#beautiful marble statue vergil.....

[storytellering]

Now all I have left are effigies

[queenmuzz]

Mors aurem vellens, 'Vivite,' ait, 'venio'

You are a young woman, fated to an early grave, divinely sent to become the Priestess of the least popular God of the Pantheon. Vergil, the God of Death. 

Chapter One:

Your worn sandals hit the wooden gangplank as you disembarked along with the rest of the passengers, pausing for a brief moment to look at the splendor of the Island of Fortuna.  Unfortunately you weren’t the only one eager to make landfall, and your moment of awe was cut short, as the other passengers, mostly pilgrims, pushed behind you, each wishing to experience that same feeling of wonder.

Fortuna… a glistening jewel of an island, a bustling hub of commerce, both of material goods, and immaterial ones.  Where most large cities could boast maybe one, or two Temples at most, (the closest city near your village worshiped the Nameless Lady, Goddess of Revenge), Fortuna had the prestige of four separate temples, hence the large numbers of people coming to the city every day on pilgrimage.

The entranceway that the docks funneled pilgrims to was awe-insipring, beautiful white marble walls, with statues of each of the four gods.

Kyrie....  Goddess of Love, and of Song.  Many would pray to her to find their soulmate, or to sway the heart of their desired one.

Her consort, Nero … God of Protection, and of the Outcasts.  One might pray to him when going on a dangerous journey, and orphans and beggars would pray for his protection.

Sparda …. God of Justice.  Those who sought justice in the courts, both civil and criminal, often prayed to him.

And finally, the one you had travelled months for, spent nearly all of your money on, was his wife, Eva … Goddess of Childbirth….and Healing. You marveled at her beautiful lifelike statue that stood there, overlooking the bay, carrying the infant twins Dante, (God of Victory in Battle, and also of Debauchery, his temple lay far to the west), and Vergil (God of Death, his temple was...unknown, as he was not a very popular god to worship.)

Your journey was coming to an end.  You would soon be able to make your plea to the Goddess, to plead with her priests and priestesses to aid you.  You were running out of time.

Three months ago, you had gone to an oracle of the Goddess of Time and Space, to see what your future would hold, and to find out why you had a persistent cough.  The words he spoke chilled you to the bone.

“In two years time, Death will claim you.”

Keep reading, or click HERE to read on Ao3!

Suddenly, everything made sense.  Your periods of lightheadedness, your cough, and how simple tasks would now occasionally leave you out of breath.  Already, your family was beginning to act as if you were dead, your father and mother occasionally breaking out in tears when they saw you. In an instant, your entire life’s priorities had changed.  Instead of looking forward to marrying a young man in the next village, inheriting your parents; farm, and raising a family, all now you could look forward to was to live each day to the fullest, before your inevitable demise.

But…

There might be another way.  Perhaps one Goddess’s decree could cancel out another one.  And so, you made plans.  Your fiance’s family were willing to break up the betrothal.  (You were slightly relieved, he was a nice man, but he just wasn’t the man you’d want to spend the rest of your life with)  and your own family gave you the money that was to be your dowry.  You signed away your share of the  inheritance to your family’s farm to your younger brother, for an exchange of gold.  And after a celebratory harvest feast, your family sent you on your way, with their blessings, hopes, and prayers.  You would either come back hale and healthy, or not at all.

You couldn’t help yourself, at every opportunity, when the bustle of the crowds was not pushing you forward, you stopped and stared at the city before you.  Your family was one of the most prosperous in your village, but they might as well have been begging for scraps with the dogs in comparison.  Women strode by, wrapped in flowing robes, made of exotic materials, embroidered with gold thread.  Men did business, each followed by half a dozen servants, each assigned to a mundane task, such as holding an umbrella to block out the sun, or to carry a parcel of business records.  And everywhere, the wealth of Fortuna, no doubt flowing from its temples and the constant throngs of pilgrims, was on display, whitewashed buildings with mosaics made up of semi-precious stones.  The sound of clinking coins as both locals and visitors exchanged money for the mundane, and the mystical.

