#guideinferno

[durativo]

@guideinferno​ based on some fucked up visual novel with the acronym DV

The Beasthead is so warm it glows in his palm -- it is a Beasthead from the last world he has been in. Crumbling it under his foot, it is no more, and he gropes at the cold one in his pocket. His world. The real world.

He has no desire to return just yet.

In the end, it all feels like a long dream, a long nightmare, unending, suffering, twisting, black tendrils, broken limbs, blood and guts -- they are so warm. So alive.

It must be a dream.

He does not want the dream to end.

So he continues, in every realm, to seek out the Beasthead, to be swallowed whole once more, and go deeper and deeper into the belly of the beasts. Until he came upon this world. This world... was calm. There was still monuments, in the town of Red Grave City, indicating things like war, famine, violence, death -- but no statues of Sparda. No dedications to the Red Grave Massacre. 

This time, he goes to a cafe, and he is mistaken for someone else. Only for a second.

The waiter calls him Vergil.

He corrects himself, tells Dante how he is so rarely out of the house, and so rare it is that he does not come with Vergil. They speak... with nervousness. Dante asks for a “usual” and gets a latte and a slice of red velvet cake. He isn’t hungry. He sees the money here is like his own, so he’s able to slap some down, and eats in silence. There’s murmuring. In the cafe, the patrons, and the workers.

He is the man, the gallery man, the one from the house in the graveyards.

The house in the graveyard.

The Sparda Estate.

Dante goes, although for a long, long time, he simply basks in the glory of his old home. There is a rope swing, withered and molded by rain and has spider webs. The garden is beautiful with blue and white roses. Dante admires them. They are wet with dew. He stays there for a long time, until the dew dries up, and finally, he approaches the house.

He knocks on the door.

[dantes--rebellion]

baal & sonneillon

baal: if you were a god, how would you prefer to be worshipped?

“Ha, that’s a scary thought. I’ve never been one for organized religion, so I guess I’d prefer not to be worshipped at all. No church, no ridiculous statues, no hymns in my name. All that stuff is so tacky. If I were a god, I’d just want the people to be good to each other, simple stuff.”

sonneillon: do you hate anyone?

“No. And I know that might surprise you most of all that I can say I don’t hate Mundus. Would I kill him again for all he’s done if I could? Yes; because it’s the right thing to do, that’s the justice he deserves. But I can’t let any hate for an enemy destroy my life. That’s not to say I’ve forgiven that galactic piece of shit, that’s another story.” @guideinferno

[criimsoncloud]

@guideinferno​

"You know, Vergil. Stabbing yourself and making me deal with your problems isn’t going to work all the time.”

A pause, his voice only heard by Vergil himself - no one else could hear him.

“... I wouldn’t know how to stop that damnable motorcycle either.”

[cantusgratia]

Puts a jar with what looks like a mess of flesh and blood, into the fridge, while maintaining eye-contact with her.

@guideinferno

Her nose scrunches up in confusion at his sudden entrance, and she squints in attempt to focus on what it is he holds so casually while he makes a beeline to her kitchen. 

Still wordlessly she stares at the event unfolding, eventually locking with his steely, unreadable gaze as he reaches for the door handle. 

Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth in displeasure. "Please use the fridge downstairs. I JUST cleaned that one." And then her focus settles right back onto the plates she's washing. 

[exxxceed]

@guideinferno​:  Hugs, and then stabs so he doesn’t get too comfortable.

“I guess this is.... an improvement?”

[gelum-lumen]

sonneillon & mammon

A pen spins slowly between agile fingers as the cambion seems to thoughtfully chew on such questions. After a long stretch of quiet, Vergil leans forward, resting his chin on his fist as he stares quite intensely at nothing in particular.

"Helplessness." Inky black tendrils appear in a vision. "I've been backed into a corner too many times in my life. How could I not hate the feeling? It makes me rash, it clouds my mind. It tricks me into thinking that a gluttonous lust for power will somehow protect me, will protect my family... It tricked me into losing half my life. Into losing precious memories with my brother. " He quiets again, a moment of pain on his face. "It made me miss my son's entire childhood.

