Author's Note:
Just to warn you all, this is a weird chapter. I don't know about anyone else, but I've always enjoyed dream sequences. They allow for a little bit of experimentation with characters and imagery, and they can also be a lot of fun. The dreams in this chapter are all a little different. The first one is the kind I often like writing in my stories--the kind that's not a typical dream, but more of a lucid dream created or manipulated by magic or other such forces. The second is heavily influenced by X (by CLAMP) with mildly disturbing imagery. Also a little RahXephon influence, I suppose. The third is more random. Normal dreams (at least the ones I have which I suppose aren't really that normal after all) are usually very little like the dreams portrayed in stories or on TV. They are completely disjointed and nonsensical. I attempted to write the last dream more like a real dream, which allowed me to get all quirky again. Overall though, I suppose all the dreams have one thing in common--they've definitely got some "id" going on as Freud would term it.
This chapter also gives a little Dante back-story, though I didn't want to simply retell the first game so I kept it subtle and didn't go into a lot of detail. I hope it's not confusing to anyone, but I didn't want to lose my WHR fans by going too much into Devil May Cry. If you have questions, I'd be happy to answer them.
:Revision Information: So, I promised myself I wouldn't do this… but here we are. I'm such a freakin' perfectionist that I agonize over things forever, but I've tried to force myself to get over it by not holding onto chapters forever and rewriting them a million times. And also by not allowing myself to go back and change chapters that have already been posted. I may fix grammatical errors and such in my master copy, but I don't allow myself to rewrite anything. That's the challenge of serial fiction like this, and I like that fact. But… this chapter has been bugging me for a while. Devil May Cry 3 hadn't even been announced when I introduced Dante into this story, and DMC2 felt like it had nothing to do with DMC canon, so I based my understanding of the characters and plot on the first game only.
Then, DMC3 came out and punched holes through most of my understanding of Dante's back story. It's a prequel to the first game and reveals a lot about Dante's relationship with his brother, Vergil. I was going to continue my story as if DMC3 had never happened, but I kind of like what they did with Vergil and now I can't think of his character any other way. So, this chapter was bugging me and it's difficult to mention things about Dante's past and family without mentioning Vergil, so… I changed it. I only changed the first section, the dream Dante has about Vergil. I changed as little as possible—just enough to get Vergil more in character, so I suppose it doesn't really matter if you reread it or not, though you might be confused later on if you don't.
Chapter 15
These Dreams
Dante lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. How ironic. He had told everyone he was going to sleep well, yet here he was, still awake at three in the morning. He must have jinxed himself out of a good night's sleep. Blinking lazily through the gloom at the tiny flecks of glitter embedded in the popcorn texture of the ceiling, he listened to the rhythmic sound of Trish's breathing and willed himself to sleep before she started snoring again. Exhuastion finally taking over, he slowly felt the hotel room around him fading as sleep claimed him. Then he felt himself falling.
What he hadn't expected was to land—
—face first on a hill covered with daisies. He pushed himself up into a crouch instinctively, surveying the area around him. A figure dressed in blue sat next to him on the hillside. Eerily familiar silver hair fluttered around the man's face as he turned to look at Dante. "I didn't expect to see you here so soon…Dante."
Dante's breath caught in his throat. "Vergil?" his voice cracked on the name.
"Do you have another twin brother?"A small smile curved Vergil's lips.
"Not that I know of," Dante answered brusquely. "What are you doing here, Vergil?" He sat down next to his brother reluctantly. He realized now that this was a dream, but just because he was dreaming did not mean he wasn't vulnerable. This dream already seemed almost too vivid—too real—to be normal.
"Take a look around," Vergil commented, gesturing broadly at the hillside around them. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm pushing up daisies."
Dante choked on an unexpected laugh. "That was a bad joke"
"You've told worse," Vergil replied, looking at him seriously with blue eyes which mirrored Dante's own. "Still wearing the pendant, I see." He tapped a finger against the crimson pendant resting against Dante's chest. "What happened when you joined my half with yours, anyway?"
"It helped me to defeat Mundus. That's all that matters," Dante said reluctantly. "Back then... when I first saw you in that castle…Vergil, I didn't realize it was you. You know that, don't you?"
Vergil shrugged, laying back in the grass. "What difference does it make? We've tried to kill each other before. Don't tell me you got sentimental over it. If you hadn't killed me, you know I would have killed you." He looked up at Dante, pushing himself up on his elbows. "That's not why you're here, is it? To make peace with me?"