You checked your pouch for what seemed like the hundredth time.  Your trip had been taxing, both on your body, and your coin purse.  You had just enough for an offering to access Lady Eva’s shrine, and to make your plea for healing.  After that?  Well, if it was successful, you’d find a way back home, you had skills that would fill your stomach and purchase passage back home, or to wherever your heart took you.  (after all your traveling, you’d appreciated the vastness of the world over your tiny little village).  Or… you’d spend your final days, penniless and alone.  

Slowly, you realized that you’d not be alone in your situation.  For even fortunate Fortuna, a city gilded in gold and marble, had a foundation made of rotten wood and crumbling sand.  In alley ways scuffled the dregs of society, the forlorn and forgotten residents who could not take part in the bounty that the upper crust enjoyed.

And on even closer inspection, your amazement turned to disgust.  For in a city that had a God of Justice, injustice reigned supreme, where unscrupulous vendors sold cheap trinkets for exorbitant prices, while the authorities looked the other way.  A city that had a God of Protection,  the strong dominated the weak, men in silk robes kicked dust in emaciated beggars faces.  And a City that had a Goddess of Love, its residents cared for little besides themselves, and how to attain more wealth, how to exploit the visitors and the underclasses for their own benefit.

You munched on some stale bread, watching with growing horror as the facade disintegrated before your very eyes.  The sooner you got out of here, the better.  To be stuck on this island would be a death sentence, even if you were healed. But even in such dire straits, you admired the poor people’s resilience, their ability to endure.  Not far from you, several scruffy children played knucklebones on the cobblestone, enjoying their life to the fullest, oblivious to their poverty.  At least there was some innocence in such a cruel world.

From a distance you heard the sound of neighing horses and metal on stone.  The throngs of people, both locals and visitors quickly got out of the way of a chariot going much too fast for such a narrow road.  Its driver, a young man, bedecked in gold medallions laughed heartily along with a pretty young wench, dressed in equal finery.  They sped along, their black stallion steeds frothing at the bit,  uncaring of the danger they put the surrounding pedestrians in.  Thankfully, they made such a racket, that nearly everyone was able to get out of their way in time, shouting curses at them as they went past, which were ignored.  Even the raggamuffin children, intensely focussed on their game, realized the danger, and quickly scattered to the wind.

Well, all except one.  A little girl, no older than ten, her frazzled red hair tied back in a rough ponytail, had either not heard the approach, or didn’t have the speed of her playmates to get out of the way.

Hopelessly, you attempted to run towards her, to get her out of the way, but even you knew there was no way you could have reached her before the chariot, which didn’t slow down at all, collided with her tiny body.  And so, with a horrific sound, the girl was trampled underfoot, by four pairs of hooves, and one set of wheels.

You had expected the chariot to stop, or at the very least slow down, but the driver was either unaware, or more likely, didn’t seem to care, as it sped around a corner, one wheel lifting up as it did so.  The last thing you heard was the crystal clear laughter of the youth, without a care in the world receding into the distance.

In the following silence, no one made a move towards the girl, in fact, after a few moments of shocked horror, everyone went back to their daily activities, as if nothing had even happened.  The sprawled out body of the girl was to them, a piece of trash.  At least with her fellow playmates, their disappearance was understandable.  But there should be at least one kind soul that had the decency to care about the well being of this small child.

You would be that person, as you used your well worn staff to propel yourself towards the girl.  Blood dribbled out of her ear and nose, and she remained still as death, but your fluttering fingers found a faint pulse, and to your great relief, a breath.  Still, she was in a bad state, and would need help, if she would have any chance of survival. Quickly, you scanned the meandering group of people,  who were watching you, while attempting to look like they WEREN'T watching you.

“Please!” You shouted, and for a moment, everyone froze.  “Is there a healer here?  Or does anyone know her parents?”  After a brief hesitation, everyone went back to whatever more important tasks they had originally set out to do.

“ANYONE!?” You cried out, the smell of the girls blood choking your lungs, “Will anyone help?”  No one did.  The only response was the small whimpers and moans of pain from the unconcious girl.

