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solynaceawrites · 4 years

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Wires [4]: Frustration

Rating: Mature Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/F, F/M Fandom: Devil May Cry Relationships: Dante/Original Female Character(s), Implied Nero/Kyrie, Implied Vergil/Original Female Character(s), Implied Lady/Trish, Dante/Lirael Thorne, Dante/Lir Characters: Dante, Morrison, Nero, Original Female Character(s), Lirael Thorne, Lir Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Violence, Gore, Dark, Horror, Supernatural Elements, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Serial Killers, Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut Summary: In Red Grave City, a serial killer stalks the streets. Lirael Thorne, recently transferred from Fortuna and looking for an escape from her past, winds up on his trail. Hunting him with her veteran partner, Dante Redgrave, they try to piece together the wires that bind the three of them together. In a race to catch him before he leaves more victims in his wake, the things thought buried will come to the surface, tearing lives and comfort apart.

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“Death and life are the same thing- like the two sides of my hand, the palm and the back. And still the palm and back are not the same . . . They can neither be separated, nor mixed.” —Ursula K. Le Guin

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Lir takes Simon Marson’s statement with a grain of salt. It’s not that she doesn’t trust him—she doesn’t trust lawyers as a whole, but nothing so far has given her a reason to believe he’d outright lie—just that she’s learned firsthand how memories get clouded and fuzzy, particularly about routines. Sure, their victim worked for him. And, yes, she probably did the exact same thing every day, going to her paid internship at her father’s office Monday through Saturday, taking Sunday off, and spending Friday night bar-hopping with her friends. Yet there’s simply too much Marson was unaware of. The questions of who her friends are, what she did when she wasn’t working, her hobbies, any potential lovers, hell even where she lived, are all ones he provided no answer to or understanding of. To him, Sophie truly existed only in the hours between 8:00 am and 6:30 pm. Which isn’t exactly unusual, but it makes her job of following those leads harder, and she ends their interview feeling more irritated than she had when she started.

Dante, too, must be frustrated, because he says nothing at all to her when he leaves the observation room to join her at their desks, merely clacking angrily on his keyboard as he types his report. Lir does the same, transcribing the interview with Marson and her notes to send to Morrison later. A stiff drink is what she needs, maybe a call to Joan for a bit of relaxation, but she settles for chewing aspirin and drinking the bitter coffee unique to precincts. By the time she’s done recounting the events of the last thirty-six hours, her fingers are stiff and the throbbing in her temples has turned into a fierce clawing that makes her eyes water, and she’s keenly aware of the fact that they’re fast closing in on the forty-eight hour mark and how much more difficult this investigation is going to be beyond it.

“You eaten?” Dante asks. Lir shakes her head, and he picks up his phone, dialing quickly. “Me neither. ‘Bout to keel over, if I’m honest. You good with pizza?”

“Sure. Whatever toppings are fine.”

He flashes her a grin before speaking into the receiver, and Lir uses the time to read back over Trish’s findings. They aren’t pretty. While there were no ligature marks, showing that Sophie was neither restrained nor strangled, there were heavy levels of Rohypnol in her blood, meaning she would have been unable to do anything at all. In fact, Trish notes that the dose probably would have been fatal, given the fact that Sophie was well over the legal limit for intoxication, clocking a BA of 0.16%, putting her at the threshold for alcohol poisoning. Did she normally drink so much? Lir runs her fingers over the paper, frowning slightly as she thinks. Joan hadn’t said much more about Sophie’s habits other than her cocktail of choice, and they hadn’t asked for a receipt, a stupid oversight that needs to be corrected. Because if that much liquor was’t common for Sophie, it means either she was drinking a lot more, which could lead them to recent stresses.

Or that the killer was feeding her margaritas all night to make sure she was too weak to fight him.

“There was no phone recovered from the alley, right?” she asks. Dante gives a grunt as he hangs up the phone, and she leans back, stretching to relieve the tension in her shoulders. “We’ve got to find her friends, talk to them.”

“What about the mother?”

“Gone. Parents divorced when Sophie was . . .” Lir checks her notes. “Six. The original custody agreement was for the mom to have supervised visitation, but she went no contact when Sophie was twelve. The last Marson heard from her, she was living with her new husband in Portland.”

Dante whistles. “No contact? Think Marson was abusing her?”

“Maybe. But why would Sophie hang around, if that was the case? You watch your dad beat on your mom for six years and wind up working for him?”

He grunts and leans back, crossing his arms over his chest and staring thoughtfully at a spot just over her right shoulder. “Abuse doesn’t always make it to the kids,” he says after a moment. “Sure, maybe pops was an asshole, but he was probably smart enough to keep it behind closed doors. Or maybe there wasn’t anything goin’ on other than two people who didn’t want to be together anymore.” He pauses to take a sip of coffee. “Could have been mom, too.”

