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asgardchrysalis2019-12-02 11:58 pm
sassery) wrote in asgardchrysalis2019-12-02 11:58 pm
Entry tags:
joyful the sound, word goes around (closed)
Who: Nero (sassery) and Vergil (cecidit)
What: Time for the boy to tell his father how he came across Yamato, Vergil's beloved sword
When: Beginning of December
Where: Vergil's place in Odin
Rating: Not too bad, mentions of death in here at some point tho. Possibly murderous intent too.
[How did the Yamato come to be in your arm, Nero?
It's a question he's honestly wondered when his father would ask, and also been afraid of answering when the time came. While there's still so much he doesn't know about Vergil, Nero would like to think he'd know the reaction he'll have if he ever discovered that his own son... well...
There's no use thinking about it now, he said he'd tell him and Nero plans to stick to that. Even if the end result is not going to be a good one. Probably. Basically. More than likely.
The address given to him is different, and it takes him a good while to find it. Away from Odin's house, and in an area he doesn't quite find familiar, Nero has to stop and stare at the building for a good long moment, not believing his eyes.
....................Vergil seriously has been holding out on him, hasn't he.
The devil hunter knows that his father is home, at least, knocking on the door so he knows he has company. And the instant Vergil opens that door? Nero is raising a brow, whistling.]
Why didn't you tell me you had a shopfront?????
[Guess who is already quietly formulating plans for an Asgardian Devil May Cry? This boy.]
sassery) and Vergil (cecidit)What: Time for the boy to tell his father how he came across Yamato, Vergil's beloved sword
When: Beginning of December
Where: Vergil's place in Odin
Rating: Not too bad, mentions of death in here at some point tho. Possibly murderous intent too.
[How did the Yamato come to be in your arm, Nero?
It's a question he's honestly wondered when his father would ask, and also been afraid of answering when the time came. While there's still so much he doesn't know about Vergil, Nero would like to think he'd know the reaction he'll have if he ever discovered that his own son... well...
There's no use thinking about it now, he said he'd tell him and Nero plans to stick to that. Even if the end result is not going to be a good one. Probably. Basically. More than likely.
The address given to him is different, and it takes him a good while to find it. Away from Odin's house, and in an area he doesn't quite find familiar, Nero has to stop and stare at the building for a good long moment, not believing his eyes.
....................Vergil seriously has been holding out on him, hasn't he.
The devil hunter knows that his father is home, at least, knocking on the door so he knows he has company. And the instant Vergil opens that door? Nero is raising a brow, whistling.]
Why didn't you tell me you had a shopfront?????
[Guess who is already quietly formulating plans for an Asgardian Devil May Cry? This boy.]
no subject
It had cut his trip to obtain foodstuffs short, but it's a small price to pay — the Yamato has barely left his side ever since Dante had snuck up on him, and he finds himself idly tracing his fingertips along her wrapped hilt as he waits for his son to arrive. It's enough time to heat a small pot of water, drop some fragrant leaves in to let it steep, and by the time there's a knock at the door he's out of idle activities to busy himself with.
Why didn't you tell me you had a shopfront?
It's...not what he expected the first thing out of the boy's mouth to be, and Vergil frowns. ]
I have no idea what you mean. This is where I live, not a shop.
[ And a pause before turning and heading back into the building. He stops in front of the desk, stares daggers down at the little teapot he has set out. ] I have... tea. Have some.
[ Dante coming over? Didn't count because he'd moved in. His shadow arriving? A business transaction, sort of. But Nero, his son, is his first true guest, and Vergil realizes that he still has no idea how to host.
Your father is the most awkward, Nero. Enjoy. Have some tea. ]
no subject
[It's a look as if to say, "hello???? I know this because I run my own business." It's out of a van, but he's been to similar buildings like this in the past, this is how things go.