Well, if no one was stepping up, you would have to be the one to save her.  A farmer’s daughter, you knew all types of cures and treatments, but something like this?  This was beyond your skill, most likely beyond the skill of even a physician.  And as you looked up, to see the shining marble statue of Eva, her smile radiating down upon you, even from this distance, you realized that there was still a chance to save this flickering flame.  Placing your staff on your back, you picked up the limp girl, and made your way to your ultimate destination.  Strange, the girl seemed to weigh nothing.

You reached the gilded doors of the temple of Eva, guarded by two men, their bronze armour buffed to a shiny gleam.  They were intimidating, but you had to try, for this little nameless girl's sake.  

As you attempted to cross the threshold, in unison, their spears crossed, barring your way.  You could always have attempted to push past them, but, odds were that the oracle’s prophecy for you would come true much, MUCH quicker.

“Please,” you pleaded, “This child needs healing, she needs Mother Eva’s blessing.”

“None enter this temple without an offering.”  Their tone was as unyielding as the door behind them. “God's mercy!  This isn’t some scam, a life hangs in the balance!”

The men scowled, and you couldn’t help but pull the child closer, to protect her.

“Fortuna’s laws are clear, the sacred places cannot be sullied by the empty handed.”

There would be no use arguing with them, even in such a dire situation.  And so, you came to a fateful decision.

“I… have coin… the pouch on my hip.”

Within a blink of an eye, the one guard snatched it, and began to pour out your literal life savings into his palm, while his comrade kept his spear pointed at you.  The greasy clink of coins being counted was the only sound you could hear.  The man muttered something intelligible before pocketing the money, the gold being swallowed by billowing reams of cloth.

Without warning, the child was yanked out of your arms, and the guard carried her (far too roughly, in your opinion) into the sanctum.  You went to follow, but the remaining guard blocked your path.

“Only those with an offering may enter,” he repeated mercilessly.

You were flabbergasted “B-but that’s all I have!  I’m not going to do anything, I just want to make sure she’s alright!”

“Lady Eva looks after those who have made a sufficient gift, now begone!”  And using the shaft of his spear, he shoved you to the ground, straight into a dirty puddle.

Part of you wanted to get up and punch him, part of you wanted to try to rush past him in an attempt to see the girl.  The cruelty of it all was immeasurable, if the girl made it, she’d wake up alone and scared, and most likely possibly thrown out the moment she recovered.

But what could you do?  Here, you had no friends, no connections, and now, most importantly in this wealth obsessed city, no money.  And so, with a heavy heart, you attempted to wipe off some of the mud on your cloak, used your staff to pull yourself up, and left to go back to the pilgrim’s hostel, of which you had previously bought a night’s stay.  Unless one of the Gods pitied you enough, it would be your last nights in relative comfort.  All your travels, everything you had done for the past month...was all for naught.  There was no way you could raise enough money for an offering...well, in time anyway.  You were doomed.

You sat on the side of your cot, chewing on the last of the bread in your pocket.  You wanted to give into despair, to just give up entirely.  Tears in your eyes, you fell into slumber, with your only consolation was that the nameless red headed little girl would have a chance at the life you could never have.

The garden was beautiful, more than anything you’d ever seen in your travels.  Vines climbed over ancient pillars, their leaves glossy and healthy, while vibrant blue roses bloomed, their sweet scent wafted over a barely there breeze.  Statues of couples in romantic postures dotted the landscape, with the centerpiece being a winged man encircling both his arms and wings around his beloved, a woman carrying a harp.  The fountain they stood atop of flowed out crystal clear water, which you could have sworn gave out an aroma of its own.  What had you done to be invited to such a gorgeous locale?  You wracked your mind, trying to think of how you got here, but all your memories of the past seemed to be clouded by fog.  And strangely, you didn't seem to be worried about your inability to recall anything.

