*Hey, author here. I apologize for not updating this series until now. I have more time, so it will be updated as regularly as I can maintain*
Chapter 2: Complications
POV: Dante
"I already told you, Mundus has warded against angels. He knows what our power feels like." Castiel whined.
I smirked, stirring my strawberry sundae. "Remind me again why you're still here?"
I had been bugging the poor bastard for hours. It was terribly amusing, his reactions. He took everything so seriously, it was the only way to liven the mood.
Castiel rolled his eyes. "I will go double check the defenses..."
"While you're at it, pop down to my shop. Don't worry, it isn't warded." I said to the look he gave me, one of utter narcissism.
"Hidden in a painting are two pistols, Luce and Ombra. Get them for Dean here. Also, there is a hung up sword, the sword of Sparda. Handle it carefully, it can hurt you."
Castiel disappeared just as Dean sat back down. He had ordered a triple pattied bacon cheeseburger, and a Budweiser. Looked delicious.
"Give him a break Dante. He is a tough guy, I'll give ya that, but he still is fragile." Dean mumbled through several bites of hamburger.
"Everyone is fragile, Dean. Even us half demons." I replied, waving down a blonde waiter with rather large... Well. You know.
"Still..." Dean put the burger down, and began to drink the beer. "...you're hitting him hard. You really hate him, don't you?"
"Nah. I don't hate him. He's a little bitch, sure. But he's a lovable little bitch."
Dean laughed. I smiled. It was good to have company. Dean seemed to genuinely get where I came from. And no one genuinely got where I came from.
"Do you have a brother?"
Dean looked up from his beer, immediately stopping his laugh.
"Yeah. I have a brother. You?"
I nodded, "His name is Vergil. For all I know, he could be dead right now. We don't get along very well."
Dean nodded. He unfolded a scroll on the table, pointed to it, and smiled.
"So I've heard"
I turned it around. It was the legend of Sparda.
"Who gave you this?"
"A woman with blonde hair. Why?"
I put my smoothie down.
"Damnit Trish!"
-I would advise listening to Vergil's DmC3 theme during the bar fight. It is what inspired the combat-
POV: Sam
"Waitress. Get me a beer please." I said it with no happiness. I usually never drank.
After yet another fight with my brother, and we where departed. It sucked. I missed Dean, and wished he would give up this stupid argument. But nope. No can do.
A different waiter came and brought me my beer. I drank a sip, and nearly gagged. I had been so long, it tasted horrible. I spat it into my cup of water, and pushed the beer aside.
"Sobriety ending, I take it?" A man sat down adjacent to me. He wore blue, and had a hood up. He looked suspicious, causing me to thumb my handgun. If he was a demon, he wouldn't need the hood, which led me to believe he wasd something else. I drew the gun, aiming it at his leg from beneath the table.
"Who are you?" I asked
He withdrew his hood to reveal a regal face, and swept back white hair. He wore a sword, a katana, and appeared to be some form of royalty.
"My name is Vergil..."
"Hey! Blue eyes!"
I watched Vergil turn to face a drunk man, wobbling towards him. The bar had stopped talking, and the bartender was nowhere to be seen. He expected a fight. Everyone did. Vergil paced towards him, putting one hand behind his back.
"I don't...shh... Remeber inviting pompous..."
Vergil stepped back as the man wobbled forward.
"Sir, I would advise you go and sit down. You could get hurt."
The man spat into Vergil's face, promoting him to wipe it in disgust.
"Pricks..." The man finished, taken a drunken swing at Vergil. He sidestepped, and the man toppled over into some couples' table. His friends, who where evidently bikers, stood up.
"Eh, Bruno, you saw what he did to Pete. What do we do to people like that, ehn?"
The biggest of the group emerged from behind them, walking towards Vergil slowly. He was buff as hell, wearing torn up jeans, and a sleeveless leather jacket. His face was brutish.
"We crush people like that, little man."
Vergil did not smile. His face had become angular, calculating. He simply stood, unmoving.
"Then try."
Bruno took a swing, wide, and Vergil ducked, kicking Bruno's shin, caving it in. Pete had only time for a faint cry, as Vergil shook off his hand, then punched Pete in the face, knocking him out. A second biker, this one a girl, came in with a kick. Vergil caught her leg, mid air, punching her rapidly in the chest, and finishing her off by elbowing her neck. This time two came at once, each with pool cues. One swing high, and one swung low, causing Vergil to jump, and sidespin. They hit each other, injuring themselves. Vergil jumped on to the bikers' table, over yet another punch. Finally, a bearded biker climbed onto the table, drawing a K-Bar. Vergil smiled, a sickening smile, and drew his katana, knocking the knife out of the bikers hand. He then flicked it up, bringing it across the bikers chest.
"If you want my opinion... Run" Vergil said, smirking.
The bikers scrambled out of the bar. He then returned to sit by me.
"What are you?" He had been amazing. Fighting skills like that where acquired after years of training.
"I'm a hunter, as you call them. I need your help, to track someone."
"Who?"
"Your brother. And mine."