God of Time
Dante was driving aimlessly up and down the many streets in Raccoon City. Shifting his weight on the bike, Dante slided from one lane to another effortlessly. He should do this more often he thought to himself. For a change his mind was calm and he had a feeling of content, the slighthly cold air tickled his face and ruffled his hair as he slowed down to get off the highway. There were no stars or moon tonight, a thick carpet of clouds gave them shelter and at the arrival of the sun the very same clouds would cry tears of rain.
Around noon the following day, Dante woke up in his bed as usual. «Awh how I hate mornings.» He grumbled tiredly as he rose from bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up a little. A quick shower later and he felt much better, though his mood dropped when he realized that his fridge was empty, again. «I swear I filled it up just the other day.» Dante complained to himself before hearing some rustling at the front door.
Yanking the door open and pointing Ivory at head level, Dante was expecting the usual punks that hung around in the red light district. Instead he stood face to face with a pile of books. «Oh for the love of...! Don't just stand there, give me a hand!» Trish complained from behind the books. Taking off the top half of the book pile, Dante gave Trish a puzzled look before going back inside. «You're not moving in here, if that's what you're thinking.» He said over his shoulder before he put the books down on the pool table.
Trish followed his example and took a moment to get the blood back out in her fingers as well as catching her breath. «I prefer manga's myself...» Dante commented while browsing through the pile of books. «As entertaining as Akira & Co might be, they're just that: entertainment.» Trish said before beginning sorting out the books. A particular book caught Dante's eye and he gave it a closer look. It appeared to be bound in human flesh and inked in human blood and contained ancient incantations and burial rites. The cover looked wrinkly and brown, with something resembling a face on the front, and the pages contained text in strange characters along with drawings of various evil creatures. «Hey, you even got some classics.» He smiled, showing Trish the book.
Glancing up from the pool table, Trish gave a quick wink before returning to the other books. «Didn't know you were into good ol' Lovecraft.» Dante mumbled, flipping through the pages. «Please be careful with it and whatever you do, don't read out aloud.» Trish cautioned. «Why? It's just a book.» Dante replied. «No Dante, that's the Necronomicon. As in the original, the real thing.» Trish said sounding a little worried as she gently fished the book out of Dante's hands. «For real?» Dante couldn't resist asking, since that was quite something, even by his standards. «Yes, quite real.» Trish assured him before putting the book away.
As interesting as that might be, Dante wondered what this was all about. «So what's the deal?» He asked. «These are for your reference and to study.» Trish explained, patting the now organized books. Dante just stood there flabergasted. «Know your enemies Dante, you'll live longer that way.» Trish pouted, dismissing Dante's expression. «I got to read all of them?» He asked her. «More or less.» Trish agreed. Dante did see Trish's reasoning and he even agreed with her, it was just... such a damn hassle.
Trish helped herself to a closet standing next to Dante's desk and put the books in there. «How's Leon doing by the way?» She asked while putting the books in the closet. «He's hanging in there as far as I can tell. I'll give him a nudge or two once he gets out of the hosipital.» Dante replied. «Where have you been lately by the way?» He added, since it bugged him that Trish just took off and showed up as she saw it fit. «First I went around collecting these books, then I searched all the books for clues that should help me find something we'll need for your training.» Trish explained, putting the last book away.
Letting out a sigh, Trish took a seat at the edge of Dante's desk. «I've no idea why I even bother to look for it though. You're the detective, not me.» She said sarcastically. «I hunt, therefore I am. As long as we're talking ghosts, gouls or something along those lines I'm game, but if you need me to find the cup of Christ or another sacred artifact, forget it. Lara Croft is your girl then.» Dante objected. «C'mon Dante, you should at the very least look at it.» Trish pleaded. Sighing in defeat, Dante said: «Fine, you've got my attention.»
