"Dante, stop fidgeting," mom scolds as I shift from one foot to the other atop of the stool that I've been standing on for the past five minutes.

"It is fine, Milady," the tailor, a tall and pale-skinned man with shoulder length black hair and eyes the color of blood, says with a smile that puts me on edge. "I'll be done soon enough." He pauses to glance over his shoulder at my brother who has been watching him closely the entire time.

"You're a demon, aren't ya?" I figure it's best to be blunt, drawing the tailor's attention back to me while Vergil flexes his fingers as if he's going to bring out Yamato.

"Dante, don't be rude!" Mom gives me a very thin-lipped scowl, and boy does she smell upset. "You're already on thin enough ice as it is."

"It is a legitimate question, Milady," the tailor states smoothly as my tail twitches. "I am a demon, yes, but of a different sort. I form contracts with mortals that pique my interest and they receive my services in exchange for their souls."

"So someone is currently holding your leash," Vergil states blithely, his fingers relaxing and his gaze meeting mine. "Otherwise you would not be here in this plane."

Mom's scowl deepens and she reaches up to rub at her temples with a slight huff, disbelief lacing through her scent. Behind her, watching all of this silently, is father, a faint smile curving his lips. He quickly schools his expression into something more neutral as mom turns to him. While I can't see the look that she's giving him I can probably guess that it is one of displeasure judging by the grimace that father gives.

"Indeed, though my current contract is…indefinite." The tailor's face briefly morphs into an expression that suggests that he's tasted something foul, irises a glowing fuchsia, and then it all smoothes out. "My master has little need of me and often leaves me to my own devices."

I tilt my head slightly, the tip of my tail flicking, then shift my gaze back to mom and father. They're still engaged in a silent exchange of some sort, with father looking more and more resigned. Giving my nose a wrinkle I turn my attention back to Vergil and find him still staring at me. "So you do this to occupy your time?"

"Among other things." How vague. The tailor gives me a bemused smirk to which I simply arch a brow in return as I flick my gaze back to him. "I've had nothing but time to learn how mortals do things these past ninety-five years I've been contracted to my master, and he was very insistent that I do so back when he had been a mortal himself."

The thing with his master sounds like a sore point, one that shouldn't be pressed. "He a demon now or something?" I ask with a casual flick of my tail, a smirk pulling up the corners of my mouth when the tailor's eyes flash that glowing fuchsia again. Bingo. "Lemme guess, ya can't break the contract."

"My word is as binding as a blood oath," the tailor states in a calm voice, letting none of his displeasure and irritation seeping through. It is impressive considering how much he seems to hate being stuck with this master of his.

"That's enough, boys," Father calls out in a commanding voice. "Michaelis is here to provide a service and does not need you prying into his personal affairs."

Vergil narrows his eyes, clearly unsatisfied to leave things be, and I feel the same way, but pressing for more information will only lead to trouble for both of us. Instead, my brother gets down from the armchair and comes over to join us, purposely flanking the demon tailor. "Everything needs to be breathable and able to withstand being worn into a battle."

"As you wish." There is a flicker of interest in Michaelis's eyes and he gives Vergil a brief glance. It looks as if he wants to ask something but he seems to decide against it and finally drops his hands. "That should be all I need."

"Finally!" I jump back, off of the stool and give my brother a smirk. "Your turn, Verge."

"That will be unnecessary," Michaelis states, at which Vergil gives me a smirk of his own, his tail giving a lazy flick. "I have the measurements for both of you with all of the needed adjustments that are to be made."

So he could have just as easily taken measurements from Vergil instead of me is what he seems to be saying. Vergil who would have probably stood there like a statue while he was poked and prodded…and I find I do not like the idea of that. Not at all.

"Run along to breakfast, boys," mom says with a strained smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Vergil neatly steps around the stool and grabs me by the hand, silently pulling me out of the sitting room and into the hallway. We're just barely out of sight of the archway when he comes to a stop and pulls me close to sniff at me. He gives a soft growl at whatever he finds, his tail lashing as his irises shift to a glowing scarlet, and wraps his arms around me. "His stench is on you," my brother hisses out and then the hallway around us shifts.

"Verge, we already had a bath," I comment as I take in the bathroom he's teleported us to. My brother gives a low growl as a response and lets go of me so he can start pulling my clothes, simple boxers and a tank top, off. He's wearing the exact same thing, which is completely beside the point, and he's not bothering to get undressed himself as he steers me towards the bathtub once he has me naked. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes." Vergil's reply is very short, almost snappish, and comes as he positions me beside the tub. I watch in silence as he pulls away and moves to turn on the bathwater. He's set it to scalding hot apparently, steam quickly billowing up out of the tub and filling the bathroom. "Get in."