"Hell no," Dante replied with more resolve than he felt.
"Good." Vergil pursed his lips. "There will never be peace between us. You know that."
Dante smiled sadly. "There was peace once."
"And then we grew up."
"Right." Laughing ironically under his breath, Dante thought about Vergil's response; maybe they just hadn't grown up enough. Then, more softly, he added, "I don't know why I'm here." He swept his gaze over the endlessly blue horizon; not even a white puff of a cloud disrupted the solid hue of the sky. "I have to admit I wouldn't have expected to run into you in a place like this though. I thought you wanted to stay in the demon world…and after I…after you died I figured you'd end up in hell anyway."
He could feel Vergil's eyes on him and he glanced at his brother, unsurprised by the hatred burning in his blue eyes. What did surprise him was the hint of something else—something resembling respect... or maybe even affection. How two such opposing emotions could be coexisting on his features, Dante had no idea. "I tried to live in our father's world, Dante. I thought I could do anything he had done, with or without his power. I thought I could defeat the prince of darkness, but I was wrong."
Dante observed him for a few moments. "So, you got tired of the underworld. I still can't believe you'd rather hang out in a place like this. Even I don't expect to end up here."
Vergil raised an eyebrow at him. "In a field of daisies?"
"No." Dante turned a withering look on his brother. "In heaven."
Vergil's mocking laugh caught Dante by surprise. "You think this is heaven?"
"Well, it certainly doesn't look like hell," Dante retorted defensively. "And I don't think we're in the human world."
Vergil sat up suddenly, his expression solemn. "You're dreaming, Dante. This can be anywhere you like. But it's not heaven. I don't think even you have so little imagination."
Dante shrugged. "I've been worse places."
"Take a look around," Vergil said, gesturing to the endless monotonous hills of daisies and the flat blue sky. "If heaven is this boring, then it's no wonder devils have no interest in it."
"Fine. I'll bite." Dante leaned back, resting his palms on the grass behind him. "If we're not in heaven, where are we?"
Shaking his head in disgust, Vergil answered in that quiet tone of his that never ceased to get on Dante's nerves. "Purgatory."
"Ah," Dante said, nodding as he gave their surroundings another glance. "That makes sense."
"It should. You created this place in your own mind, anyway."
Looking at Vergil out of the corner of his eye, Dante asked quietly, "So, I created you out of my memories then, too, didn't I?"
Vergil turned his attention to him, his expression haughty and unreadable. "Perhaps."
Not liking Vergil's mysterious answer, Dante returned his attention to the horizon, only to notice a dark, ominous bank of clouds moving swiftly across the sky, casting a dark shadow across the field of daisies. "What's that?" he asked, feeling fear coiling deep inside him though he wasn't sure why.
Vergil did not react to the changing sky, his voice still quiet and calm. "You have to stay focused, Dante. You have a new enemy to worry about."
Smirking, Dante replied, "They just never stop coming."
Turning his intense gaze back on Dante, Vergil said, "This one is different. Our father's power might not be enough. Even our father—" He looked back at the horizon suddenly, pushing himself into a crouch.
"Brother."Dante shuddered at the sound of the voice, low and distant like the mutter of thunder. "Brother,"it said again, this time closer. Dante rose to his feet and turned in a circle, scanning the now darkened horizon for the source of the voice. A feminine silhouette on a hill in the distance caught his attention. She was framed by the last patch of blue sky and raising her arms in welcome. "I am here, brother. I am waiting."
"Beatrice," Dante growled in response, finally recognizing the voice, annoyance burning in him at the woman's audacity to call him brother. "I am not your brother."
Suddenly Beatrice was standing with them on the hillside, dark hair billowing in the wind. "You cannot deny me. I am your half-sister, whether you choose to face the truth or not."
Vergil looked up at Beatrice with his piercing gaze. "That's ridiculous," he snapped.
Beatrice shifted her focus to Vergil with a smile. "I didn't realize you still had such guilt over our brother's memory, Dante." Taking a step toward Vergil, she traced a fingertip over his cheek slowly and turned to look at Dante. "Perhaps there is still hope if you regret his death this much. You can't bear to be the murderer of your own sibling."