“Welcome!” A woman’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, and before you, a young woman smiled gently. You could have sworn there had been no one there a moment ago. “I have been waiting for your arrival for quite a while, please, this way.”  Her arm, with simple gold bracelets that secured her sleeves, waved over to a set of klinai.

A mahogany table, with bowls of grapes, pomegranates and an assortment of other fruits, as well as a jar of wine, sat between the couches as both you and your host took your seats, and you enjoyed the texture of the cushioning crimson velvet.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”  

Her laugh was musical, and entrancing.  “No, it’s not you that is at fault.  Fate often decrees that we must be patient.”  She brushed away her vibrant red hair as she poured you a glass of wine, which you sipped.  Whatever vintage it was, this was so good, it seemed out of place for a mere visit.

“Let me clarify,” she said as she plucked a grape from the bunch, “I haven’t been waiting for you specifically, but for someone of your selflessness and charity.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You had no idea what she was speaking of, you were no more,no less righteous than the average person.

“Long have I despaired, for the rich people of my city have grown cold and hard, looking always to themselves than to their fellow men and women, while the poor cannot afford to do anything but focus on their very own survival.  It took an outsider, someone not even coming to my temple, to show the charity that I so desperately sought.”

Before you could ask her to explain, a sparkling light enveloped her, almost blinding you, and as it dissipated, the woman had disappeared, replaced by a vaguely familiar child, her red hair in a less frazzled ponytail, dressed in brilliant white robes with a dusting of gold, instead of...rags?

She giggled, waved at you as you began to connect the dots, and with another equally blinding burst of light, transformed back to her adult self.

The cup of wine you held clattered to the ground, spilling its blood red contents upon the ground, as the realization hit, and you quickly averted your eyes, not daring to make eye contact with her. “L-lady Kyrie,” you stammered, terrified.  For a mortal to look upon the Divine was a death sentence, “I-i didn’t realize...forgive your humble servant.”  You attempted to get off the couch, in order to supplicate yourself, to spare yourself from her wrath, but were stopped by the gentlest touch upon your chin, slowly bringing your face upwards to her beautiful visage.

“What kind of host would I be if I struck down a guest I had invited? She chuckled again, sending tingles up and down your spine, before answering her own question, “a very poor one.” She relaxed back into her couch, “Without hesitation, you aided a stranger, and gave everything you had to save her.  Such an action deserves to be granted a boon.”

Instantly, your mind went to the Oracle that had predicted your death. “Can you cure me?”  Kyrie may not be the goddess of healing, but she was a Goddess, such a thing should not be beyond her power.

Unfortunately, her expression fell, “Sadly, I cannot.  Not even Lady Eva could save you. Even us deities are bound by the decrees of the Lady of Time and Space.”  Your heart crumbled.  Your journey to somehow heal yourself had been doomed from the moment the oracle had murmured those words, no...most likely since before you were born.

“But…” she said, “I have a way to give you purpose...to hopefully make your final years make an indelible mark,” her hazel eyes were soft and sympathetic.  “To the North, where the graves are made of red granite, lies Vergil’s temple.  Long has it been forgotten and abandoned, and as much as he would deny it, he needs a priestess, to serve him, to help him remember…”

Remember what? You wanted to ask, but the world seemed to be a bit fuzzier, like a fog was billowing in.

“Make your way to that temple, and be His Priestess”  Kyrie spoke, softly, but with the firmness of a sacred order,  her face already obscured by mist, “In time, both you, and He will understand…”

A rush of wind, blew over you, and you awoke in a sweat, gasping for air in your cot.  Such an intense dream, it had felt so real, but that’s what it all was, merely a dream.  The question was, now that you were awake, where were you?  Ah, yes… you were in a hostel in Fortuna...dying from an incurable disease and completely...broke?

To your left, glittering under the light of an oil lamp, was a golden coin, leaning against… your old coin purse?  How odd, last time you had seen it, it was in that grubby hand of that guard that had cruelly ripped it away from you.  And even odder, it looked like it was much fuller than before, as you hesitatingly reached out for it, your eyes widened to the size of platters as gold coins spilled out.  Even before you had set out on your journey for salvation, you hadn’t had this much.  You looked around rapidly, to see if there was a sign that someone had placed it there, but the only change was a single blue rose, freshly plucked, that lay on the table beside it.  You swung your legs over the side of the bed, and you contemplated what it meant in the early morning stillness, your fingers caressing the velvet petals.