Having tea is.............. not really his thing, but he takes it without saying much about it. There's a thought for a moment of making some quip about it being too quiet, but he decides against it in the end, settling into a chair and waiting for Vergil to sit too. It's a conflicting look that sits in his eyes- one part of him not wanting to tell the truth, to make up a farce of a story to let his father not worry, not be upset with what happened. But he also knows he wouldn't be able to keep it up; being a part of this family means he's also a bad liar to those who know him well.
So, instead, he leans back, feet placing themselves on the nearby table to let him unfurl and rest while he tells his story of... well. Not quite misery, really, because the Yamato gave him so much when he needed her.]
So, where do you want me to start?
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[ It's a strange feeling to watch the boy walk in, watch as Nero takes in his surroundings. He can't help but feel judged, even if that isn't what's actually happening, and Vergil dislikes it.
He watches, too, as Nero sits down, kicks his feet onto the table. Well. He scoffs, following the boy to the table, and pushing his feet off the table with a hand. He sits, pours two cups of tea. ]
Where do you want to start? [ Vergil pauses. He doesn't know if he wants to know everything, and knows that he does, as well. He finds himself wanting to know how Nero grew up, what happened. But that's...not what they're here for. Perhaps another time.
He takes a deep breath, sits back. ] Start where you feel is necessary.
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Where I feel is necessary.
[It's a small statement, but it carries such a weight that Vergil has no idea about. He's not mocking his father, he's simply tossing the idea in his head of where exactly he should begin. The story is a lot longer than if he just explained it as-is, but Vergil would have so many questions, it'd take a lot longer to explain and they'd diverge from the point of him being here.
So Nero begins where he feels most comfortable: just before he met Dante.]
Back when I was maybe 14? 15? Somewhere around there. I joined the Order of the Sword to try and protect people in Fortuna from the demon attacks that always seemed to happen on the edges of the city. Stayed with them till I was 19, they eventually ended up just giving me solo work because it was easier for me. I was regarded as a "Holy Knight," whatever that meant. I knew a lot about the Order, knew almost all the members- or, well. Thought I knew, at least. [There's a hand gesture at that, and Nero leans back, thinking of how to word himself next.]
Turns out, after Dante came and implied there was more going on than I knew, I was told to chase after him and take care of him. Ended up going to a bunch of places I didn't visit often, some I didn't even know existed. One of those places was the underground research facility.
[At that, Nero leans forward to put his elbows on his knees, hands over his mouth as he exhales. This... is going to be harder than he thought.]
And that place was run by someone I had never met before- Agnus. [Nico's father. He'll never understand how Nico happily works with him, when he was responsible for Agnus being dead nowadays, but he doesn't ask much about it.]
no subject
You were fourteen when you joined them.
[ Not a question, just confirming. Ten years ago; five before he'd met Dante, then, and long after he'd lost both Yamato and himself. He isn't certain how he feels knowing that Nero's mother had stayed in Fortuna even after he'd left. It would make sense, all things considered — but given how pious they were, he can't imagine it would have been easy. And Nero had mentioned that "Kyrie's" family had adopted him... When had she given him up? What had happened that she would?
It leaves a sour taste in his mouth that Nero would have joined the Order. When he'd visited Fortuna, there had always been a distinctly demonic presence about the city — he'd presumed it to be the demons that, as Nero had experienced, sometimes made excursions into the city. He'd seen the strange artifacts that the Order had been collecting, but allowed it to continue; alone, those artifacts were fairly harmless. He'd simply thought these people to be collectors and worshipers, foolish humans who clung desperately to the heels of any powerful creature they believed could "save" them.
He does not like that he was wrong. He likes it even less to watch Nero's nerves seem to take over for a moment. ]
I don't recall having met an Agnus while I was in Fortuna, either. I spent time in the Order's library, but a research facility is new. They must have kept it hidden. I presume this is the... bug that you mentioned, if he was in charge.
[ Vergil takes a deep breath, making connections in his head and trying not to think about what they could mean. ] They did have a number of demonic artifacts, but they were all fairly useless. I presume he was the one studying them; if the Order's intentions were more nefarious, perhaps that was why they kept him from me. It would explain the source of the demonic energy I sensed from the place, though.