Dante's eyes narrowed. "I regret that Vergil was not himself when he died. But I was not unwilling to kill him if that was what it took to stop his thirst for power. I'll regret your death far less." He took a step toward her. "I refuse to believe we're related, but I'll accept the possibility you're a devil."
"Half-demon," she clarified. "As are you. And if you are making accusations, remember, sweet Dante, that your lover is more demon than either of us."
"But you have embraced your demon side, just like Vergil." Vergil did not reply, merely looking at him with that aloof expression again. "As for Trish, she has rejected her ancestry just as my father did."
"As our father did," Beatrice insisted. "Our father was a fool who chose poorly. The door was meant to open, and the demons were meant to dominate. It is the way of things."
"No," Dante replied, his voice taut with anger as he backed away slowly, hands reaching instinctively for the guns at his belt but coming up empty. "You are the one who has chosen poorly. And we will stop you."
A melodic laugh bubbled up from her slender throat. "We? You mean you and those witch hunters? They can't stop me. The only one of them who might have the power doesn't know how to use it. And she will be mine before the sun sets again. I'm through using tools to get to her. She will come to me on her own."
"Robin?" Dante demanded. "What do you intend to do to her?"
"She will follow me because she wishes it." Beatrice smiled sadly. "I wish you would follow me as well, Dante. It's too bad Vergil isn't still alive instead of you. He would have understood." She turned back to Vergil, tracing her fingertips over his jaw with a smile.
Eyes narrowed, Vergil slapped her hand away. "You don't know anything about me. I always wanted to be an only child, but one sibling is more than enough."
"Why do you deny me, Dante?" Beatrice's eyes were burning when she refocused them on Dante. Wind swept over the hillside then, whipping through their hair and forcing Dante to squint against the debris it scattered in its wake. "Are you so naive as to think our father denied his demon tendencies entirely? Did you think that your mother was the only woman he ever touched?"
Dante was at the limit of his patience. "That's enough! Your threats mean nothing to me, bitch. I will find you and I will destroy you. And I swear, if you touch Robin or Trish, I'll kill you twice. You got that?"
The wind picked up speed, obscuring Dante's vision to the point of sightlessness, and he felt himself falling again, the hillside around him crumbling into nothingness. "You cannot stop me, Dante." The voice was not Beatrice's. It was deeper and more resonating, yet still familiar to him; it sounded vaguely like his father's voice. "The door will open, and the world will be mine."
"Eat shit and die!" Dante snarled back at the voice, knowing it made itself sound familiar to him only in an attempt to manipulate him. "You open that door and you'd better just watch so it doesn't hit ya where the good Lord split ya, 'cause it'll be closing again just as fast!"
"Be careful, Dante." This time it was Vergil's voice speaking to him in a fervent whisper. "Even father couldn't completely defeat this one…"
"Dante! Stop shaking me, you big oaf!"
Dante came to suddenly, finding Trish's face inches away from his own, his hands gripping her slender arms tightly as he shook her angrily. "What the hell?" he murmured softly, releasing her.
"That's what I'd like to know," Trish snapped back.
He threaded his fingers through his disheveled hair. "Sorry… I was dreaming."
"Well, I'd hope so. I'd hate to think you attacked me in my sleep because you wanted to." She snatched the covers back over her and rolled over, turning her back to him. "You drank too much at that bar tonight. You always have crazy dreams when you're drunk, and somehow it always ends up interfering with my sleep."
"That's exactly what I need right now," he said thoughtfully. "A drink."
"You're pathetic," she muttered against her pillow, already drifting off to sleep again.
"Whatever, Trish…"
-----
"Amon." He followed the sound of his name, knowing it had come from her lips and knowing he must find her.
He was outside of his body, watching from just beyond the darkness encircling the surreal scene below. His body was knelt down on the marble floor, hundreds of silver threads slung from the darkness above wrapping around his torso and arms, keeping him upright with his arms spread out to either side. The threads were so fine they had cut into him in several places, drawing vivid red lines against his pale naked skin. His eyes opened slowly and suddenly he was inside his body, looking out, feeling the chill marble against his knees and the sharp razor edges of the threads incising his flesh.
Robin stood before him, dressed in a clinging, floor-length gown made of black lace, her ghostly white skin showing through in places where the lace was woven loosely. She smiled at him from behind the loose tendrils of hair framing her heart-shaped face before bending over him, cradling his head in her arms and pressing a kiss against the crown of his head. Her touch thawed his icy skin with an almost painful heat, and he leaned toward her, burying his face against her stomach, letting her warmth permeate his body. "Robin," he whispered against a patch of bare skin just above her navel. "I'm sorry."
