Author's notes:
FIRST, TO MY DEAREST REVIEWRS!!
anarchy-munky: You love me?! YAY!! I love you, too! Haha, I bet you really meant you love my story.
Angles Never Die: Really? -eyes wide- You really think so? -eyes wider- Really!! Thank you!! :D-frowns- oh no…but this chapter…not…really…
Bustahead: Here's your update! :) Ugh…I took too long... don't worry, I have an explanation!
BloodyDemonEmpress: Nono! You don't have to feel obliged to review…but your excuse…my, my, you gotta see my excuse for being so late with this chapter…
burryk: More than 2 shadows are fun to kill! Except when they devil-trigger, for me, though…I like listening to their growls and letting them stalk me. Loads of fun!
Livy: Qide, are you following my story? Are you reading this now? Are you? Are you? :D
Peter the Muggle: Aww! I'm so glad you liked my action scene… It was the first I've ever written, too…so I'm really happy that you didn't skip it!
Rodarian: !! I GOT YOUR TRISH COMMENT ON THAT POSTER IN!! :D But it might not be as you pictured it……as you mentioned that 'you were evil'. NO YOU'RE NOT EVIL!! You eat ice cream, so you're sweet :D
Ryn Temple: Your name is very, attractive. Anyhoo, I'm glad you liked it! I hope this chapter doesn't bore you o
You-Can't-Fool-Me:…you signed in just to comment? Did you know you didn't have to sign in? How in the Underworld did you find me?! I've been playing DMC2 nonstop because of you…and playing with the Dante action figure...
Anyhoo, there's been a lot going along, hence my delay. I had to clear my computer from some Adware threats :D. My mom thinks FF.N gives the computer viruses, so I couldn't go on . I got into a big fight with my sister (it's linked to our computer 'viruses'; she was downloading songs when I thought she was helping me find the addresseso!!), so I brooded for a day. Finally, my B-day came and my friends wanted me out of the house…and Y-C-F-M got me DMC2!! So I was playing my heart out . It's so easy, though…what a disappointment. I think the only hard thing in the game is to get a stylish mark…mainly because the enemies die only in 2 slashes…I still think it's fun, though.
References In The Story:
If you wonderful people watched the DMCX (I'll just call it [DMC3] that, since it's a preview of DMC) trailer, you'll see Dante punching his jukebox! So I thought DMC should have a memento of that event…since Dante already did this before DMC.
In DMC, the Poster girl had stars on her. In DMC2, she had a bikini on. This chapter explains why.
Also, I was thinking of Inuyasha, and he has white hair (close enough to Dante's silver), and they're both half demon, hence the 'dog' references.
Whoa, I wasted at least 5 mins. of your life Time for storytime! Oh yeah...this story's longer than usual to make up for my delay.
DMC's Capcom's!
CHAPTER 10: The Bikini
Trish collapsed on Dante's worn chair . She was true to her word; she had killed all the remaining three Shadows. However, her limbs were shaking slightly from the exertion of wielding the Sparda sword. She had a feeling that the next morning her whole body would be aching. She still couldn't believe how much strength her 'period' sapped from her; once she and Dante sparred furiously for five hours straight, and she escaped with only a minor tingle in her limbs the day after. And now, after only killing four Shadows, her body was feeling the fruits of her labour. She could hardly get up. Why?!
The female devil decided to not dwell on such things now; she should not let herself get uptight. Instead, she let her eyes roam lazily over Dante's meager furnishings. Big mahogany desk…several old wooden chairs…boxes of half-eaten cold pizza…a drum set…a chipped phone…several pieces of paper on the bare, wooden floor…
In short, a pretty gloomy sort of place. A rug or some plants would do wonders.
The walls weren't much better. On the furthest left, adjourning wall to the front doors, there was a big black patch of charred wood. Dante told her that there used to be a colourful jukebox there, but it didn't work when he wanted it to; besides, he had a demon blade in his left arm then, and his temper just exploded. He punched it, and it exploded as well. End of story. He was a very pissed off teenager.
Trish's eyes then lighted on the smelly heads of werewolves (in different stages of decomposition), masks of sin scythes, death scythes and death scissors skulls…
Trish sighed. She once attempted to scrub off the blood (she had seen some white things crawling around in the liquid; it wasn't exactly appetizing watching them squiggle while choking down a daily dose of pizza). Unfortunately, the work didn't do any good: Dante would come in and stick a new head on the wall.
Finally, Woozy. Not Woozy any more; now the Sparda sword. Unofficially, her sword. It hung precariously parallel to the floor on the pegs meant for a smaller sword (Sparda was three times the size of Woozy). It almost completely hid the poster of the girl beneath it.
The girl.
Something strange twisted Trish's stomach. She wearily lifted herself up and walked over to lift Sparda off its stand, muscles complaining at lifting the sword again. The action revealed the poster of a beautiful woman, right eye moist with want, eye patch over the left. Cascading locks of blonde hair tumbled over slim shoulders. A rocket in the background painted her skin golden. And finally, two small black stars barely concealing her voluptuous curves. A flame of heat rose to Trish's cheeks, and an unconscious frown appeared on her full lips as she examined the picture.
