Chapter 5

Drunkards Actions

All the girls standing in a line for the bathroom on one side. All the girls dancing in a line on the other. Someone was obviously selling drugs in the bathroom... And the row that was getting all the pretty girls must he handing out wads of cash for them to be centring on them like that, it was all about the money. Love Planet was getting lively, the uproar of the horny crowd was there and the chicks, the babes... Busty, sexy, chicks. Dante could watch them all day long... And yet that intolerable, foppish... Suffering man, correction – half-man – is all that his mind could conjure up. He'd always find himself ruminating about Vergil, day dreaming about him. His subconscious was telling him something; he was just too daft to acknowledge it.

"Hey, kid!" That's right, the kid found a job here, thanks to Dante of course; he was behind the encouragement that made him get the job in the first place. Dante waved enthusiastically, grabbing his attention without fail. The music was loud tonight; yelling Nero's name wouldn't have worked the way he wanted it to.

"No way old man, this is the seventh drink tonight, you can't be serious." He only grinned lazily at the boy. Was he concerned for him? How thoughtful, how sweet.

"Kid, do you want the money or not? I'm sure if I get your boss out here and tell him you think my money's not good enough..." He drawled off, his mind slipping slightly.

"Quit it already, I'll get another one jackass."

"That's what I'm talking about kid," Nero groaned at the nickname as he shuffled off. The kid still wore a sling for work. Said he didn't want to scare away the customers. Good on him, now that was great customer service! A few months ago he was exiled from his home town Fortuna, the citizens forced him to leave and nearly everything ended in bloodshed... Nero kept most of the gory details out, or more like a few important ones out. Dante could tell there was more to the story then was met at face value... Dante didn't know what happened between him and the girl – Kyrie – after the saviour incident. He preferred not to ask, because he cared not for what happened then, but he cared about what happened now. He was just being frank about the situation; everyone had different thoughts and feeling about that little situation anyway.

Nero still went around demon hunting; it was almost like a competition between them. Of course Dante won with the highest of scores, but the kid was good; even if he was a total punk at times. Good job he didn't head over to that town Vergil was luring demons to with that violin of his. All hell would have gone loose. He wondered... "Hey kid!" Calling him over once more.

"What is it Dante! I am not getting you another one! That one's not even finished." He gestured to the full cup on the side. The liquid was pretty strong; Nero mentally questioned what brought on Dante to order it several times in a row. It was unlike him to do this, it wasn't the usual.

"It's not about the drink, though it is a pretty damn drink hmm?" Was he drunk? "Anyway, I wanted to know how good ol' Yamato was doing these days. You keeping it safe? Because if a sword like that isn't safe kid, I'm gonna have ta kick your ass," he sniggered ridiculously.

Nero twitched; the old man was definitely drunk. 'Pretty damn drink...' He had to be. "Course I am, one of the best swords I ever got." He only had two swords. "What is it? Want it back?" He leaned over the table, "Too late for that now, my devil happens to like that sword. And I happen to like my devil." He told him with a grin. Dante grinned back. His devil, is that what he was calling it now? It was like they were in some sort of a relationship.

"I don't want the sword kid; I actually want ya to keep hold of it, a real tight hold. And don't loose it, listening?" Nero lifted an eyebrow, what was he getting at exactly? "Who knows what demon out there want it," he got real close to Nero's face, their proximity too close. "It belonged to a really special guy," Nero scrunched up his nose, and backed away in retreat.

"You've had too much to drink! Your breath stinks! Man," he fanned his nose in exaggeration. He didn't want to deal with a drunken Dante, he had cups to clean! And tables to wipe. How exciting.

"Well, I would do wouldn't I? Because this is the kind of stuff they cause if you cared about em too much! It's like," he thought for an appropriate example. "It's like a married couple," Nero sighed, here we go... It was going to be a long night today. "One goes off, does the 'nasty-pasty' with another. Then the other one drinks their life away! And you wanna know why? Because the damn guy doesn't give a damn." He threw back his drink, straight down his throat. He loved the burn, the fire in his throat, it was all worth it. "Because he's too bent up on fucking..." He settled down a tad, images of Vergil's skin attacked his mind once again in this past hour. "Power," he finished finally. "And that's where it got him kid," Nero was busy wiping down a glass cup as he listened to the insane ramblings of a drunkard; he hadn't a clue what he was on about. "Between you and me, I'd prefer it if he never got his sword back," he mumbled to his cup. Nero caught that last part.

"His sword? Who's he?" he filled up Dante's glass once more, he wanted to keep him talking. "Family member?" He recalled Dante telling him the sword was a part of his family. He was genuinely curious; it was good to know who its previous owner was.

"I'm not that drunk kid," he winked, and gestured with his cup in hand before he swigged that down too. Nero scowled, so much for trying.

"Asshole, what do I care if you're drunk," He left the whole bottle there and stalked off in another direction. He had other drinks to fill. Dante chortled loudly; it always entertained him to piss the kid right off.

"Cheers kid!" He called out after him with his bottle high up in the air.

When he finally left the bar, just after closing time he stumbled a little as he walked through the streets back to his place. Rebellion on his back, as always. Just in case, one could never know when a demon could just spontaneously pop out from nothingness now could they? The moon was still out; high and bright in the dark night sky. It was extremely early in the morning. "Beautiful moon! You never fail to amaze me!" he announced to no one in particular. "And they never fail to chase me," he told the moon, told the moon?

Spotted and found, you're out of the game.