Her hands had slipped beneath the threads crisscrossing his back as she curled herself over him, encircling him with her warmth. He shivered at the intimacy of her touch as her fingertips paused at his lower back. The sudden agony of her fingernails rending his flesh caused him to gasp in pain. "It's too late for apologies," she whispered in his ear before tracing a path to his mouth with her tongue, leaving a trail of fiery heat behind.
Straining against the threads binding him, he struggled to pull away from her as he was struck by an overwhelming sense of wrongness. "What is it, Amon?" Robin asked suddenly, crouching down in front of him, her bloodied fingers weaving through his hair before clutching his head firmly between her hands. Her smile was no longer innocent, and her green eyes were darkened with lust. "Can the seductor not stand being seduced?" The tip of her tongue darted out to lick her lips languidly as her gaze raked over his body.
"You're not my Robin," he whispered hoarsely, panic entering his voice as he clamped his eyes shut to block out the image of Robin looking at him with such sinful thoughts in her eyes. "This is wrong."
"If this is wrong, what would be right?"
His eyes snapped open and he found himself fully clothed and dressed in his usual attire, looking down into Robin's once again childlike eyes. He was pinning her to the ground, his hands clamped down on her wrists and the weight of his body preventing her from moving. She arched her body up against his ever so slightly, eliciting a moan from him before he could hold it back.
"Is this what you want?" she whispered.
"No!" he cried, crawling away from her quickly and rising to his feet. He buried his face in his hands as he stumbled away, wanting to crawl out of his own skin. "Not like this."
"You really are a coward, aren't you?" The voice was not Robin's.
Amon jerked his gaze up quickly enough to risk whiplash as he searched for the owner of the voice. He was now standing in front of an ivory throne in the middle of a vast cathedral-like space filled with serpentine columns. Dante lounged on the throne, regarding him silently. "A coward afraid of a fifteen year old girl." Dante turned his attention to Robin who was half sitting on the throne and half leaning against him with an arm draped around his shoulders. He traced a fingertip over her cheek and down her neck to the ruffled collar of her pure white dress. She leaned into his touch and he closed the distance between them, pausing just before he claimed her lips. Amon looked sharply away.
"You can't even watch, can you?" Dante laughed brusquely. "You are one pathetic human being. You refuse her, and yet you couldn't stand to see anyone else touch her."
Returning his gaze reluctantly to the demon hunter, Amon saw Robin standing between them now, her hair blowing in an unfelt wind and her face glowing with an angelic light. She lifted her hands and a ring of fire erupted around him, consuming him in an instant.
Amon's awoke with a start, shivering at the chill morning air against his damp skin, slick with sweat. Concentrating on controlling his breathing, he gradually managed to slow his heart rate to sub-light speed. These dreams had to stop. He'd thought that perhaps his desires would have cooled down a bit after he finally allowed himself to touch Robin, but they had, in fact, intensified exponentially. Unfortunately, his guilt had intensified at the same rate as well.
Glancing at the window, still open a crack and spilling in cold air, he noted that the sun hadn't even peeked over the horizon yet. The clock by his bed screamed 4:00 in bright blue numbers. Squinting at the light, he came to the decision he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. Even if he could manage to fall asleep again, it wouldn't be worth the risk of another nightmare. Robin haunted him enough when he was awake.
Crawling out of bed and grabbing the t-shirt he'd discarded during the night, he reached for a pair of socks and his tennis shoes. Pulling his hair back into a hasty ponytail, he grabbed his keys and strapped on his gun before heading out for his morning run. It was earlier than he normally liked to exercise, but he would get far more benefit from the exertion than he would from sitting around in his apartment brooding.
-----
Ding-dong.
Sakaki jumped down off his pink flamingo and ran into the kitchen. "Oh boy! A visitor!" He opened the microwave door to find Doujima, Karasuma and Robin on the other side, dressed up as Rikku, Paine and Yuna in Final Fantasy X-2 attire. He grinned wickedly as he looked at the scantily clad girls.
"Hiya!" Doujima cried, tossing her scarf back over her shoulder and pulling a huge brown paper bag out of an invisible pocket. "I brought you a present!" As she spoke she made a number of strange, unnecessary gestures.
