Disclaimer: If I owned Devil May Cry, would I be writing a characters strike back fic?

I'm trying to do my DMC stuff more 'realistic' in a sense then the games, so there's a lot of IRL stuff. For example, the US used to be involved in setting up puppet dictatorial regimes in Central/South America during the Cold War to stem the spread of communism (like we put Saddam in power in Iraq.) so a lot of people there don't like America even if religion isn't involved. And then there's the World Bank… And the CIA is barred from operating in the US.

Again, this is Lady around 15 years after DMC3. 15 years of hanging out with criminals and, god help her, Dante. Hence, she's less psycho and has a sense of humor. I'm also giving her some familiarity with technology, as look at her gear. And Dante's nationality is definitely not canon, but this is set in the same 'verse as my Rapture series, and Sparda is 'Swiss' in that. Oh, and Dante had an interesting youth. Read the manga.

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Trish dialed the number for the Protector's Office of the Vie du Mariian Government. No real separation of church and state there, especially as it was churches. Matier, and soon Lucia, was in the unenviable position of being High Priestess and 'rituals monitor' to around 500 tribes' ceremonies honoring approximately 200 gods, some of them possibly even mythical and a lot of them dead, killed by Mundus.

After all, only those with the blood of the gods were certain to be listened to on questions of, yes, I know your tribal records show that your rain god used to like a human sacrifice every so often, and I know there hasn't been as much water in the stream recently, but he changed his mind centuries ago, and the water shortage is because Arius' demons destroyed a section of the aqueduct.

Tribes from all over Europe and Africa had fled the persecution of all devil-worshippers that had arisen after Mundus' invasion, and been joined by American tribes fleeing colonization centuries later. They didn't so much have a Creole language as a complete mass of linguistic chaos. Anthropologists were going nuts trying to get visas, but the Vie du Mariian government had closed the borders until the damage caused by Arius could be repaired. Not that they liked 'fishbait,' as they called outsiders, at the best of times there. The UN was in an uproar.

Trish wondered if the Country Code for Vie du Marii, 666, had been assigned by one of the people who scorned them as superstitious pagans, regarded them as Satanists, or by the Vie du Mariians themselves as yet another sign of contempt for the no-god fools who had first tried to exterminate, then colonize, then dominate, then economically control them.

Trish drummed her pencil on the desk waiting as the call was forwarded, watching Dante, who seemed to be thinking about something. But he shook himself awake when they both heard the phone begin to ring. "This is the Protector in Waiting of the Island of the Gods. I am currently…"

"Lucia?" Trish said into the phone, puzzled.

"Trish?" Lucia asked, puzzled. "Why are you calling me when I am upstairs?" Her English was improving, but it was still a little awkward, as the language wasn't commonly spoken there.

"I was trying to call Matier." Trish explained. "I think it forwarded me to your cell."

Lucia jumped down and poked her head through the door. "Matier is presiding over the rituals to beg the forgiveness of Despaia after the outlander provoked his wrath. It is very unkind of the outsiders to always try to steal his power. It always makes him very angry. Thank you, Son of Sparda, for coming to our aid." Trish smiled: Lucia was cute when she was formal.

Dante glared at her. Yeah, you only think it's cute because she couldn't come up with a title for you. Adopted-Sister-of-a-Son-of-Sparda doesn't quite work. He was working on her, and she was calling him Dante more often, but, well, for a High Priestess in training it was reasonable for her to feel awkward about disrespecting the Gods. But he was not a god. "Rituals?"

"As he is a God of Fire, there will be burnt offerings at the springs that are sacred to him," Lucia said earnestly.

Translation: barbeque at the hot springs. And probably skinny dipping and mass quantities of rum. No wonder Matier had wanted to drop Lucia off with him. You had to admire the islanders' approach to religion. Except for the bit about building a cathedral to him. That was just embarrassing. But if even Pops hadn't managed to get out of it (the place where the coin Arcana was kept was dedicated to him), how the hell was he going to? "When are they finishing up?'

"A week," Lucia said mournfully. Poor girl was probably missing her mother already. Reminded him… and he just bet that was why the old witch had dropped her off with him. Woman looked like a harmless old bat… Why did he have to have this weakness for helping people? He should introduce her to his old coping mechanisms. That would make Matier just wish she'd kept the girl around for only moderate rum and orgies.

Don't make her homesick, idiot. "I found a camera on the grounds, and I wanted Matier to get your guys to ask around and see if it was the CIA or anything." He had to speak a little louder to be heard over the noises that were coming from Ebony and Ivory's video game.

Lucia nodded. "The CIA, yes… Matier told me they tried to have us conquered many times." Evil outlanders. "But I thought they were not allowed to do things inside your country?"

Dante shook his head. "Not my country, I'm Swiss, and that's what they want you to think."

Lucia clearly wouldn't put it past them. "I will call." She closed the door and jumped back into the loft.

A few seconds later, Trish was about to ask Dante something when they heard footsteps on the stairs and the door banged open. "Three shots. How can I get tipsy on three shots? I never get out of gang negotiating sessions without knocking back half a dozen so they think I'm macho enough to hire." Lady griped, walking through the office to the other half of the complex, where Dante's and Trish's quarters were. "And don't get up, I know where the towels are."

"Camera." Dante said.

She stopped. "And I bet you bashed it, didn't you. You bash everything. Where is it?"

"In the alley." He pointed out the door.

Lady raised an eyebrow. "You go get it. You break it, you bring back the bits. Like my bike."

Dante winced. Trish looked up. Bike?

"After all, you were the one who thought that humans shouldn't do things when there were big strong demons around to do it for them." She batted her eyelashes at him, grinning.

"You know, I liked you more when you were racist and homicidal. I don't know what the bald nutjob was thinking. You," he pointed at her as he went to the double doors, "were never a good girl, let alone innocent. Pure? Maybe. But pure what, I don't want to know." They both were grinning now.

"Bite me. So I have an excuse to shoot you," Lady suggested.

Dante laughed, and went to go get the camera. He and Lady spread it out on the floor and tried to identify the source from the components while Lucia called, Trish took calls, and Ebony and Ivory giggled at the strange sounds coming from their game.

Then, suddenly, they started laughing hysterically. Ebony yelled for Alastor, who landed on the ground and started yelling something about that wasn't him! Funny, it hadn't looked like a game that would have vampires in it…

"Daddy, daddy, come see!" Ebony and Ivory ran through the side door. "We just beat up Alastor!"

"That is not me! Even if it does have my name!" Alastor followed, shaking his fist.

Dante rolled his eyes and let them drag him off to see what the fuss was all about.

…a chibi version of Alastor in his armor? Named Alastor? With lightening powers? What the hell? "Trish? Lady? You might want to come see this…"