Taking a deep breath, you placed the coin purse on your belt, and with the help of your sturdy staff, you got up.  You had a long day ahead of you.  It was time to leave this island, with all of its corruption...and head…

North.

[pyramultimuse]

"So eager to get me alone. Makes me wonder if you have some sinister intentions." He said with a bit of amusement. "To leave the Underworld to return to where you came you will have to find your way out, fight and journey through the different areas. But once you do I can bring you back any time." Death explained the process, he couldn't teleport others out of this realm unless they earned it. But within he could take them anywhere.

He stood from his seat and offered a pale hand for Vergil to take. Once the other did they were engulfed in misty shadows, briefly becoming them while they were transported to the beautiful paradise of Elysium. This part of the underworld was nothing like the dark gothic cave system like everywhere else, there were many floating islands surrounded by soft mist and beautiful greenery. The scattered buildings and statues were made of marble in a traditional greek style. The islands were connected by bridges or giant tree roots but the one they were currently on had no direct access.

"This is my humble home..." Thanatos said as he released Vergil's hand and floated over to the lone building. An ancient greek temple-like building, but unlike the white marble everywhere Death's house was black.

Vergil raises an eyebrow in pleasant surprise. That positive response makes him a little more excited than he expected. He smiles a little smugly, but pleased that Thanatos seemed to want to spend time with him.

"Then how about now? Since in the case I don't know what my situation is at the moment. And incredibly I don't care that much. I want to enjoy my time with death in person while I can of course." He finished his drink himself and set it on the table. He approached the other, put his hands behind his back and looked eager for his lovely company.

[ofdivinemajesty]

@ofsovereignvice

Mornings like this are what she treasures most. Mornings when she has awoken before he has. Mornings where she is given the time to look upon his peaceful expression, his winter eyes hidden away behind pallid eyelids and silvery lashes.

He is beautiful, she thinks, like a statue made from marble and carved to perfection. Were it not for the lovely curve of his lips breathing out languid breaths in tandem or the slight rose color dusting his cheekbones, no one would have been able to tell the difference. She wants to touch him and the urge to do so is strong, but her fingers just stop short of tracing his lips as she realizes she does not want to wake him.

Her hand returns to her side as she moves ever so slightly to lessen the distance between them so that she could at least revel in their closeness. She is pleased when he doesn’t stir and continues to watch him sleep.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

She repeats in her head, as she wishes she could punctuate each declaration with a kiss. But she refrains. She knows he needs his rest. It's enough of a battle to get him to lay in bed, let alone sleep peacefully, she thinks as she continues to gaze upon him.

For a while she watches as he shifts in his sleep until his hair falls over his eyes, making him look uncharacteristically like his brother. Out of pure habit she reaches up to push back the hair from his face and in that same moment she realizes her mistake.

But at that point it is too late.

Sabine freezes as Vergil's hands seize her by the waist and pull her closer, "Good morning, my love." he murmurs, "You waited an awfully long time to touch me..." he almost purrs.

In retaliation she brings both her hands to the sides of his face as she purses her lips at him, "You were awake all this time?" she asks, almost petulant that he had tricked her.

He cracks a small smile at her, "I was curious of what you would do to me." he admits as he kneads gentle circles into her hips.

She bites her lip and inwardly curses the fact at how easily the heat of his hands could burn her, "Do you want me to show you?" she asks, sighing out the question with bated breath.

The smile on his face is almost wicked now as he leans in ever closer to her.

"But of course."

[silxerbullet]

@tentatiomundi Closed rp

  It had been close to a year since Dante and Vergil both descended into the bowels of hell.  The Devil May Cry, while still prosperous under the watch eyes of Lady and Trish, had become more of a shell of what it used to be.  Just how long did those two assholes intend to make the youth wait?  Though, over time, and with the assistance of the two women, Nero at least had found some sort of lead. 