"Oh boy! A present!" Sakaki cried, grabbing the bag from her as the other girls let themselves inside his apartment and sat down in front of the refrigerator. Ripping the bag to shreds, he found a brand new, shiny video game with a way cool picture of Dante on the front. "Oh boy! Let's play!" Plugging the game into his refrigerator, he opened the door, and it turned into a huge TV. "Widescreen!" he ordered. "Woooooaaaaaaah."Amazingly awesome graphics began flooding the now even huge-er screen and Sakaki wiped the drool off his chin.
"Let's rock, baby," Dante said through the enormous speaker hidden behind the toaster.
"Wow . . ." Sakaki mused for a moment before hitting the start button.
Soon he found himself punching buttons frantically and watching Dante tumble and leap through various rooms of a an ancient castle, destroying pink bunnies and green dinosaurs with a huge amorphous sword-thing that could change shape and size. Stabbing the sharp pointy thing into the final bunny in a room, Sakaki sighed with satisfaction as a video sequence began. Dante was standing in the middle of a museum room with paintings blanketing every wall. Suddenly, a dark figure stepped out of one of the paintings, facing Dante with his back to the screen.
"I'm scared, Haruto," Doujima whimpered, wrapping her arms around one of Sakaki's and curling up against him.
The sound of Dante's laughter made Sakaki drag his attention back to the screen. "This is the last place I would have expected to run into someone with some guts," Dante stated, pacing back and forth in front of the figure. Sakaki noticed the stranger was wearing a pink tutu over his black trench coat.
The camera angle lurched suddenly, spinning to face the dark figure and Sakaki yelped when he saw Amon's angry expression. "Let's end this," Amon growled, pulling out a ludicrously colossal water gun.
Suddenly Sakaki's view of the TV was obscured by Robin as she plastered herself to the screen, her hands stroking over the area which showed Amon's face. "Robin!" Sakaki screamed despairingly. "You're getting smudgies on the screen!" A giant bottle of Windex came plummeting down from some immeasurable height above and crushed Robin into the deep pile carpeting.
On the TV, Amon and Dante were dueling on top of a wide platform overflowing with rose petals. A choir was singing nonsensical lyrics as they fought. "Ammonite! Swordfish leaping! Dromedary! Narwhales lost at sea! Mesozoic era!" Dante's sword transformed into a scythe and he chopped Amon's water gun in half. Then, with a flourish, he cut the rose blossom in Amon's breast pocket away from its stem.
"The Rose Bride belongs to me," Dante stated, beckoning to Robin who was now standing on the platform next to them, no longer crushed under the bottle of Windex in Sakaki's room.
Amon cackled suddenly, holding up a ring of keys hanging from a miniature gun blade. "But you can't drive the car if you don't have the keys!"
"Hey!" a boy dressed in a bizarre outfit with mismatched shorts and sleeves cried, arms crossed over his mostly bare chest as he glared at the two men. "This is MY story!"
"Who the hell are you?" Dante demanded.
"I'm Tidus! And I'm an awesome blitzball player. And I hate my dad. And, uh, yeah, this is MY story!"
"What a whiner that kid is . . ." a deep, mysterious voice said from off screen. Suddenly, a tall, monocular man dressed in crimson (rather like Dante, in that respect) pulled an enormous sake jug out of the loop on his belt and whacked the whiny young man over the head with it. "That's how it's done." He pushed the sunglasses up on his nose.
"Sakaki," Karasuma said suddenly, with Paine-like sarcasm. "This is boring."
"I've gotta admit, I'm kind of bored too," Dante said from the TV.
"Yeah, I could think of some more interesting things to do," Doujima agreed, pawing at Sakaki's t-shirt.
"Oh boy!" Sakaki cried.
The sound of the alarm clock blaring from his bedroom with the decibel level of a tornado siren jarred Sakaki from his dream with cruel abruptness. He found himself twisted into an uncomfortable pretzel on the floor in front of his TV, the Playstation controller still gripped in his hands. Dawn light was creeping in through the windows and he realized he had fallen asleep playing video games again. "Damn!"
