.
And when I was awake, reality tormented me more. I couldn't stop thinking about what Dante had revealed; I couldn't get Vergil out of my head. I walked around with this unyielding traumatised terror in my chest all the time. I tried to keep myself so busy to try and not think about him, that I somehow, in my obsession, did forget him.
It only hit me with a sinking feeling when Silias opened my suite door, sometime past midnight, and I caught the last couple of echoing rings from the phone. I chirped a 'thanks' to him and rushed inside, only to stop and stare at the suddenly silent phone. The only person who had ever rung me here was Dante.
I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at what the consequence could be. The last thing I needed was to give Vergil a reason to come looking for me. I jumped on the laptop and scrambled to find the notepad with my details on it. I typed it in with shaking fingers, cursing at myself for freaking out like this.
Strangely enough, there was only one new mail in my inbox. I opened it, and clicked on the link Vergil had sent me - according to the log - two days ago. A chat window opened with a box prompting me for a username. I copied my details into it and the screen went white.
A second later, a whole page worth of conversation materialised with evanscora has joined the chat right at the bottom.
I scanned through the wall of text - the gist of it was that we lay low for a while longer, that Vergil had found himself in a bit of a pickle when the hunter demons attacked, and the last bit of text stated that the two of them will meet up in an hour. The last message was a day old. I sat back and stared at the screen nervously, and nearly jumped out of my skin when the phone rang again.
I bolted for it and snatched it up with a racing heart. "Dante?"
"What happened?" He sounded angry.
"I forgot!"
"Really?!"
I sank down onto the edge of the sofa with a heavy sigh. "I-"
"Forget it."
The dial tone laughed into my ear and I fought back my tears. I hung up and gazed at the phone, hoping that he'd call back and knowing deep down that he wouldn't. Not any time soon, at least. I took a deep breath against the riptide of fear swirling inside my gut. I had to get away from everything. I couldn't physically do so, so I did the next best thing.
I threw my door open, fully intent on heading straight for the palace bar, when someone grabbed my arm and wrenched me back into my suite. I shrieked and whirled around to stare at the tall, lithe figure cloaked in black glowering down at me. Waves upon waves of some pungent scent I couldn't distinguish washed over me, nearly taking my breath away.
"Who are you?" I shouted at him in fright, and doubled back in shock that I'd actually said it out loud.
"C'mon, babe," he sneered at me in mild amusement. "It's just me."
"Yeah? Who's 'me', huh? How did you get here so fast?" I demanded, still back tracking from him.
Dante brought a mobile phone from his pocket and cocked an eyebrow at me incredulously. "You should have figured that I'd come looking for you when you didn't make the meet-up."
I glanced from him to the phone he was holding out to me, and carefully slipped it into my own pocket. "How long have you been here?"
I watched him close the door and lock it with a firm motion. "Long enough to figure out a few things," he said and wandered into the bedroom.
I stopped in the doorway and watched him circle the room with slow, exaggerated stride before he finally spun on his heel and flopped down onto the bed. I spotted Rebellion leaning up against the wall in the corner. I eyed the black coat he donned and cautiously walked over to him.
"What's with the new style?" I asked uncertainly, pulling the hood down to reveal the almost dazzling white-silver of his hair. It was almost funny, the reaction his appearance created inside of me, when I haven't seen him in a while. My first instinct was always to back away from him; the only reason I never ran was because my heart distracted me with its loop-di-loops.
"Laying low, remember?" Dante murmured as I dragged my fingers through the thick, soft mass of hair. He caught my wrist suddenly and pulled me down to sit beside him.
"Is that why you smell like moldy potatoes?" I asked, wrinkling my nose at him.
Huuuuhahahahaha. Moldy potatoes, huh?
"Maybe I smell bad to you but at least I don't have to worry about demons picking up my scent. Speaking of," Dante said and leaned back onto his elbows, squinting at the wall. "You need to be more careful. The guy next door is a demon. So is the douchebag who keeps stalking you."
"You mean Silias? He's my butler. It's his job."
"To 'ler' at your butt?" Dante sniffed.
Hehehehehehe.