"Maybe it's age... but now that I can see my own faults in Nero it's become clearer than ever how a fear of losing control of my life morphed into a quest for something I never needed. Power. Dominion. I thought I wanted to fly so high up no one could ever catch me... but all I wanted was to be the boy who loved his family again. I realize that now. "

Pale eyes flicker upward. "I suppose that answered your questions."

[leorugiet]

Trace uvu

Send “trace” to purposely touch one of my muse’s scars

@temptimmortal

He sits up in his hospital bed, looking to Vergil as he sits at the edge of his bed, the droning of the radio and a pathetic ceiling fan to blow hot muggy summer air around. One arm is in a cast, and theres a couple of scratches along his arms, all patched up, some forming pale white slivers. 

“It’s not that bad.” Cor remarked. “I’ve been through worse than this, that’s for sure. I’ll be back in it in a few... It’s just this damn arm is all.”

[spatiumferrumsecandi]

@guideinferno​ cont. [x]

“You can be cute and terrifying to demons, little master,” Yamato let go of Vergil’s cheeks, running his hand through the child’s hair. “It’s all in how you carry yourself,”

[deathvoids]

It would be easy to blame what he is feeling on his memory troubles and growing paranoid from his newfound lonesome life, but some long buried instinct tells him that someone is in his apartment. Someone is watching him. It’s a shoddy one bedroom flat without much place to hide but he arms himself with the biggest kitchen knife he can find, just in case. “Hello? I know you’re there. You better leave. The library got slapped with budget cuts, I won’t have anything to steal for a good while.”

The shadows are long and distorted this evening. Lights from the stadium. City lights. Neon signs. Street lamps. This one definitely did not live in a quiet place. Perhaps that’s why he worked in a quiet place. A library. Yet perhaps all the same he could not stand the dreaded loneliness of quiet.

Doppel could say he understood that.

Being alone, being in total darkness... it was not pleasant. 

Why send him? Doppel wonders and wonders. He supposes that The Master thinks he will be able to stalk without problems, but the truth is, he doesn’t know this man... He does not know where he is, or where he goes, merely where the phone calls come from. So Doppel came to the house, and found it empty, so he walked around, and waited.

He had moved a couple things.

When a noise starts, Doppel doesn’t think very fast, and slides under the bed, staring from underneath. He glances around. The pantry door is open, the underwear drawer (he had promised to bring one back for The Master), and the window was open, as he looked to see where he was. Of course... of course this one would know someone was here.

He tried to think. Think and think... how to escape. Just slip out of the shadows? He pushes out from under the bed, only to catch that one standing with a knife, and he shivers, panics, remembers the feel of a blade inside a core. Think -- think.

...

A small black cat steps out from under Vergil’s bed.

Stupid.

Of course that wouldn’t work! How would the cat open the drawer, or the pantry, let alone the window? 

Ah, well that one has spotted him. Doppel is trembling, and hisses on instinct, and darts away from the man, jumping to the windowsill, wanting space between him and the knife. His tail flicking wildly just like a cat lost in thought. He wants to think, but he knows he is definitely not thinking.

[criimsoncloud]

I dare you to kiss Dante, so he keeps his disgusting mouth away from me.

"What a difficult task you’ve given me - but I suppose someone has to keep that mouth of his busy - nothing else much is, after all." The corners of his lips quirked in a half smile, and V sauntered over to the seated demon hunter. He could feel Vergil’s eyes dig into his skull, watching - commanding - him as he climbed into Dante’s lap. Thin, bony fingers trailed up slowly, gripping Dante’s jaw upwards. Chapped lips slowly pressed upon Dante’s, starting out quite slow and languid, before V began to nip at the red hunter’s flesh. The moment that Dante’s lips parted, V’s tongue darted in, delving into his mouth without any hesitation. It was a filthy kiss once tongue was involved, hands going everywhere, hums and moans slipping from their kiss.