-----
The pale glow of dawn filtered through her eyelashes as Robin cracked her eyes open ever so slightly. She groaned in annoyance at her internal clock's insistence on keeping the old routine from her years at the convent. Rolling onto her back, she looked up at the white expanse of ceiling above her, the blank canvas serving as a background for projecting her memories of the night before. The scenes replayed themselves before her eyes, and she squirmed in embarrassment at her behavior. She had acted so boldly, with little thought to the consequences of her actions. Shame washed over her as she realized what kind of foolish mistakes she might have made if Amon hadn't stopped them both when he did.
Until last night she had always had faith in her ability to stay true to her personal moral code. She had avoided temptation and the "near occasion of sin" quite efficiently, though she had never really doubted her ability to refuse carnal desires without a second thought. Now, everything had changed. She felt immoral and corrupt when she realized that she was very uncertain whether or not she could keep herself from trying to touch Amon if he were to walk into her room right this moment. And if he were to reach for her first? She didn't know how far she'd be willing to let him go without even making an effort to stop him. How had things changed so quickly? Since when had she allowed herself to be so ruled by her desires?
Of course, she had to remind herself that until last night she had never seen a man without his shirt before, let alone experienced a real kiss. Amon had been right. Her hormones had been driving her decision-making process. That could not continue. She had to take control of her body and stop allowing it to make choices for her.
Determined, she crawled out of bed and stumbled over to the closet, surveying her new wardrobe with a frown. Doujima had coerced her into buying most of her new clothes on the assumption that she wanted to draw Amon's attention. Now, his attention was the last thing she needed. And yet, part of her did not want to go back to her usual attire once again. It had not made things any easier the day before.
Luckily, she had managed to convince Doujima to allow her to purchase a handful of more conservative outfits, which she could now convince herself were a happy medium for the two halves of her conflicted mind. Pulling out a dark red shirt with a high neckline, three-quarter length sleeves and tapered cuffs, she decided it was certainly conservative enough for her needs.
Now, for the other half of the outfit. She frowned at the slacks Doujima had picked out for her. They were tailored and fit her figure perfectly--but that was the problem. They fit too perfectly and showed too much of her shape. Instead, she reached for a heavy, ankle-length black skirt. It wasn't as full as her dress, but it hid nearly as much. Fiddling with a loose strand of straw-colored hair, she wondered what she should do with her hair. Quickly, she decided her old hairstyle would suffice. Amon had liked her hair down too much, and she couldn't braid it herself like Doujima had for her.
Decisions made, she headed for the bathroom, avoiding looking around too much on the way; seeing Touko's things scattered throughout the apartment reminded her of thoughts she would rather not think about. Though Robin was positive her now absent roommate hadn't been in her right mind when she'd attacked her, she still wondered how much of Touko's anger--how many of her vindictive words--had been real. Remembering Amon's kiss and the longing in his touch, she could understand a little bit of Touko's feelings. If Touko had known Amon felt the way he did about her, she certainly had reason to be envious. Touko's feelings were completely natural viewed from that perspective, and yet the thought of what misery she was in fact jealous of was rather ironic.
Smiling sadly at that thought, Robin started to run hot water for a bath. Amon may have feelings for her, but Robin knew now that there could never be a happy ending for the two of them. Doujima had been right. At its best, theirs was nothing more than a tragic love story.
--------
Hmm, I'm not sure why only the boys got dreams. It just kind of happened that way. I'm sure Robin had some nice dreams, though, if you know what I mean. Too bad she's all angsty now too, but I just had to acknowledge the fact that she would surely be feeling a little bit of guilt over her actions. Plus she's got the whole "I'm not worthy" complex going on.
Anyway, a couple references, in case anyone's wondering: "MPod" is a nickname for the director of the church choir I was in back at school who mentioned once that he would be the one running the bar in purgatory. Really random, and yet really funny to me, so I couldn't help but throw it in. Also, when Virgil talks about the drinks in purgatory "leaving you thirsty," I was thinking of the Enertron in Chrono Trigger. It refills your HP/MP, but leaves you feeling hungry . . . Lastly, if you didn't get the reference to the fight on a platform overflowing with rose petals, I was referring to Revolutionary Girl Utena, both the movie and the series. I wish I could have found a way to work in the car wash . . .
To Chibi Tenshi: shakes confetti out of hair with a smile Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying my characterizations. Hope I can keep it up! It occurred to me when I was writing the Amon shower scene that we never see Amon in any clothes other than his "usual attire" during the whole season, let alone in no clothes. And his "usual attire" shows absolutely no skin at all--except for his neck (I'm a fan of necks). But it's still so unfair!