"You're so lame it's not even funny anymore," I said, shaking my head and looking at the wall, too.
Whatever, that WAS funny.
"Still, you have to wonder who he's really working for."
"You think it's not safe here?"
His eyes were piercing and pale when he studied me for a second. "Nah, you'll be okay now that I'm here."
"My hero, always saving me."
"My troublemaker, causing havoc wherever she goes."
"You can't say you don't like the havoc. You're always coming back for more."
"Only when I feel like it."
"Charming, Dante."
"Aren't I?" he flashed me a grin.
We both stared at the wall for another long moment.
"We need a plan of action."
"I say we wing it," Dante replied.
I pulled a face at him. "Are we even talking about the same thing here?"
"Yeah," Dante said and looked at me funny. "Sparda, right?"
"Yeah," I said slowly, and scowled at him. "What do you mean we wing it? We can't just go barging into the underworld without a plan."
"Why not? I've done it plenty times. So have you."
"When I was a demon."
*sniffffffff*
"That does not mean you don't have the experience and skill anymore."
I shifted myself sideways to look at him squarely. "I prefer we have a plan in place."
"Alright, let's hear it," Dante said, lying flat on his back and crossing his arms over his face.
"I say we go back to Prosperity and Metropolis and find anyone willing to put an end to these demons. We'll get other devil hunters in on it, too."
"Good luck with that."
Okay can we just wind back for a second here?
"What do you mean by that?"
"I'm not a people person."
"You're not being very helpful, Dante."
Helluuuuu, are you guys like seriously ignoring me?
"Alright," Dante huffed and sat himself back up. "So let's say we get a little league together, then what?"
"Then we make plans to go get Sparda."
You can't ignore me, I'm the writer.
"So we'll be no better off than we are right now, only we'll have a bunch of other people to contend with as well?"
Okay I'm totally going to bulldoze this effin fourth wall right now.
"What fourth wall?" Dante sighed impatiently.
The one some other writer made me aware of. You know, the metaphorical 'wall' that separates the character from the audience/writer.
"Like I said, what fourth wall? You've never had one of those," Dante said.
...tragic. No writer should have a fourth wall. It's way more fun this way.
"So what's the problem?" Cora asked nervously.
Did you see what I did there? BAM, third person narrative - like magic! I bet you didn't even notice.
"Well you can't talk to yourself in first person if you're writing your insert in first person," Dante pointed out.
She's not a self-insert...
"Again, I'll ask, what is the problem?" Cora interrupted.
Something is missing. It took me three weeks to get back to working on this chapter because something wasn't working in it, and now that I'm finally getting back into it, it's just...something is off.
"I thought Dante smelled funny."
Well I wouldn't know. Why would he suddenly have to drown himself in stinky cologne or magic potion or whatever the hell he's meant to have used, when earlier in the story he was able to follow you without you detecting his scent?
"You'll need to be more specific - which scene are we talking about?"
Ugh, like it matters? When he was hunting you down right at the beginning. You're full demon, you should have sensed him or smelled him but you didn't. So if he's got stealth on his side, there should be no need for the potato smell OR the black coat. Right? I don't even know what the hell moldy potatoes smell like.
"Really?" Cora asked, surprised. "Why'd you write it then?"
I was being descriptive! Plus I was hoping it would put you off from getting kinky and shit.
"It all makes sense now."
Shut up!
"Is that the only issue with this chapter?" Dante asked, rubbing his sleep irately.
No. Vergil won't let me work on it any more than I already have.
"Well what the hell is his problem?" Dante demanded.
Err...you making him out to be an asshat? And me stupidly following your lead and writing the entire effin scene at the bottom of this chapter. Like. Gimme back my reigns, Dante. You suck at plot twists.
"Hey, I didn't force you to follow my lead," Dante said.
Ugh, don't mess around, you knew I would. Like you knew I would hit a block after writing the entire Vergil scene. Like you knew I would bring you in earlier because that usually works to get the plot going. The only thing you were wrong about was that I was going to let you score. You knew I'd catch on.
Dante pursed his lips and shrugged. "I'm only upholding my part of the contract. You ought to do the same."