Once they parted, a thin string of saliva still connected them together, glimmering in the office’s hazy light. He sat comfortably upon Dante, not allowing the man to move a single inch, leaning his head back to meet Vergil’s eyes.

“I do hope this pleases you, Vergil.”

( @durativo )

[pactsborn]

“Once you feel the power of that place, you make up the sweetest smelling reasons to go back.” drag him, dad uvu

@guideinferno || pet sematary

“Sweet-smelling, huh,” Griffon appears contemplative for a moment before the usual, more characteristic snark returns to his tone. “Guess you don’t mean the underworld then, unless your nose is broken. Even I can admit that it stinks down there, and not just literally.” Figuratively, too, there is a rot in those realms that permeates everything. It warps itself, and it changes its inhabitants, too. 

The feathers around his neck ruffle. “No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. It’s Red Grave, right? Gonna go fuck it up again because you never learn? You need a hobby, big guy. Fill your life with something more than the need to ruin shit for everyone. Want to know what I think?” Since this is Griffon, of course, the question is rhetorical and he has little interest in a response, continuing before Vergil can cut in. “I think what smells sweetest to you is the past. It hurts you but you can’t or aren’t willing to let go of it, and keep damaging yourself and everyone around you because that’s easier than processing any of it and moving on.”

Head tilts, and affixes Vergil with a challenging, six-irised look. “How’d I do? Am I getting warm?”

[exxxceed]

lucifer & ornias

lucifer: what are you most proud of? |  ornias: talk about a time where you felt drained of energy

He... pauses. For a moment. Watching Vergil closely. This ground is still all so new and untrodden, and he’s aware enough of what might be a sensitive topic to take his time mulling the words over in his head.

“My family,” he says finally, meeting Vergil’s eye. It’s not a challenge, but he’s also not going to shy away from the truth. “Kyrie and the kids. The home we’ve made. What we’ve got. I mean... it’s not a lot, but it’s ours, y’know?”

He’s not sure what to make of the quiet that follows, but he moves on quickly. He’s not a fan of lingering awkward silences.

“As for the second....”

It’s almost funny. The one time he felt the most drained. The one time that clings to his memory like cold, icy fingers...

“... right before the sword came to me. Yamato. Pretty sure it saved my life. Woke somethin’ up inside me. But right before that moment... that was the most empty I’ve ever felt.”

[cantusgratia]

azazel & sonneillon

Ask About My Demons || accepting

azazel: talk about a time when you were falsely blamed for something

“Let’s see... I’ve apparently seduced men, caused them to sin against their beloved. I supposedly sabotaged my rivals at the age of eight, and kept them from earning the adoration of audiences and becoming lead cantor. The Songstress title wasn’t mine to have either, since I bribed clergymen for the role.” 

She omits the stories regarding her own family, Credo, and Nero. Those accusations still hurt.

sonneillon: do you hate anyone?

“I do.”

And she leaves it at that.

[windofdogma]

@guideinferno​ replied:

“The rumours had it that he lost it when his partner vanished. Some even think he that he had a hand in his disappearance. They were allegedly quite ...close.”

“Dante, your brother’s out again.”

[corvidamned]

@guideinferno​ | said: !! uvu

   A war-torn knight of two worlds, insulted by peace but coming around to curb greater hubris if it means combat with one just-as-miserable cowboy. With strong square features, devilish silver hair, a rose thorn military duster, and a...blue ribbon on the sheath of his Yamato, it’s no easy task to pull what sentiments vex his sacred heart today, but the best one can deduce is from his words spoken. And should his own nature prove admirable to himself, she hoped, words written.

[whiiskeyandrye]

guideinferno replied to your post “I’m too retro for my own good.”

This is why dad liked me more.

"Hey, dad was quite retro too, you know!” Pause. “Victorian retro.”