To Sesshomarusgirl123: I don't recall ever saying this was going to be a lemon, but I promise there will be enough AxR to make it worth your time nevertheless. :)
To Amon's Angel of the
Darkness: Stop putting yourself down or I'm going to have to come
beat you up! ;) I wasn't always patient. Just ask my beta reader.
She's seen all the impatient crazy writing I've done in the past.
It's easy to get carried away . . . I understand being interested in
writing original characters though. The original story I've been
working on for many years now has far too many characters simply
because I love creating characters.
I think it would be fun to
see Amon beat the shit out of Zaizen, but I'm not sure if it'll work
into my story. Now that you mention it though . . . Hmm, we'll just
have to see how AU I want to go.
To just4ubaby: It makes me so happy to hear you got caught up in the characters' emotions in my story. I get totally caught up in them when I write, so it's great to hear people get caught up in them when they read too!
To GothicBlacre: Thank you! It's okay if you write more than one word, though "wow" is a very good word. I've noticed my characters enjoy saying it at least. :)
To yukari youkai: Thanks for all your reviews! You'll have to finish the first game, to understand why his card says Devil Never Cry, though I don't know why I'm trying to avoid spoilers when I'm pretty much spoiling everything anyway. Basically, he changes the name of his business at the end of the game. I totally know what scene you're talking about with Touko yelling at Robin. That's the one that always comes to mind for me too. I think it revealed a lot of the Touko "behind the mask" if you know what I mean. I get the impression she's a bit two-faced. Oh, and here's your candy bar, by the way. Three Musketeers or Snickers?
To Patsita: Thanks! Wouldn't you just love to actually be able to picture them--like literally. I've toyed with making that chapter into a little mini doujinshi sorta deal. But, alas, I don't have that much time.
To Pyrosa: "Jailbait hell." I like it. Maybe I should have made that the title of the chapter. Or how about this, "Amon's going to jail." Yeah, I had that scene from "Time to Say Goodbye" in my mind too. You just know he wanted to kiss her in that scene, but then we never got more between them really in the series. That's why we have to create our own. :) If you draw a pic, you must share details.
To Dark Mistress Meli: Obsession is good. I will do my best to feed it.
To Sakura Rain: I'm glad you are enjoying it! I'm all about the "fighting-inner-pain-and-angsting" kinds of stuff.
To Inuki: D! Can't believe I forgot to mention my fic to you in the first place! Doh! But you found out anyway. I'll have to send you an email soon. I hope you're doing well.
To
Lizalou42: Well, I've already responded to your questions, but I
wanted to post answers just in case anyone else read your review and
had wondered about the same things. I know I'm wordy . . . I can't
help it. I just like the sssssooooundsssss of wwwoooordsssss.
I
don't think Robin and Amon would be very likely to separate even if
they were concerned about being tracked since I would think Amon's
pretty good at losing people in a car chase and they only have one
vehicle. (Though a car chase would have been fun--Moonlighting style)
I wondered if they should check in with STN-J too, and that's why
I mentioned there hadn't been a chance to call for backup. Also,
Robin had been expecting Amon to take them back to the office, not to
drop her off at home.
The reason for "staking out, then
running through the cemetery only to get caught spying and chased
down" was because they were just staking out the one witch. They
didn't know about the others (and wouldn't have expected them since
witches rarely work together according to the show), so they followed
him and chased him into the cemetery because it looked like a chance
to take him down. They weren't intending to spy so much as to
actually capture the guy. Unfortunately, they ran into a group of
witches and were quickly outnumbered and outgunned. They ran because
it was fairly obvious they weren't going to take all the witches down
at once, especially when one of them was so powerful. The purpose of
the chase as a whole was to introduce the bad guy (girl) and the fact
witches were working together. I also thought it was interesting to
have witches pursuing them for once. Oo, Ah, Walker Boh. Don't know
where that came from.
Anyway, as to Sakaki's outlandish interest,
I was shocked in rewatching the show to see him playing a handheld
video game in one of the episodes. I guess it was just in my
subconscious the whole time--not just a crazy random idea! Oh, and
yeah, it's Dante. And glowy circle thing is a bad deal.
Whew, I hope I didn't miss anybody's review. If I did, I apologize because I tried to get them all!