Dante whipped out his twins, and went trigger-happy on the demons lurking behind him. He was going to have fun tonight! Lots and lots of fun.

Nearly the whole party was here! All sorts of demonic manifestations were present, it was fantastic! What a way to turn up to a party though, they were as ugly as ever, Enigmas in the far left. Lusts and Prides working together, and that one he could never recall... Greed was it? What did he care; he had a target didn't he? But there was something missing. "Where are the babes guys? Don't tell me you demons forgot to invite them!" They all kept in their place, restraining themselves almost. This was odd behaviour, were they being controlled by a greater force?

He shot them anyway, taking the first turn. They lunged at him afterwards; this was the reaction he was waiting for! Demons came at him in numbers; nothing he couldn't handle. Dante whipped out Rebellion, tossing it like a boomerang which hit them on its way back to its owner. He chased after it meeting his blade as it came; Dante skilfully tackled the scythe users with one hand. "HAHH!" Thrusting his blade into the enemy, gun shots here and there. It was an immaculate display of both style and accuracy. Deft hands worked quickly to eliminate the enemies one by one, sometimes three in a go! And not just two. The single Greed got closer to Dante, holding its ticking bomb above him; it moaned or laughed louder, the bomb ready to blow any second now! "Too slow buddy!" He taunted, jumping high into the air. Rebellion dived downwards, aimed in the centre of the swarming group of demons. He shot a single bullet into the hilt of his weapon below, speeding up the process like a catalyst. It collided violently with the bomb and 'BOOM!' Exploded! Dante got launched into the air even further; he watched the sight from above, eagles view. Not as beautiful as the shinning moon above him, but it was close enough to be called beauty.

He landed superhero style just in front of his precious blade. His weapons never failed him, he grinned lazily, the alcohol still had it's affect on him. And yet he still gave an impressive performance, and now it was time for the next one. He pulled out Rebellion from the ground right before the Lusts hit him; they were the ones that managed to escape the explosion with their speedy movements, silly demons. Killing their own kind, that wasn't a way to win now, was it? They came at him, quick and agile; however, Dante was better. A million stabs to the chest, he was quite the penetrator; the Lust must of suffered from that blow. It was time for a stinger! That's going to hurt in the morning. High time now, the Lust had it coming to him, but one couldn't stay up there forever, he had to come down some time! Dante was overhead it now; and swinged it downwards; sending it crashing into the concrete ground. Dust to dust, the demons shatter; was the experience too much for them? Dante chuckled, returning to the ground once more. It was good to be on top; felt great too.

To be on top.

Vergil's eyes were wide, struggling to breath over the table, it overwhelmed him. His blood staining his face... All by his gun, his shot. The image assaulted his mind, his brother's weak moment. Brother, 'Would you call this a family?' Dante clutched his fingers around Rebellion, his head bowed; white hair sheltered his eyes.

Then a long wet lick met his right cheek, he blew the head of the demon the instant he felt it. What the hell was that! He dragged his hand over his face; removing the disgusting spit or whatever substance it was the demon left on him. That was new and gross on so many levels. "Why the fuck would it-" wasn't it obvious?

Demons recognised him for his blood, and who did he share that blood with? It was hard to tell them apart; that was a thing about twins.

"Vergil," he dashed off in haste. The demons were looking for him; why else would they be here? He should have never left him in that statehe put him in, even if they were supposedly no longer brothers. Their blood told him otherwise.

And that's all that Dante needed to motivate him.

Blissful sleep. In sleep one becomes ignorant to the world that surrounds them; it takes one away from its harsh reality too. Who wouldn't want to sleep? Knowing that...

Vergil was sprawled out across Dante's desk in an indecent manner, his clothes rid upwards on his stomach; exposing it for all with eyes to see. His stomach wasn't as bad as other specific parts of his tainted skin; his back was a good example of that. There laid a purple-blue sickly bruise, decorating it repulsively. Beside that was a lengthy jagged gash; it was sealed now but even that failed to reduce the atrociousness of it. The look of it could even make the toughest of men feel a bit queasy.

Outside, not indoors. A silhouette was coming ever closer to Dante's office; it soon approached the door or hole-in-the-wall in a paced manner. The person stilled at what they saw; heavily alarmed with the irregular state of the office. Vergil's blood stained the wooden floors; it wasn't the most welcoming sight of all. The uninvited guest soundlessly strolled over, the soft tap of their shoes echoed through the darkly lit room; but it wasn't loud enough to wake up even the most lightest of sleepers.

Whoever it was, they towered dangerously over Vergil at this moment, inspecting him real closely. Perhaps he or she was seeking out for Dante, and wasn't quite sure on whether he was him or not. Twins could be very puzzling to the mind, one of them ought to get a distinctive mark to separate them when it came to times like this, a simple push on the direction of the hair wasn't always going to cut it. The character pulled out a pistol; than another. Both hoisted up at an angle which aimed perfectly at the unsuspecting Vergil. This did not look good.

Not. One. Bit.

His eyes snapped open; he woke from the 'click' of the gun. He wasn't going to get shot asleep he wasn't. His mind wouldn't allow such a thing to take place, he may be weak but pride gave him that little push to keep himself going. Vergil squinted through the dark; he could see the guns; but not the owner unfortunately. But he knew they didn't belong to Dante... "What is this," he spoke quickly, distracting them from pulling the trigger for a couple seconds. He was most certainly unimpressed by the rude awakening he received. Once again he was at the other end of a gun, how thrilling.

"Rest in hell." she said. And pulled the trigger before he could even speak.