[ getting out of the underworld is a simple trifle compared to having to lug around the deadweight and pizza that is his twin. they got out of the hole and sure enough the bastard decided to pass out right there in the middle of the street. how tempting it was to just leave him there... but no, he has more pride than that. before he cuts ties and leaves town, he should finish the job. that means dragging him, arm slung over shoulder, to devil may cry.
he doesn't knock or bother to announce himself. he delivers a swift kick to the door, the old wood swinging open without any resistance (to a degree that he assumes it wasn't even locked to begin with), and grumbles out a grunt as he drags dante inside. he takes one, two, three steps in, and without further fanfare lets go.
dante's body thuds on the ground and the whole building shudders angrily, as if disturbed from slumber. vergil breathes ragged, only now realizing how completely spent his body feels, and straightens up in proper poise for no audience but his own. in the moment he is unfortunately treated to a view of the utter dump of this hideout, memory of it in scarce fragments from a life half his own. ]
Why am I not surprised. [ he mutters to himself, unable to stop himself from glancing down at dante. though he looks like a dead man, his brother still breathes and... is that snoring? vergil grimaces. ] Well, my work here is done.
[ and so he turns to leave, figuring dante's comrades will handle the rest from here. ]
no subject
he doesn't knock or bother to announce himself. he delivers a swift kick to the door, the old wood swinging open without any resistance (to a degree that he assumes it wasn't even locked to begin with), and grumbles out a grunt as he drags dante inside. he takes one, two, three steps in, and without further fanfare lets go.
dante's body thuds on the ground and the whole building shudders angrily, as if disturbed from slumber. vergil breathes ragged, only now realizing how completely spent his body feels, and straightens up in proper poise for no audience but his own. in the moment he is unfortunately treated to a view of the utter dump of this hideout, memory of it in scarce fragments from a life half his own. ]
Why am I not surprised. [ he mutters to himself, unable to stop himself from glancing down at dante. though he looks like a dead man, his brother still breathes and... is that snoring? vergil grimaces. ] Well, my work here is done.
[ and so he turns to leave, figuring dante's comrades will handle the rest from here. ]
BRING BACK CHILD SUPPORT
you won't get a cent
Help
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)