And? [ There's a sip of tea. Maybe he's rushing the boy, but he wants to know— ] What importance does this "Agnus" hold?
no subject
Surprising even himself, he reaches forward and actually grabs the tea placed there for him. Takes a sip- and tries not to make a face. He'd honestly rather have a beer at this rate, it'd make this easier, at least.
Nero rolls his eyes and snorts, but it's not a hostile sound.]
Yeah, well. Let's just say we got off to a bad start. He tried to kill me immediately because I was there and asking questions, and obviously I wasn't supposed to be. [A pause, and the Devil Breaker splays a little before he continues.] Here's where it gets weird. He sent demons after me- demons the Order had made themselves.
[There was absolutely no way those Gladius were normal- Agnus had implied as much. He lets that sink in for Vergil for a moment, to let him know how Nero soon realized he was in something much larger than he'd ever imagined.]
They were definitely not telling you everything- Agnus wasn't only making demons, but the Order was also collecting Devil Arms. [Things he learned in the future; from the papers he'd managed to find, old journals from deceased members, small tidbits he could make out in the leftover ruins of Fortuna's pride.] It was meant for a bigger purpose.
[A wave of the hand, that's not important right now. Nero's eyes shift to Vergil's, then to Yamato by his side, then back to his father.]
Yamato was in his collection. [A pause.] I sorta remember seeing her when I forced my way into the main chamber- but she was in pieces at the time. I didn't really pay attention, Agnus had just tried to kill me and he didn't want to answer anything I asked.
And then- [It simply takes a break in his story, and suddenly there's a huge weight in his chest, causing him to swallow, unsure he should continue. Instead, he chooses to look away from his father, remaining silent.
How do you tell your father, who very clearly cares for you, that you- his proud son who was angry at the world most the time and didn't take shit from anyone- that you died?]
no subject
That hint of mirth falls away almost immediately, however, as soon as Nero says that Agnus had sent demons after him. After his son. Not only that, but the fact that they were manufacturing demons, the fact they were apparently collecting Devil Arms... What.
He'd underestimated these humans. It's a moot point now, but he hates that he'd done so.
And then his blood goes cold. ]
They had the Yamato? [ His hands twitch around the teacup, clutching tightly. On instinct, his eyes slide to where she leans against the wall at his side, never out of reach anymore. They'd found her — the pieces of her. ] She was..
[ He remembers distinctly the sound it had made when she'd been broken. Reaching for her, losing her. And these creatures had picked her up. These unworthy things. Disgusting.
Vergil has to take a deep breath, remind himself that breathing is something that needs to happen. He's listening. The Yamato is whole again, something he will no doubt have to ask Nero about as well. Everything is fine. And if his grip is tighter than it needs to be on the cup, no one need know or bother about it.
His eyes narrow as Nero looks away, has trouble speaking. His son, who normally has no trouble with such things. It catches in his chest, and he knows that something is very wrong. ]
Nero. [ Quiet, level, commanding voice. He has had time to practice this. He is not demanding, but— ] What happened.
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But the firmness in Vergil's voice causes him to look back towards him, then lower his gaze slightly. Like a child preparing for a scolding.]
He caught me off-guard. When I was asking questions, he acted cornered so I wouldn't realize it- but he called two of his demons out of nowhere, and pinned me to the nearby wall.
[He closes his eyes at this, recalling the sudden fear he had at realizing this was something he could not get out of. That the fear of death was real and crawled up his spine seconds before what happened next.]
I still had my arm then, so that grabbed his attention. He wanted to study it, and I knew too much- [Vergil should know what's going to be said next.] So he took a demon sword nearby, and shoved it into my stomach.
[The pain he had felt, the sheer shock of it going through his body so quickly all he could manage was a gasp before blood had spurted from his mouth, his entire world going dark.
He was dead, completely and utterly.]