Fetching a pen and a piece of paper, Trish leaned over Dante's desk and started scribling down something. «What we're looking for is the statue of the God of Time.» She explained while scribling. «Can't we just make a flux capacitor, stuff it inside a De Lorean DMC-12 and hit 88 miles per hour instead?» Dante asked. «No we can't.» Trish grunted, clearly not amused by Dante's joke. «They used to be around by the dozen, but in this day and age they're very hard to come by. I would say that our best bet would be to keep our eyes open while raiding devil nests and the like.» She said once she'd finished her scribbling which proved to be a drawing.
Glancing over Trish's shoulder, Dante studied the drawing in more detail. «Is that it?» He asked, pointing. «Yes, at least as far as I can tell from the descriptions from various texts.» She replied. «I've got one of those in my basement.» Dante said with a clever look on his face. «If you're pulling some shit, you're going to burn for a week.» Trish warrned, narrowing her eyes. «No, no. Honestly, come with me and I'll show you.» Dante assured her before he headed towards the door that lead down to the basement. The stairway was narrow and poorly lit, though the water damaged left wall added a little charm to the passageway.
Flipping on the light in the basement, a single light bulb revealed that the basement was just one big barren concrete room. Some stash was stuffed away up against one wall, for the most part locked down in crates, boxes or covered up with old bedsheets. «Could I get a roll of drums please?» Dante grinned as he grabbed one of the old bedsheets and got ready to yank it away. «You'll get a foot up your ass if you're pulling my leg.» Trish snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Without any futher delay, Dante pulled the sheet away and revealed a golden statue that looked like a humanoid lion resting a great hourglass on its shoulders in a kneeling position. The sand inside the hourglass seemed to be glowing with a special golden/yellow aura.
Trish's eyes lit up like a pair of christmas trees at the sight. «How... where... did you find this? I've been looking everywhere, all over Europe and only found dusty old shadow tales.» She said with facination. «Dunno the details, but I dare say that my old man kept it as a souvenir from the good ol' days or something along those lines.» Dante shrugged. «Amazing...» Trish breathed. «Wouldn't get my hopes too high if I were you, 'cause it's broken. Maybe the batteries are dead or something.» Dante told her. «I'm not sure if I should cry or laugh at your ignorance.» Trish snorted.
Stroking her hand gently over the statue as if assuring herself that it was indeed real, Trish began to explain what it could do. «Like any other god, if you worship it you'll get rewards.» Dante grew sceptical at her words. «Sorry, but I'm not kneeling down and kissing some god's ass.» He objected. «Your stupidity must be the 8th wonder of this world.» Trish dryly commented. «Was that a compliment or an innsult?» Dante asked. «It's open for interpetation.» Trish smiled. «Worshipping the God of Time is quite easy considering your profession.» She continued, not letting the little verbal game between the two get carried off.
Walking up to the statue to give it a closer look, Dante frowned at it. «Can it make me a babe-magnet?» Dante asked Trish hopefully. «No, but if you provide it with blood from slain devils could teach you how to fight more like you father and less like a gun blazing and sword weilding moron.» Trish explained as if she was talking to a child. «Oy, don't diss my style. It makes me look cool.» Dante objected. «If you're going to insist on using it, use it for what it is worth.» Trish suggested. «Ha?» Dante replied, clearly not following her.
Trish took a moment to think of the best way to put it into words. «You need to use more than just brute strength when fighting. You must fight with hand, heart and soul united in harmony. Then you'll be able to harvest the blood essence of your enemies and use it.» She explained carefully. «How do I do that?» Dante asked, guenially intrigued about the subject. «You don't need to let your demonic blood boil sort of speak.» Trish said, hinting towards Dante's demonic form. «There must be... how should I say... harmony.» She tried, but only got a dubdious look from Dante. «Are you shittin' me? Harmony in a fight against some devil smart-ass with more legs than a bug and eyes like a snake?» He was obviously not buying it. «I'm talking about your own inner harmony, that is what is important, fuck the rest.» Trish grunted, a little tired of Dante acting dense.
