"Dante, stop fidgeting," Eva scolds as Dante shifts from one foot to the other atop of the stool that he has been standing on for the past five minutes.
"It is fine, Milady," the tailor, a tall and pale-skinnedmanwith shoulder length black hair and eyes the color of blood, says with a smile that puts Dante on edge. "I'll be done soon enough." He pauses to glance over his shoulder at Vergil who has been watching him closely the entire time.
"You're a demon, aren't ya?" Dante figures it's best to be blunt, drawing the tailor's attention back to him while Vergil flexes his fingers as if he's going to bring out Yamato.
"Dante, don't be rude!" Eva gives Dante a very thin-lipped scowl, and boy does she smell upset. "You're already on thin enough ice as it is."
"It is a legitimate question, Milady," the tailor states smoothly as Dante's tail twitches. "I am a demon, yes, but of a different sort. I form contracts with mortals that pique my interest and they receive my services in exchange for their souls."
"So someone is currently holding your leash," Vergil states blithely, his fingers relaxing and his gaze meeting Dante's. "Otherwise you would not be here in this plane."
Eva's scowl deepens and she reaches up to rub at her temples with a slight huff, disbelief lacing through her scent. Behind her, watching all of this silently, is Sparda, a faint smile curving his lips. He quickly schools his expression into something more neutral as Eva turns to him. While Dante can't see the look that she's giving him, he can probably guess that it is one of displeasure judging by the grimace that Sparda gives.
"Indeed, though my current contract is…indefinite." The tailor's face briefly morphs into an expression that suggests that he's tasted something foul, irises a glowing fuchsia, and then it all smoothes out. "My master has little need of me and often leaves me to my own devices."
Dante tilts his head slightly, the tip of his tail flicking, then shifts his gaze back to Eva and Sparda. They're still engaged in a silent exchange of some sort, with Sparda looking more and more resigned. Giving his nose a wrinkle, Dante turns his attention back to Vergil and finds his brother still staring at him. "So you do this to occupy your time?"
"Among other things." Howvague. The tailor gives Dante a bemused smirk to which he simply arches a brow in return as he flicks his gaze back to him. "I've had nothingbuttime to learn how mortals do things these past ninety-five years I've been contracted to my master, and he was very insistent that I do so back when he had been a mortal himself."
The thing with his master sounds like a sore point, one that shouldn't be pressed. "He a demon now or something?" Dante asks with a casual flick of his tail, a smirk pulling up the corners of his mouth when the tailor's eyes flash that glowing fuchsia again. Bingo. "Lemme guess, ya can't break the contract."
"My word is as binding as a blood oath," the tailor states in a calm voice, letting none of his displeasure and irritation seeping through. It is impressive considering how much he seems to hate being stuck with this master of his.
"That's enough, boys," Sparda calls out in a commanding voice. "Michaelis is here to provide a service and does not need you prying into his personal affairs."
Vergil narrows his eyes, clearly unsatisfied to leave things be, and Dante feels the same way, but pressing for more information will only lead to trouble for both of the . Instead, his brother gets down from the armchair and comes over to join them, purposely flanking the demon tailor. "Everything needs to be breathable and able to withstand being worn into a battle."
"As you wish." There is a flicker of interest in Michaelis's eyes and he gives Vergil a brief glance. It looks as if he wants to ask something but he seems to decide against it and finally drops his hands. "That should be all I need."
"Finally!" Dante jumps back, off of the stool and gives his brother a smirk. "Your turn, Verge."
"That will be unnecessary," Michaelis states, at which Vergil gives Dante a smirk of his own, his tail giving a lazy flick. "I have the measurements for both of you with all of the needed adjustments that are to be made."
So he could have just as easily taken measurements from Vergil instead of Dante is what he seems to be saying. Vergil who would have probably stood there like a statue while he was poked and prodded…and Dante finds he does not like the idea of that. Not at all.
"Run along to breakfast, boys," Eva says with a strained smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
Vergil neatly steps around the stool and grabs Dante by the hand, silently pulling him out of the sitting room and into the hallway. They're just barely out of sight of the archway when he comes to a stop and pulls Dante close to sniff at him. He gives a soft growl at whatever he finds, his tail lashing as his irises shift to a glowing scarlet, and wraps his arms around Dante. "His stench is on you," his brother hisses out and then the hallway around themshifts.
"Verge, we already had a bath," Dante comments as he takes in the bathroom Vergil's teleported them to. His brother gives a low growl as a response and lets go of Dante so he can start pulling his clothes, simple boxers and a tank top, off. Vergil's wearing the exact same thing, which is completely beside the point, and he's not bothering to get undressed himself as he steers Dante towards the bathtub once he has him naked. "Is this really necessary?"
"Yes." Vergil's reply is very short, almost snappish, and comes as he positions Dante beside the tub. Dante watches in silence as he pulls away and moves to turn on the bathwater. He's set it to scalding hot apparently, steam quickly billowing up out of the tub and filling the bathroom. "Get in."