So. Yeah. I... I died. [A sigh, and he looks back to Vergil at this, shaking his head.] Agnus had made sure of it- but... it's... kinda hard to say what happened when that did, I guess?
[He rubs the back of his neck, unsure how else to word himself.] Because when I died, I saw you.
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[ Right. The arm he had taken, in that dim garage. He'd felt the Yamato calling him from that arm, could sense its familiar power even if he hadn't understood why — and then Nero tells him that he'd been stabbed, that he'd died, and his grip cracks the cup in his hands.
Vergil is no stranger to death. He had felt it once before, when demons had chased and attacked him as a child and brought out his demonic side. He'd come close many times over when he'd lost the Yamato, lost to Mundus and been changed. He'd felt it once again when Dante had defeated Nelo Angelo, when he'd been set free. He'd teetered on its razor edge stumbling through the worlds trying to find her again.
Dying is not a pleasant experience. It does not get easier no matter how many times one experiences it. The fact that Nero has experienced it sets his blood running cold and rage in his chest. ]
And where is Agnus now?
[ He needs to kill him. Needs to make sure he dies in agony and fear. Not only had this cretin laid hand on his sword, but to know that he'd killed his son... Vergil is furious, and nothing short of swift vengeance will do.
Nero's next words give him pause, however, and Vergil freezes. Frowns, sets the cracked and dripping cup down. ]
You "saw" me. What does that mean.
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At the question of Agnus, he shrugs.]
Dead. Most of the Order's main members are- Dante and I took care of that.
[The Order now is mostly vacant. The beliefs for Sparda still remain, but the heated and cultish way of demanding the world bow to their rule and the perfection of humanity through "ascension..." Those are gone. Long after Dante left Fortuna, Nero dived into the remnants of the buildings, to find whatever secrets he could and also to destroy them, so they'd never hurt the people there again.
But Vergil has another valid question, and Nero sighs, covering his mouth as he thinks, before he shakes his head again.]
It was you, and wasn't. I dunno how else to describe it. [He presses his lips together at that, trying to figure out how to describe what he saw.] It was dark, no light, nothing. But I was there, and you were standing a bit further away- it didn't look exactly like you, but it was you. [Eyes that were firm, but held a kindness underneath- he remembers those even now.
Nero leans back and crosses his arms again, exhaling even as he continues.]
You asked me a question there. "What do you seek?" [He actually chuckles a little.] I had no idea who the hell you were, and I'd just died, so I was suspicious and angry at everything. I didn't answer, just asked you the same thing. You only grinned a little and gave me one word, but I understood it really well. "Power." I told you that was what I wanted, too.
[And if that doesn't resonate with Vergil, then his son is sure the next part will.]
Pretty sure that's how my demonic powers awoke. I'd died, but you know how hard it is to knock you or Dante down for good- impaling doesn't mean anything to Dante, pretty sure it's the same with you. [Nero has no idea he'll be exactly the same as them once he truly awakens his powers.] Anyway, I remember waking up after that, and there was a voice calling for me, in the back of my head. I was... angry that asshole had hurt me, wanted to throw it back on him.
And Yamato heard me.
I don't know how she put herself back together, but when she felt my demonic powers come back, I think she realized who I was. [Not her owner, but her owner's son. Not the same, but enough to trust him to use her properly.] She reformed as her original self in my hand soon after. [And it was a Devil Trigger that caused her to come to him, his first awakening to the demon blood that ran in his veins.]
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[ The knowledge that this Agnus is dead does not comfort him. Vergil takes a slow, deep breath, sets his hands flat on the table. He hates this, hates this reminder that not only had he not known he'd had a son, but he hadn't been there to guarantee that such a thing wouldn't happen. Dante had apparently been around the boy at the time, where had he been? Ah, but that was the reason Dante had opened his little shop in the first place, wasn't it? For humans to pay him to care that they were being crushed. Which left it to fall back on his own shoulders: if he'd known, would he had stayed in Fortuna? Would he have been able to prevent this?
Letting down your family is your job.