Looking up at the large hourglass resting on top of the statue, Dante made a face that said «what the hell» before he turned his attention to Trish again and asked her: «Then what? I've got the blood of the devils or whatever, but I'm still clueless of how to use the damn thing.» He finished off by jerkining his thumb at the statue. «Just approach it and things will work out on their own.» Trish assured him. «Are you telling me that this dusty old piece of crap is just all plug & play like some damn Windows program?» Dante demanded, still sceptical. «Have a little faith in your heratige Dante. Your father was one of a kind, in the full meaning of the expression.» Trish smiled as she gently patted his cheek. «Pat my cheek again and it's your ass.» He grumbled to himself.
Back up on the ground floor, Dante picked up a old slice of pizza that lied in a squashed pizza box on the floor and chewed it down. Noticing Trish semi puzzled and disgusted face, he said with a mouthful of pizza: «Breakfast,» as if that brought any justice to his eating habits. «It's only 4 days old and there's no sand on the cheese, so don't gimme any weird looks.» He added once he'd swallowed down. «Whatever, I'm not your mother.» Trish said, giving up. «Say, how come you know so much stuff about devils, statues, books and what not?» Dante asked, taking a seat behind his desk, resting his feet on the desk. «Didn't I tell you that I came on behalf of Trismagia?» She reminded him. «Right, ol' three faces.» Dante said as if he recalled while he was rubbing his finger in his left air. «Be good and read some of those books I gave you, okay?» Trish said before leaving.
Alone at last Dante thought. True he was no all-knowing-son-of-a-gun, but he had been around enough to add two and two together. Trish wasn't someone he trusted yet since both she, Trismagia and the job in general reeked of trouble. For now Dante figured he'd just tag along, but never really letting his guard down. He could play games too and since he after all was a detective, he might as well run his own parallell and independent investigation of things to come. Opening a drawer in his desk, Dante picked up a large red jewel locked in a silvery frame. Holding it firmly in his hand, Dante ran his thumd over the edges of the stone itself, a habit he fell into whenever his mind was troubled or seriously worried.
The phone rang and startled Dante so much he almost lost his balance point in the chair, but recovered and answered the phone in his usual manner: «Devil May Cry...» It was the doc back at the station. A girl from junior high had just come in, drained from blood and bitemarks on her neck. «I'll give Nevan a scolding.» Dante agreed over the phone before hanging up. Early afternoon he mused, looking at the watch that hung on the wall. Hang on, didn't he bust that watch when that voodoo priest tried to curse the Raccoon City water supply last August? Awh no matter, Dante should get moving regardless of what time of the day it was.
It was quite a drive all the way to Shoreside Vale where Nevan lived from Dante's office, but a long drive and some fresh air seemed to be just the thing Dante needed after spending nearly the whole afternoon with Trish and dusty old books. Stopping in front of the majestic gates that lead into Nevan's mansion, Dante spoke briefly with the guard before driving all the way up to the front door of the mansion. The entrance hall of the mansion was large and crowded with pale people dressed in dark and colorless clothes. Despite the sunny day outside, not one ray of sunlight was allowed inside the mansion.
From the top of a large stairway a blood-red haired lady started a slow and gaceful decent. She carried herself like a queen, though she wasn't dressed like one. Her wasit long hair covered her naked greenish skin and it was hard to tell if she was wearing a pitch black skirt or if it was a natural part of her body as it at times looked like it had a life of its own. «Dante darling, what a unexpected surprise.» She greeted him with a seductive smile which revealed her vampire fangs. «Have you finally agreed to join us and kill the werewolves once and for all?» She asked hopefully. «No, just wanted a word with you in private.» Dante said, sniffling a yawn. At the word private, Dante suddenly found at least 3 dozen different fireams pointed at his head, though he didn't flinch. «Oh stop that.» Nevan chillingly scolded her followers. «They insist on the usual terms.» She told Dante as if she was appologying to him.
Without a word Dante stripped off his sword and handed over his guns to one of Nevan's minons. Smiling satisfied, Nevan glided gracefully down a hallway leading to a more private part of the mansion with Dante following her lead. «You look good.» He commented. «Always the joker.» Nevan chuckled, since she hadn't aged a day in physical sense since she turned vampire. Sinking elegantly into a chair, she offered Dante a seat as well before she asked: «What do you want?» Shifting in his chair, Dantecarried on in his usual fashion. «Two small favours. First I'd like to know which one of your guys that killed a kid in junior high.» He admitted.