I almost want to argue against having to take another bath, this one hot enough that I'll soon be matching the color of my wings and tail, but the look Vergil gives me has me acquiescing. I flinch as I step into the too hot water, holding back a hiss, then slowly sink down. It's barely tolerable as the tub continues to fill, and it's only the pleased look that flits over my brother's face that keeps me from bolting.

The water is cut off once the tub is close to half full and I'm a decidedly pink color. Vergil, still very much in charge of the situation, grabs the damp washcloth from earlier along with the soap and sets about to washing me, thoroughly. Part of me enjoys the attention, a lot, but I'm also irritated at being made to take a second bath and I just want it over with. Thankfully my brother is as quick as he is thorough and has me cleaned to his exacting standards in a matter of minutes. "Wet your hair."

"Really?!" It comes out of its own volition, and I receive a glowing scarlet glare as my answer. I bare my teeth with a soft, half-hearted growl, letting my displeasure be known, and lean back to get my hair wet. "You're being ridiculous," I mutter as I straighten back up once my hair is sufficiently soaked.

"Did you not claim me as yours last night? You are mine as well and I will not tolerate the scent of another upon you, Dante," Vergil's tone is carefully measured as he pours a generous amount of shampoo onto my hair then starts working it into a lather.

"What about mom and father? You gonna make me do this every time they touch me too?" He doesn't respond at first, his fingers working down to my scalp where he gently massages the lathered shampoo in for a moment.

"No. They are our kin," Vergil finally says, withdrawing his fingers from my hair. "Rinse." I give a soft huff and do as he bids me only to resurface and find him waiting with a fresh towel for me. "Things will not be the same as they were before, Dante. I no longer have a need to hold back my instincts when it comes to you, nor will I keep anything from you."

I set the water to drain from the tub then climb out and into the towel, giving him a frown as I do so. "I find it hard to believe that you held back on anything." He certainly hadn't held back against me atop of Temen-ni-gru, or so I want to believe.

"I could list all of the things I never did, things that I probably should have done, but it would be better to just show you." Vergil pats me dry, the process taking a little longer than what I feel is necessary if only because he does my hair too. Once he's finished he sets the towel aside, draping it over the lip of the tub, then takes me by the hand and leads me out of the bathroom.

Father is standing right outside of the doorway, an impassive expression on his face, and I very nearly come to a stop. Vergil doesn't even pause, just pulls me along behind him as he goes around the tall and imposing figure of our father. "Your mother is beside herself because you are not where you should be."

"We will be there momentarily," Vergil tosses over his shoulder and I sneak a glance at father to find him watching us with a very faint upturn to the corners of his mouth.

"Where is your brother?" Mom's pissed. There's no getting around that. It's worsened by the fact that I'm the only one that showed up to breakfast, Vergil having taken off with a promise of coming back and a quick kiss to my cheek.

Sure, I had promised to keep an eye on him but something about his demeanor kept me from following after him. He was taking off to do something important, something that has my instincts intrigued. "I dunno." I frown down at the plate of food set before me, finding all of it unappealing when I know it's something I've eaten before.

"Dante." The note of warning in mom's voice has me looking towards her, my head tilting slightly as I give a slow blink.

"I really don't know. Demon stuff, I suppose." As much as I've embraced that side of me there is still a lot I don't know about. Vergil would, and I get the feeling that whatever he is doing is one of those things I have no knowledge of. I hadn't really cared before and now I'm coming to regret that.

Mom's lips thin at my lackluster answer while father just sits at the end of the table with a very odd expression on his face. He looks happy, for the most part, but there's also worry that shows itself whenever he glances at mom. It's…curious.

I frown at my plate again then push it away from me, unable to bring myself to even try and eat any of it. I ignore the sound mom makes, an angry little inhale that would no doubt be followed up by some sort of chastisement, but she doesn't get the chance. There's a crackle of energy and I twist around in my seat to peer around the back of the chair just as Vergil appears, splattered with blood and holding on to what looks like a carcass of some sort. I don't know why, but whatever creature he's killed and brought back looks far more appealing than the stuffed omelet and sautéed potatoes.

Vergil is watching me closely, almost like he's waiting for me to make a move of some sort, his posture completely rigid. I tilt my head slightly, looking from him to the carcass once more, then climb out of the chair to slowly approach him. He doesn't move, just continues watching me in silence as I come to stand in front of him and his kill.

It's clear that I have no idea as to what is happening, or why it feels so very important, but I follow my instincts and circle around both my brother and his offering. Once. Twice. A third and final time before I stop directly in front of Vergil and make a soft noise, almost a chirp, as my tail gives a happy wave. The effect on my brother is immediate, the tension vanishing as relief floods his scent and his expression. While I'm no closer to understanding what just happened, and is still going on, I've apparently done something right judging by Vergil's reaction.