The duplicate keeps being proven right, and Vergil hates that fact, too.
He's silent as he listens to Nero recount his vision, glaring down at the table as he pictures it. Nero had met someone that was him, but wasn't quite him. Wonders, just for a moment, if it might have been his father instead. It's impossible to imagine that some shade of Sparda wouldn't have passed through his bloodline to the boy, given how powerful he was — but then Nero goes on, and an involuntary huff comes out of him. ]
Like father, like son, hm?
[ It's muttered to himself, just an idle thought; it's nowhere near funny enough to have warranted that laugh, but finally, Vergil looks back up at him. ]
My own power awoke in a... similar manner. The Yamato responded then as well. I was— younger, at the time. [ That's neither here nor there though, and Vergil nods as he sits back. ] She was forged by my father Sparda, along with Dante's Rebellion and the Devil Sword Sparda. To forge a devil arm requires not only a demon's power, but some shred of their soul, as well; I assume she recognized the power within you and it was enough to [ there's just the slightest pause, a quick glance back as the sound of her blade breaking echoes through his mind again ] repair the damage.
[ A longer pause, then. He knows he should say it, it just takes a moment to— ] Thank you, Nero. The Yamato should never have been broken in the first place, but... I suppose I can't argue with the results.
[ Nero is alive. The Yamato is whole again. All in all, not a terrible outcome. He sits back in his seat, gestures at his son. ] You do realize that were that to happen now, you would simply walk off such a wound? Your power has grown, Nero. I told you that the last I saw of you, you had both arms and no longer needed these mechanical trinkets. [ A brief wave at his arm. And there's a brief note of pride in his voice when he follows with: ] Before we arrived here, you challenged me to a fight — I stabbed you, and you simply pulled the blade out and stabbed me back before we continued.
I don't think you'll have to worry about something like that happening again. If it does, you are far stronger than you were then. They will not stand a chance.
[ But back to the matter at hand. ] How does this end with the Yamato inside your arm?
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He does, however, let out something that sounds like a disgruntled noise at the mention of the family legacy.]
Sparda. [Boy, that's a name he'd never thought he'd ever have any interest in or even a connection to. The religion and faith of Fortuna, the supposed entire reason for the island's existence... he'd thrown all his belief in that away after his foster parents had died, convinced Sparda and God were nothing more than just names put on paper to keep people happy and blind. Never in a million years would he have believed that he comes from the bloodline of a demon who betrayed his own kind to save humanity- that Sparda, a legendary Dark Knight, was his grandfather.] You know, they still say he was a feudal lord that watched over them for a while, back in Fortuna. I stopped believing that shit when I was around twelve, kind of ignored it since.
[What kind of god would leave him without parents and let other people call him what they did? What kind of god just stood by when Kyrie's and Credo's parents died and didn't do anything to save them? Even if God did exist, he wasn't worth Nero's time. And Sparda? A hopeful story meant to enlighten people in hard times, more than likely. Sure, there could have been something similar, but did he care? No, because no one cared about him.
Absentmindedly, Nero feels his temper spike from remembering his childhood, closing his eyes as he listens to Vergil and exhaling. He's not angry at his father and he doesn't want that to show through, so he grabs his tea cup and takes another swig, trying to push his feelings back down again.
And then, of course, Vergil haphazardly makes the comment of Nero walking off being impaled and simply pulling a sword out of himself. Simply. S i m p l y. As if that's a common thing someone does, and not at all something that could easily kill a normal person- something Nero honestly cannot fathom for himself. The end result is his son spitting out the tea he's just partook, loudly, before coughing as if his lungs are full of smoke. He feels like he's choking, almost, before shaking his head and waving off that he's okay. But once that's done, he finds himself quietly laughing- not in disbelief, because he does believe Vergil and what's being said, but a laugh of incredulity, one that speaks measures of how he's tried to defeat Dante, tried to beat Urizen, tried to beat other enemies like them- and only ever come up short.