Since his early years as a devil hutner, there had been an uneasy peace between Dante, the noble vampires and the less civilisted werewolves. Strickly speaking Dante hunted down and killed any given devil at sight, no question asked and no mercy given. However, with Nevan and her followers things were different. For one reason or another, vampires and werewolves were constantly at each others throats. Leaders of both factions were aware of Dante's origins and had numberous of times tried to sway him in their favour with mixed results. As far as Dante was concerened, this was something he used for what it was worth. Playing a dangerous game, Dante juggled the loyalty and patience of both factions as he allowed one devil kill another.
Besides, since both devils could easily pass as a human and the popularity of gothic look, it was risky at best to hunt them. In return for Dante's so-called mercy, Nevan had agreed to get blood from more acceptable sources, such as bloodbanks at the various hospitals. Vampires went in as nurses and doctors constatly working the nightshift, which gave them enough freedom of movement to do what they needed with no one the wiser. The werewolves on their side agreed to withdraw the the abandoned underground tunnels. The digital age also posed a serious threat for someone that didn't age, since too much strange behaviour would get attention of authorities and that wouldn't be good. It was simply easier to keep a low porfile than going through all the hassle of cleaning up the mess after a wild night on the town.
Nevan herself played a dangerous game with high stakes. She, a high ranking vampire was having dealings with the son of Sparda, the great betrayer. If, or rather when Mundus regained his rule, he wouldn't just forgive and forget. Having known Dante's father and seen first hand what he could do, Nevan took a chance and put her entire vampire tribe at Dante's mercy rather than fight him. Dante was also fully aware of that Nevan simply wanted to survive, so she could turn around and stab him in the back at any given time should things really look grim for him. She could and most likely would do so, for the only thing that could clean her name for dealing with the son of Sparda was to offer his head on a silver plate to the Dark Emperor.
«We're probably talking about the ever conservative Lax.» Nevan sighed. Although she was the leader of the tribe and everyone were made her kind by her fangs and her blood alone, there were some internal issues that couldn't be avoided. «That guy? What is he, 5-600 years old?» Dante frowned. «He'll be 589 this December.» Nevan supplied. «Old school for sure. I won't let it slide this time Nevan and I don't need you to talk to him either.» Dante said, rising from his seat. With a cracking sound of thunder a swarm of bats wrapped itself around Dante. Nevan had that ability and a few others which involved bending and hiding inside shadows.
Usually she changed form whenever she got emotional, but that didn't bother Dante too much. «This was not a part of our deal.» Nevan had a omni-sounding voice, so it was hard to find its point of origin. «I'm altering the deal, pray that I'm not altering it any further.» Dante dimissed her pleas unemotionally. He sat still in his seat, waiting for Nevan to come to terms with what he'd told her before asking for his second favour, though by the looks of it he was pushing his luck harder than usual.
Nevan didn't calm down however, she kept on circling around Dante's chair, sparks of thunder snapping angrily between them at random. «Does the name Trismagia say you anything?» Dante asked. «An oracle consisting of 3 heads, one for the past, one for the present and one for the future.» Nevan replied. «What's its story?» Dante continued. «It served as the most trusted advisor of Argosax, the mortal who was granted great powers by Mundus for summoning your father from the Underworld.» Nevan explained. «I didn't see any Argosax and the advisor going behind the back of its master doesn't sound likely. So what happened to this Argosax fellow?» Dante asked then. «Your father sealed him off in a barren world and placed the keys to the seal in the hands of mortals for safe keeping.» Nevan giggled.
Dante took a moment to organize the new information. By the looks of things Trish was high up on the ranking ladder, but what ranking ladder? The one of the devils, angels or perhaps some third side? More qustions and fewer answers. He simply had to stay sharp and hopefully the pieces would present themselves in due time.