Dante almost wants to argue against having to take another bath, this one hot enough that he'll soon be matching the color of his wings and tail, but the look Vergil gives him has him acquiescing. Dante flinches as he steps into the too hot water, holding back a hiss, then slowly sinks down. It's barely tolerable as the tub continues to fill, and it's only the pleased look that flits over his brother's face that keeps Dante from bolting.
The water is cut off once the tub is close to half full and Dante's a decidedly pink color. Vergil, still very much in charge of the situation, grabs the damp washcloth from earlier along with the soap and sets about to washing him, thoroughly. Part of him enjoys the attention, a lot, but he's also irritated at being made to take a second bath and he just wants it over with. Thankfully his brother is as quick as he is thorough and has Dante cleaned to his exacting standards in a matter of minutes. "Wet your hair."
"Really?!" It comes out of its own volition, and Dante receives a glowing scarlet glare as his answer. He bares his teeth with a soft, half-hearted growl, letting his displeasure be known, and leans back to get his hair wet. "You're being ridiculous," he mutters as he straightens back up once his hair is sufficiently soaked.
"Did you not claim me as yours last night? You are mine as well and I will not tolerate the scent of another upon you, Dante," Vergil's tone is carefully measured as he pours a generous amount of shampoo onto his hair and then starts working it into a lather.
"What about mom and father? You gonna make me do this every time they touch me too?" Vergil doesn't respond at first, his fingers working down to Dante's scalp where he gently massages the lathered shampoo in for a moment.
"No. They are our kin," Vergil finally says, withdrawing his fingers from Dante's hair. "Rinse." Dante gives a soft huff and does as Vergil bids him only to resurface and find his brother waiting with a fresh towel for him. "Things will not be the same as they were before, Dante. I no longer have a need to hold back my instincts when it comes to you, nor will I keep anything from you."
Dante sets the water to drain from the tub then climbs out and into the towel, giving Vergil a frown as he does so. "I find it hard to believe that you held back on anything." He certainly hadn't held back against Dante atop of Temen-ni-gru, or so he wants to believe.
"I could list all of the things I never did, things that I probably should have done, but it would be better to just show you." Vergil pats him dry, the process taking a little longer than what Dante feels is necessary if only because Vergil does his hair too. Once he's finished he sets the towel aside, draping it over the lip of the tub, then takes Dante by the hand and leads him out of the bathroom.
Sparda is standing right outside of the doorway, an impassive expression on his face, and Dante very nearly comes to a stop. Vergil doesn't even pause, just pulls him along behind him as he goes around the tall and imposing figure of their father. "Your mother is beside herself because you are not where you should be."
"We will be there momentarily," Vergil tosses over his shoulder and Dante sneaks a glance at Sparda to find him watching them with a very faint upturn to the corners of his mouth.
"Where is your brother?" Eva's pissed. There's no getting around that. It's worsened by the fact that Dante is the only one that showed up to breakfast, Vergil having taken off with a promise of coming back and a quick kiss to his cheek.
Sure, Dante had promised to keep an eye on him but something about his brother's demeanor kept him from following after Vergil. He was taking off to do something important, something that has Dante's instincts intrigued. "I dunno." Dante frowns down at the plate of food set before him, finding all of it unappealing when he knows it's something he's eaten before.
"Dante." The note of warning in Eva's voice has him looking towards her, his head tilting slightly as he gives a slow blink.
"I really don't know. Demon stuff, I suppose." As much as Dante has embraced that side of himself there is still a lot he doesn't know about. Vergil does, and Dante gets the feeling that whatever his brother is doing is one of those things that he has no knowledge of. He hadn't really cared before and now he's beginning to regret that.
Eva's lips thin at Dante's lackluster answer while Sparda just sits at the end of the table with a very odd expression on his face. He looks happy, for the most part, but there's also worry that shows itself whenever he glances at Eva. It's…curious.
Dante frowns at his plate again and then pushes it away, unable to bring himself to even try and eat any of it. He ignores the sound Eva makes, an angry little inhale that would no doubt be followed up by some sort of chastisement, but she doesn't get the chance. There's a crackle of energy and Dante twists around in his seat to peer around the back of the chair just as Vergil appears, splattered with blood and holding on to what looks like a carcass of some sort. Dante doesn't know why, but whatever creature his brother has killed and brought back looks far more appealing than the stuffed omelet and sautéed potatoes.
Vergil is watching Dante closely, almost like he's waiting for him to make a move of some sort, his posture completely rigid. Dante tilts his head slightly, looking from his brother to the carcass once more, then climbs out of the chair to slowly approach his brother. Vergil doesn't move, just continues watching Dante in silence as he comes to stand in front of him and his kill.
It's clear that Dante has no idea as to what is happening, or why it feels so very important, but he follows his instincts and circles around both his brother and his offering. Once. Twice. A third and final time before he stops directly in front of Vergil and make a soft noise, almost a chirp, as his tail gives a happy wave. The effect on his brother is immediate, the tension vanishing as relief floods his scent and his expression. While Dante is no closer to understanding what just happened, and is still going on, he's apparently done something right judging by Vergil's reaction.