That no matter how much stronger he gets, he cannot win, nor save who he wants to.
A breath, and he puts his hand on his chest and inhales, trying to explain himself.] I'll... I'll get to that. Just give me a moment.
[To be on par with Dante? With Vergil? To fight, blow for blow and not struggle or give everything he has to only be tossed aside like he hadn't even tried? The concept is foreign to him, but overwhelming at the same time. He's not exactly sure how to process it.]
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[ The noise he makes when Nero mentions that Sparda was revered as a feudal lord is more dismissive than he intended — but it isn't inaccurate. ]
I should have known the Order's fascination with my father was far less scholarly than they implied. Fools. I sincerely doubt Sparda paid their little community anything more than a passing glance.
[ He is... a little less certain than he'd like when he says that, something of a frown settling onto his face. And he hates that he is uncertain, that he doesn't know what his father had been doing in the time before he and Dante had been born, or even in the expanse of time after. They had been children, too young to know or care of the vagaries and duties of adult life.
How naive. Perhaps if he'd paid better attention, he would have known what had happened to Sparda.
Vergil opens his mouth to continue speaking — and stares as Nero spits out the tea and starts coughing. And then starts to laugh. Curious. Vergil narrows his eyes as he watches, more than a little bit perplexed. But— ]
I'll admit, that may be the first time I've seen that sort of reaction. Are you finished?
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So he stays quiet, clearing his throat and thinking.]
Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. [A breath, and he cracks up just a little.] You've never seen someone do that before, really?
[Diverging from the topic? Sure. But it's small talk that's allowing him to get to know his father, and Nero really can't be too upset or bothered by it.
But he shakes his head afterwards.]
It's just... hard to imagine, I guess. When I fought Dante the first time I thought I'd done fine, that he wasn't anything special. But I figured out all that was just him playing me the entire time when he beat me in our second fight. [Nero clenches his jaw just a little, stares to Yamato against the wall, remembers how easily Dante parried and dodged nearly everything he threw at him. The frustration and anger and embarrassment he felt as Dante had him pinned to the floor, Rebellion to his neck after he'd come rampaging through Fortuna Headquarters like a hurricane, going after Kyrie.
"That sword was used to seal the demon world away from the human one. It's gotta stay in the family."
"........I need this."
"Then keep it. Now that you've cooled your head and all."
The memory isn't hard to forget, really. Dante was an enemy until he suddenly wasn't- that he was telling the truth and it was the Order who was trying to make the world bend to their desire to control it. Hard to believe, but it was exactly as Dante had said- Nero just had to open his eyes and look around him.
Has he changed that much since then? Nero would like to think so. But even though he's gotten stronger, even though he's gained power, it's still not enough. Dante told him that, Urizen proved it twice. He knows why Dante tried to keep him out, tried to send him home, and while it stings, he understands.
"Nero, go! Get out of here! You're just dead weight!"
...He's so tired of not being able to protect the people he cares for. It's why he fights, it's why he does what he does. So that Kyrie and the kids in the orphanage will be safe, so that Fortuna doesn't have to deal with the bullshit the Order put them through, so Redgrave doesn't suffer more problems than it already is facing. To come up short each time is a fuel for a fire he's afraid will catch up with him one day, because the weight of Credo's death still lingers heavily on his soul, and probably will for the rest of his life.]
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[ There's a small, amused laugh when Nero tells him that Dante had simply been toying with him. It's endlessly irritating, in all honesty: how powerful his little brother is merely by the fact of his existence. It has never made sense, and still doesn't: he doesn't understand why Dante is so powerful, when for all intents and purposes he has never once desired that power.
Absolutely infuriating.
Vergil's eyes narrow as he watches Nero stare at the Yamato, finds himself wondering what is going through the boy's head. ]
Something you will learn, in time: Dante is... obnoxiously powerful. He, who has never needed nor wanted to be so strong, in a world where might controls everything. [ Is there bitterness in his voice? Yes. Yes there is. Vergil glares down at at his hands, how entirely fruitless his own pursuit had been. ] I have yet to understand how or why. Perhaps you might notice something that's escaped me.