No, you're NOT, Dante. You sabotaged my view of Vergil, hence you hampered the flow of the story and stilted the writing, therefore you have not honoured your part of the contract and therefore I will not honour mine either.
"But- you need me!"
Oh yeh babeh *perve face*
"Stop that," Dante scolded angrily.
I can't help myself. Well, look. I reread the entire sequel and Vergil just isn't that much of an asshole. I mean he is, just...not as demented as he was before.
"So you're gonna make me out a liar, is that it?"
No, I'll just...make it like you were not on the same page as he is. Obviously. Have him put things back in order...
"I thought you wanted me and Cora to end up together?"
Oh, phu-lease, she can't have you. You both know that very well.
"You mean I'm going to end up with Vergil?" Cora asked, confused.
What am I, a walking-talking spoiler? I'm not telling anyone until the end.
"You don't still have the Grug ending planned out, do you?" Dante asked hesitantly.
Hmmm, I dunno. Maybe. I guess it depends on what mood I'm in on the day. I'm having second thoughts.
...
I hit the palace bar. My neighbour was there too and I plunked myself down on the stool beside him. I kept forgetting his name, so all I said to him was, 'hey'.
"Fancy meeting you here," he said, distractedly staring down into his drink.
"Hm," I mumbled, not sure whether he was trying to joke or not. He didn't seem the kind to have much of a humour on him. At any rate, he looked zoned out.
Maybe he'd been at the bar a fair amount longer. He looked pensive, though. I nodded at his personal butler in acknowledgement, not wanting to seem rude, and did a double take in surprise. "Nice sword." This caught my neighbours' attention and his grey eyes moved to meet mine. I looked at him, back at the katana that his butler had girdled to his hip, and back at him. "I didn't know one could push the boundaries in this place based off how much money you have. Generally people aren't allowed to bring hazards into places like this."
He cracked a small smile. "I've not been reprimanded about it as of yet."
"Do they have a swordsmith on the island?" I asked curiously, accepting the glass of brandy from the bartender and turning to look at the sword again. "I mean, is it new?"
"You could say that."
I eyed him curiously when he didn't go on, and shrugged. He watched me with equal interest, and finally looked away when I sipped at my drink instead. We sat in silence until I thought I'd had my fill, and I left with a polite 'good night'. He responded with raising his own glass in a toast. Silias was helpful as far as getting me to my suite without face-planting, and then I crashed on the sofa.
~...~
The first thing I knew, before the dark tendrils of the netherworld spat me out, was that I was cold. Not just cold; it was a sensation akin to what I'd endured during my exorcism. Ice crawled beneath my skin, and my muscles were sore from tremors I hadn't realised I'd been having. I grit my teeth and tried to control my trembling as I slowly woke up. The room seemed to be slightly tipsy, the sunlight pouring in too bright.
I sat up with effort, and noticed someone sitting on the other end. I recoiled from the sofa so fast that I barely had the mind to process what I was doing. I slipped on the marble floor and slammed my spine into it a second later. The impact chased spikes of pain up my back and I let out a startled cry. The other occupant had risen to his feet and was beside me in the blink of an eye.
"Are you alright?"
"How did you get in here?" I gasped out, using the wall for support as I got back onto my feet.
He was dressed all in black - black shirt with the sleeves pushed up, black vest open over it, black jeans, black boots - and his frost-white hair was windblown, like he had just stepped inside from a blizzard. I scanned the room frantically, but there were no devil arms in sight, which in and of itself was bizarre.
"You left your balcony door open," he said, furrowing a brow at me. "Do I smell alcohol on you?"
"How long have you been here?" I asked, shaking my head at him.
"Don't change the subject. You're supposed to be laying low, Cora, not living it up."
I blinked back up at him dazedly, and flinched away when he tapped my cast.
"And why is this thing still on? You need to get it off."
"Oh, so you're a doctor now?" I retorted weakly.
He gave me a look that made me cringe. "I thought you can take care of yourself."
"I can," I muttered, and watched him pace the room restlessly.
"I knew I should have come sooner," he grumbled. He spun around and gestured to me angrily. "You can't even keep a simple date."
