Disclaimer: I don't own it.
She blinked again, not moving to open the cold can in her hands. "Are you serious about this?"
He shrugged, taking the seat at his desk again, chugging his pop. Then he replied, "Why wouldn't I be?"
Grinning, Lady watched him as he took another long drink before saying, "Then I'll stay here, too."
Chapter Three: "The New Roommates"
Dante coughed and sputtered, barely keeping the soda from spewing out his nose. Eyes wide, he coughed, pounding his chest to get the liquid out of his lungs. Lady watched, amused, as he looked back at her with teary eyes. "What!"
She frowned. "You heard me. If you plan on keeping him here." She shrugged. "I'll stay too. You'll need all the help you can get."
"I don't need you're help. I can handle things fine by myself, thank you very much."
She huffed in disbelief, unsnapping a gun from her belt and checking it over. "I shot you in the head, didn't I?" She looked at him pointedly.
Dante chuckled nervously at this, rubbing the back of his head, remembering vividly that exact moment. It was… the second time they had met and he still didn't know what had transpired to cause her to fall from the balcony on the Temen-ni-gru. He had been there right at the perfect time and had caught her ankle as she fell passed him. To make a long story short, she wanted him to let go but he didn't. And she ended up shooting him square in the forehead to make him. He had to admit, though, she did have pretty good aim for a human. "That doesn't prove anything."
Drawing another gun from her belt, Lady cocked the guns before pointing them at the silver haired demon slayer. "Oh," she said sweetly, "Should I prove myself now?"
He gave her a look that said 'Are you serious?' "Uh, no thanks," he replied, leaning the chair back on two legs. "I've had enough bullets in the head for one day."
She set the guns by her side, looking questioningly at Dante, her mind elsewhere. "Dante, did you experience any sudden pain when we were running here?"
He yawned, stretching. "Should I have?" Then, as if getting caught in the thought, he turned accusingly and gave her a hard stare. "You didn't shoot me in the back did you? Because if you did—" His whining trailed off into grumbles as he stood and tried to see his back, feeling for any bullet holes.
"So when does the sleepyhead upstairs wake up?"
"Who knows," he replied, still trying to look at his back, "I think I hit him to hard though…"
Lady sighed, muttering, "What have I gotten myself into?"
!-!-!
The room was dark, a few floating glass orbs filled with fire shining an ominous glow upon its inhabitants. The floor was covered by mold and pebbles coving the ancient gray stone that served as the floor. A tall, silver throne sat in the dead center and beside it was a golden altar. The walls and ceiling were endless shadows.
The pale, skimpy leather wearing lady was standing patiently at the foot of the throne, her boot tapping impatiently. The chessboard hovered before her. "Arkain, Arkain, Arkain," she murmured, "always, always, late."
"So. Where is he?" A young voice asked from behind her.
"I don't know," she replied, dryly, "I know I was doing something important. You were supposed to keep him in line."
The younger girl walked into view, a sour expression on her face. "What were you doing this time? A manicure? Pedicure? Or was it just eye make up?"
The older lady twirled a strand of blonde hair on her finger. "You wish. You're just jealous that I have something important to say." She turned and faced her, smirking. "And you don't."
The younger girl frowned, glaring back into cold crimson eyes. She was shorter than her sister by at least three inches and had long black hair braided into many braids. Crimson eyes looked out from alabaster skin and gazed over the older lady's form in disgust. Hey, the leather was alright, she even wore it but… that was way too much skin! "Pride would be proud."
The other chuckled. "She always is, yes?" she twirled. "Besides, it does look good on me, doesn't it?"
"We're not here to talk about clothes, ladies."
The two looked passed the throne to see a man with short, spiky crimson hair emerge from the darkness and stride confidently to the throne. He had long black pants that fell over black boots and a knee length, black trench coat that was open to show a hard, red tattooed stomach. At least three gold chains hung around his neck and his left ear was pierced at both the top and bottom. He, too, had pale skin and hard, red eyes. A strand of the tattoo marking on his chest enveloped his right eye and disappeared into his hairline. Two swords were strapped to his belt and he held a large, frosted orb in his hand.
"Arkain," the two murmured in unison.
He sat regally, crossing his legs and setting the orb on the altar. "Queen, what did you find?"
"See for yourself." She made a pushing motion towards the momentarily forgotten chessboard and it hovered towards him.
Arkain watched as three white pieces—the rook, the knight and the king—retreated to their side, tailed by many black pawns. When the pieces stopped, the rook destroyed all the pawns before returning. Then the board rippled like water, showing Dante setting Vergil on the bed, Dante and Lady arguing and so forth. After a moment, he asked, "Myth, have you seen this?"
"No, brother," the younger girl replied, "I just arrived."
He gestured and Queen reluctantly moved the chessboard to her. Myth watched the scene play, solemnly, murmuring, "Sparda's sons."
We need them for my plan to work. Bring them here, alive.
"Perhaps," Arkain mused aloud, "We should leave them for awhile. Let them get used to each other before we strike. I want to see their faces when we tear them apart."
Ahh, the voice replied after a moment's hesitation, I see your plan.
Everyone in the room was silent as the voice considered the options.
Watch them. Learn their weaknesses. I'll give them three days, and then we'll send an invitation they can't refuse.
!-!-!
Vergil woke with a start, sitting up quickly and earning himself a massive headache. Raising a gloved hand to his forehead, he looked around the unfamiliar room—
—And came face-to-face with his twin. "Good morning, sleepy head," Dante exclaimed cheerfully. He was sitting backwards in a chair, his arms draped across its top casually. "Glad to see you're up. You've wasted most of the morning." He gestured outside.
It was pouring.
Vergil just stared at his twin, sensing that something was amiss. Dante's hair was wet and clung to his face. He sat shirtless and his tanned pants fell to his bare ankles. His character and appearance seemed the same, but he still couldn't shake the feeling…
And the idiot had left Yamato beside him on the bed.
He smiled a false smile. "I'm glad to be up, too." Then, in a flash, he unsheathed his katana and slashed Dante, cleanly chopping off the top of the chair and his brother.
Dante's body disappeared into smoke.
Vergil blinked. That was too easy, and the smoke proved it.
"Oh come now," an all too familiar voice drawled from the doorway, "Is that anyway to treat you're little brother, Vergil?"
The older twin turned.
Lady was standing in the doorway, guns trailed on Vergil's form but what amazed him (and Lady) most was standing next to her. Dante was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. Dull, pupil less blue eyes danced with amusement.
That was it! His eyes!
"After all," Dante's voice continued at his side. "You did just wake up."
Vergil frowned and moved to stand.
"Make one move," Lady snarled, "And I'll pump you full of lead."
The older twin smirked, cold eyes boring into her. "Like that'll do much." He stood.
Dante Two, the one standing beside him, pushed him back down. "I can vouch for her." He—it—pointed to its forehead. "Those bullets sting!"
Vergil snarled slashing the clone with Yamato.
"Vergil!" Dante One scolded mockingly, "You'll have to keep that temper down, if you're gonna be staying here!" He shook a finger at him.
"As much as the thought thrills me," the older twin replied dryly, standing again and sheathing Yamato. "I fear I must decline. I have much to do, you see." He walked towards the door.
Lady's guns stopped him. "The invitation was a one way ticket: you stay but you don't leave."
He rested his hand on the hilt of his katana, his eyes hardening. "Try and stop me."
Review please!