It was perfectly explainable that Dante should have posters of women on his walls…in fact, she should be counting her lucky stars that he didn't put up posters of entirely naked women. But still---this teasing poster of the barely-clad female infuriated her...really bugged her in some way…
An alien rush of possessiveness filled her innards.
Just then, Dante entered the room with 2 glasses of iced water. One silver eyebrow rose, the only indication that he was somewhat surprised to see Trish where she was.
Trish spun around, sensing his presence. She was immediately embarrassed at her being caught staring at the sensuous poster. She hated the feeling of her cheeks burning…it was easier being a devil, where such signs of embarrassment were virtually impossible to detect.
"Water?" She asked teasingly, to divert his attention away from her. She crossed the room casually but quickly, and plopped herself down in his chair again.
"Ran out of red wine," Dante replied. "Didn't get a chance to stock up." He tried to push her out of her chair.
The female looked up at him, and grinned devilishly. She raised her hands, equipped with wicked sharp fingernails. Some yellow sparks buzzed out.
Dante instantly moved away. It was not because of her playful threat, but because he caught the exhausted sheen in her eyes, as well as a faint smudge of black under each eye. Raising his hands in mock defeat, he sat down on the floor, next to her. She tousled his hair.
He growled.
She stopped.
Silence.
Dante took a sip of his water. Savage thirst suddenly rose, and he wolfed it all down. The iciness of the water left him with a slight throbbing in his left temple, but it was pleasant, in a way. "Only water's good after a workout," he said noncommittally. He turned to speak to Trish. "You better drink, Trish. In your condition, you dehydrate fairly quickly."
Silence.
The demon hunter realized that there was something bothering Trish. After a prolonged bout of silence, she said, "I know. I'm just waiting for it to…to warm up." Abruptly, she got up, and walked over to the Rocket Poster, confirming Dante's hunch.
"Um, Dante." A statement. No need to answer it.
He did, anyways. "Yea?"
"This poster…" Trish hesitated.
"Yea?"
"It's kinda…um, kinda strange for me to see it. Too showy. Would it be okay to take it down?"
"Hell, no," Dante's tone was firm. "I like her. She's my rocket girl."
More silence. Trish's back was facing him, her hair shielding her face. But his sense of infrared told him that her cheeks and ears were warmer than the rest of her body. He let out a groan as he lifted himself up from the floor.
When Dante was standing next to Trish, he took a long look at the poster, then turned to the female devil.
"I like her because she looks just like you. 'Fact, I didn't even look at her much 'till you came."
Trish spun around, startled at his words. She desperately searched for an excuse to cover up the sudden swell of feeling in her. All she managed to blurt out was, "She has an eyepatch! She doesn't look like me."
"We could give you an eyepatch, and---" The halfling grinned, and pulled out a black marker from his coat, "---make her top like yours."
"No!" Trish tried to grab the marker from him. She failed. She was 6'2, the same height as he. Her heels would make her two inches taller, but they were kicked haphazardly around the room, and she was too tired to gather them up and put them on. That, and the fact that he was a bit faster than she was: his right arm was a mere blurry cloud in the air.
"What, Trish?" the half-demon teased. "Thought you wanted to make her a bit more modest?"
"But not like me! Compromise?"
"Fine."
"…Bikini?"
"Deal. For you, babe."
The half-man carefully drew a smooth, rounded bikini top over the poster girl. No strings, of course. When he was finished, they both stood back, admiring his artistic modifications.
"Good work," Trish said. The little coverup and connecting the stars did wonders, and it eased her aching heart. The poster girl looked as though she had never worn anything but the bikini top. Now that the matter bothering her was fixed, she was ready to fall asleep. Her eyelids kept dropping down, another strange experience, aside from dreams. When she was a full-blooded devil, under Mundus' service, she slept with her eyes open, if she did sleep. Rest was unnecessary for devils; their energy came from others. Therefore, shallow naps were required to protect oneself from ambushing hungry enemies.
Now, she was sleepy more frequently (she used to go on hunting trips in the wee hours of morning during peaceful times, or whenever Dante was sleeping himself), and her slumber was far more deep, with vivid images (REM, Dante explained to her). Additionally, the less she slept, the more she wanted to sleep. And the more she slept, the more she wanted to sleep.
Dante was saying something. Trish blinked rapidly. "…Pardon?"
"I said, I practice doodling from time to time, of the places I visited. That's why I carry that notebook with me."
"Oh." Trish closed her eyes.
Dante glanced at her, and saw that she had fallen asleep standing. Amused, he experimentally touched her cheek. She did not react. Satisfied that she was deeply asleep, he inched forward, and whispered in her ear: "What I said about that girl and you, was completely true."
The halfling was disturbed to feel his cheeks colouring. With that, he swept her in his arms, proceeding to carry her to her room, where she could sleep properly.
Dante laid Trish gently on her bed, and tenderly tucked her in. He could not deny the affection he felt for her (he would never admit that to anyone, though), and made a mental note to himself that he should watch her sleep occasionally; she was so innocent looking when she slept, and it was rare to see her so peaceful.
"Goodnight, Trish," he whispered to her, and kissed her softly on the forehead. As he shut the door behind him, he rubbed his lips, then his hands on his pants. There was something on them. Frowning, he raised his hands to his face.
Dante was aghast to see bits of skin stuck on his own.
That night, Trish dreamed she was melting, again.