I scowled back at him and then down at the floor. "I got a little sidetracked whatnot with..." I trailed off and stopped. I watched him for another minute. Was it a coincidence that just last night my neighbour mysteriously obtained a katana, and today I had one of the sons of Sparda on my doorstep - without his katana?
Then why was he sending me vibes that reminded me of Dante? And why the hell did the old guy next door have Vergil's sword? I couldn't even begin to fathom how that happened. Or was this paranoia taking hold? I've been on edge for weeks now. Dante would not be impressed if I accused him of being Vergil.
"With?" he'd turned to look at me, confused.
I pursed my lips and shrugged. "All the things we've been talking about over the phone," I lied. "It just slipped my mind because we'd been talking earlier that day and..." I shrugged again. "Sorry I missed it."
His eyes bored into me for a long, quiet moment, and then, "Well let's go see if we can find a medical room so we can have your cast taken off."
My heart was doing sickening thuds against my ribs when he took hold of my hand and we left my suite. Dante would have made some witty remark about my blatant lie, wouldn't he? Or was he too pissed off to even bother setting my fears at ease?
I was too scared to resist him - just incase I had it wrong and he was Vergil - and followed his lead blindly.
Two hours later we were sitting in the palace food court, eating breakfast, my cast gone and my arm feeling really weird, when he broached the subject of using resistance training to build up muscle in my arm.
"What for?" I asked, pausing with a piece of toast in mid-air to eye him worriedly.
"What do you mean what for? We are being hunted. You'd stand a slightly better chance at defending yourself with two arms," Dante said impatiently.
"Speaking of arms," I said, and licked my lips, "Where are your devil arms, Dante?"
A small smile crossed his lips suddenly and he leaned back in his chair. "In the shop for repairs."
I frowned at him, confused. "What?"
His smile disappeared and he sighed, "I'm not completely unarmed. I let Vergil borrow Rebellion."
"Why?"
"He lost Yamato in the attack. He needs something to protect himself with."
I narrowed my eyes at him, and straightened up when he brandished Ebony and Ivory from out of nowhere, twirled them expertly in his hands, and then hid them on his body once more. He looked at me pointedly, and I squirmed under his gaze. There was no doubt that this was Dante; he'd never part with his guns, and Vergil was more of swordsman than a gunslinger, anyway.
"How did he lose Yamato?" I asked, relaxing into my own seat.
He smiled again. "Who knows? He didn't tell me." He leaned over the table and caught hold of my hand, and straightened my arm out on the table.
For a second I had a flashback - I was on my knees in a shadowed backstreet, and Vergil was holding my hand - in the exact same hold as Dante was.
"Did I hurt you?" Dante asked hesitantly.
I wrinkled my nose when I realised I must have shown some expression of pain at the memory. "No, it's fine. It feels really weird."
He flattened my arm on the table and lifted my hand, twisting my wrist up slowly. Then he pushed my hand down against the table gently. I watched him do it a couple more times before I caught the way he was watching me.
"Do this a few times, as often as you remember to. Clenching your fist will help, too."
"Right," I said when he let go, and I pulled my arm back to me securely.
I finished my breakfast and ordered another coffee to go. "You're quiet," I remarked as we waited for my order at the counter.
"I like quiet," he said with a shrug.
"Hmm. Want to take a walk with me?"
"I think I'll pass."
"Why?" I demanded.
"I'm tired," Dante bit back. "You had me worried out of my head when you didn't make the meeting, and then I couldn't reach you on the phone either. I haven't slept in over 48 hours. Give me a break!"
"Okay," I said softly, waving him down. "Geez, I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't."
"Well, here's the room key," I said, fishing the access card out of my pocket and holding it out to him.
He made to take the card from me, then thought better of it, and gripped my hand instead. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. You're coming with me."
"Yes, sir," I grumbled as he led the way back, half-dragging me behind him.
I'm totally scrapping this half. If not the entire chapter. I may even start afresh. Vergil, don't hate me. Dante made me do it.
"..."
Use your words, please. The dot dot dot makes me anxious.
"When are we getting started?"
Like right now.