                              Mallet Island...  At least what was left of it.

  The scent of salty sea spray and ozone were thick upon the mostly abandoned island, yet amidst all that, was what looked to be the ruins of a castle.  It was beautiful, yet chilling, to gaze upon the youth made it to the shoreline.  To know this had at one time been the home of a Hell Gate, this place was oddly reminiscent of Fortuna... Perhaps if Dante had not come along, this would have been the city’s fate.  It was sobering to think about, something to keep the young man’s mind preoccupied as he ventured forth into the overgrown paths of the once grand structure. 

  If there had indeed once been a massive Hell gate here, then perhaps there were still enough remnants to reopen a way into the Underworld.   He had to try.  Determination etched on his face as he quickened his pace, venturing into the ruins of the castle.  The scent of earth, must, was strong; however, there was a presence.  Like as if a demonic energy still resided within these walls. 

“Jeez, what a dump,” the young man scoffed, stepping over broken stone and glass.  A soft sigh escaped him as he took a long moment to pause, a giant marble statue stood high, erect, in what looked like it used to be a foyer.  Nature had slowly begun to retake the grand entry way, vines climbing up walls, grass growing between unkempt tiles.  The stench of mildew and musk, combined with the scent of wet earth which gave the atmosphere an even more desolate feel.  “Guess I got my work cut out for me.”

  The first thing he had to do, if it was still possible, was to search for a library of some sort.  Taking a few steps away from the giant marble statue, a feeling of unease rose in Nero, causing him to stop and study the statue once more.  It was as if it’s cold, marble, eyes were following him... calculating his every move. 

“Gives me the creeps,” he rolled his eyes, trying to get his mind off the statue as he ventured towards a side door.  “Did...  Dante really come here?  Once?”

[queenmuzz]

A sneak peek to something I’ve been working (aka thinking about  working) on...

Yet another Vergil x Reader AU.   This one will be set in a vaguely Hellenistic God/Goddess Universe.   Just imagine flowing robes for everyone.

Your worn sandals hit the wooden gangplank as you disembarked along with the rest of the travelers, pausing for a brief moment to look at the splendor of the Island of Fortuna.  Unfortunately you weren’t the only one eager to make landfall, and your moment of awe was cut short, as the other passengers, mostly pilgrims, pushed behind you, each wishing to experience that same feeling of wonder.

Fortuna… a glistening jewel of an island, a bustling hub of commerce, both of material goods, and immaterial ones.  Where most large cities could boast maybe one, or two Temples at most, (the closest city near your village worshiped the Nameless Lady, Goddess of Revenge) Fortuna had the prestige of four separate temples, hence the large numbers of people coming to the city every day on pilgrimage.

The entrance-way that the docks funneled pilgrims to was awe-inspiring, beautiful white marble walls, with statues of each of the four gods.

Kyrie....  Goddess of Love, and of Song.  Many would pray to her to find their soulmate, or to sway the heart of their desired one.

Her consort, Nero… God of Protection, and of the Outcasts.  One might pray to him when going on a dangerous journey, and orphans and beggars would pray for his protection.

Sparda…. God of Justice.  Those who sought justice in the courts, both civil and criminal, often prayed to him.

And finally, the one you can traveled months for, spent nearly all of your money on, was his wife, Eva… Goddess of Childbirth….and Healing. You marveled at her beautiful lifelike statue that stood there, overlooking the bay, carrying the infant twins Dante, (God of Victory in Battle, and also of Debauchery, his temple lay far to the west), and Vergil (God of Death, his temple was...unknown, as he was not a very popular god to worship.)

Your journey was coming to an end.  You would soon be able to make your plea to the Goddess, to plead with her priests and priestesses to aid you.  You were running out of time.

Three months ago, you had gone to an oracle of the Goddess of Time and Space, to see what your future would hold, and to find out why you had a persistent cough.  The words he spoke chilled you to the bone.

“In two years time, Death will claim you.”