[ It grates to admit, but it's true. Nero has spent more time with Dante as an adult than Vergil himself — their tiff atop the Temen-n-gru hadn't counted, and it seems their childhoods had passed in the blink of an eye. He remembers things about Dante, but whether or not they still hold true is... unclear.
He takes a deep breath, shakes his head. Gestures at Nero. ]
Tell me how the Yamato got into your arm, Nero.
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[That's probably the loudest aggravated sigh he's done in a while, practically snorting as he ends his sentence. Dante is family, sure, but that doesn't mean Nero's pride isn't gonna rear its head and loudly make his discontent known- at least to Vergil. He really is similar to his father, in some ways.
He has to offer a bit of amusement at the suggestion of why Vergil can't understand and needs an explanation, though. Not in finding it funny, but finding it ironic.]
You know, Sanctus asked the same thing. Why the sword Sparda wouldn't give him the power he needed when he lost to me. I don't know anything about my grandfather, but- [Nero exhales, tries to think.] I knew Sparda had a heart. And I'm pretty sure that's what led to him sealing the demon realm from the human one.
[It's not meant in any sort of disrespect, it's simply how Nero views it. Sparda is his grandfather, but he's absolutely clueless about most of his legacy, the legacy he himself now is a part of. It's still weird to think of it that way.
Moving onto the next question, it's the one his father has been asking him for a while now.]
It's just... a thing my arm did. You know how there were artifacts around? Any time my arm came in contact with one, it'd absorb the power so I could use it as my own.
[It was a weird thing, honestly, but one he didn't question, because it gave him power to protect those he cared for.]
When it came to Yamato, she just... decided it was okay, I guess. I tried giving her back once the stuff in Fortuna was done, but Dante told me to keep her.
[A beat, and he shrugs.] I didn't realize it at the time, but- he probably knew, by then. Said he did, at least. Wanted to keep it in the family.
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[ It might come a little more dismissively than he means it — though in all honesty, he wonders if he knows just as much about Sparda as Nero does. It wasn't as though his father was that present in their lives; it was, after all, part of the reason he and Dante had clung so hard to their mother. ]
Devil arms, if created a specific way, do still possess some sentience inherited from the devil they once were. Some are indiscriminate; others must deem you worthy before they'll allow you to use them. If Sanctus... had the Sparda [ and that's a piece of knowledge he is entirely uncomfortable with ] it's likely that whatever fragment of my father remained within it saw him for the charlatan he was and denied him.
[ And maybe there's just a little hint of bitterness as he adds: ] Who can truly know why my father decided to seal the realms? In doing so, he locked his own power away and left himself vulnerable.
[ Damn. That was right: he'd broken his own tea cup. Vergil gets up, fetches another, pours a fresh cup of tea and stands for a moment with his back to Nero. He doesn't like to think about it: about how Sparda had, in protecting the human realm, doomed himself and those unfortunate enough to inherit his blood. If he hadn't, would he still be alive today? Would he and Dante exist? Would Nero? He isn't certain; while he still thinks it was foolish of Sparda to weaken himself in this way, it leaves a bitter taste to contemplate.
There are more important things to address. Ignore it. When he returns to his seat, it's with not a trace of the bitterness he'd been feeling. ]
Your arm... absorbed demonic artifacts. [ There's a confused look at that — he's known several different types of demons, many that consumed all they came across. But none that absorbed things. ] And so you absorbed her. She..allowed this.
[ Again, that strange twinge in his chest. Would she choose the boy over him, at some point? He doesn't want to consider it, but still, his eyes glance sideways at her. Before they roll, just a moment. ]
Of course Dante would go about giving away my things. He's always had a penchant for claiming what was mine. [ And then he pauses. Gestures vaguely. ] Still, I suppose... keeping her a family heirloom is better than random humans taking her. As I said: the results are. Acceptable.