“Right.” Lir massages her temples, and the pressure there subsides enough that she no longer feels like her eyes are going to burst. A migraine is the last thing she needs right now, but that’s exactly where she’s headed if she doesn’t get some sort of rest soon. “So, we have a victim whose father knows nothing about her personal life, a killer who was smart enough to make sure we couldn’t trace her beyond the bar, and, after nearly forty hours, no real answers.”

“Sounds about right.” Dante’s grin is bitter.

“Fuck.” She drums her fingers on her desk. “Crime scene still roped off?”

“As far as I know. You plannin’ a visit?”

“Yeah. I need to get some air, and I want to take it in now that it’s quiet.” Lir grabs her coat from the back of her chair as she stands, sliding it on before leaning to open her desk and grab her gun and badge. Fastening them to her belt, she mutters, “Maybe something got missed.”

Dante gets up, stretching with a loud yawn. “Alright. I’ll go with you.”

“I don’t need—”

“I’m not babysittin’ you, Lir.” His eyes are somehow both grave and mocking, and she’s not sure which irritates her more. “There’s a killer. None of us should be goin’ out alone, especially with the statistics about who else might show up there to get their jollies.”

That gives her pause. “Right. Okay. You driving?”

He dangles his keys. Lips twitching, she turns and heads down the stairs and out to the lot, listening to the quiet thumping of Dante’s shoes as he follows her. For someone so big, he doesn’t make a lot of noise when he moves, and she wonders idly if it’s a force of habit or just how he is as she slides into the passenger seat of his car and fastens her seatbelt. Like always, he flicks on the radio and finds a classic rock station before starting the drive, and he ignores her popping two aspirin into her mouth and chewing them dry.

The ride back to the alley passes in the silence between them. Lir looks out of her window, the rain sliding along the glass turning the world outside to a muted painting of blurred shapes and bright flashes of color on an otherwise dreary background, and thinks. Sophie Marsons had gone to the bar, as was her usual weekend habit, and ordered her preferred drink. Had she gone with friends? Had they danced, and laughed, until a stranger stole into their group, with eyes only for Sophie, eyes full of murder that she might have mistaken for desire? Despite what she had said to Dante about their victim being chosen randomly, Lir has little doubt that she knew her killer. Statistics point to it, the inevitable need for the comfort brought by familiarity that a new killer needs to do his work. Statistics, the voice of her old academy instructor rasps in her mind, are statistically incorrect.

If Sophie wasn’t the first, then there’s another victim out there.

Cold, bitter rain lashes her as soon as she steps out of the car. Huffing, watching her breath condense and twist in the air, Lir pulls her hood up around her face and tucks her hands into her pockets, wishing she had a slicker even if the garish yellow color of it would make her stick out like a sore thumb. Dante joins her, grimacing as he sets a black trilby on his head, water dripping from the brim steadily. “Good thing we already got forensics,” he mutters.

“Mm.” Making a non-committal noise in her throat, she ducks under the crime scene tape and walks into the alley, where she stands and takes it in. Without pedestrian and vehicular traffic on the street, it’s unnervingly quiet; is this how it was at four in the morning? Nothing but silence as the dull oppressiveness of the city while Sophie was carved open like livestock?

Lir is moving towards the dumpster when something rustles behind it. Pausing, she stares at it, her brow pinched and her hand moving slowly to her gun, waiting. Cat, she thinks, or rat. Something digging for scraps now that humanity has gone away. But the silhouette she can just make out on the other side is too large, and, as she watches, a tanned hand grips the edge before a rain-soaked head pokes cautiously around, the eyes that she sees wide enough that the whites are like spotlights. Behind her, she hears Dante hiss, the faint splash of water as he slowly comes up beside her. Looks like he was right. Someone else had shown up, and now all that’s left to do is figure out whether or not they’re the murderer.

“Police,” Dante barks. “Don’t move!”

The man jumps to his feet and takes off, and Lir lets out a string of curses as she darts after him. They always fucking run, guilty or innocent, because seeing a cop always makes them feel like they’ve done something wrong. Bearers of bad news, thugs with guns, she’s heard it all, and she wonders how this guy thinks of the police even as she chases him down the winding alleys of a city she’s already growing to hate. “Thorne!” Dante shouts, his voice dwindling as the distance between them grows. “Goddamnit, Thorne!”

Up ahead, the black coat swirls as the man rushes through the maze. Sometimes all she has is a glimpse of fabric as he turns a corner, others, on the straight, narrow stretches, she can make out more of him, and her mind catalogues these snapshots. Slender build. Dark jeans. Heavy boots. The glint of a ring. A pair of wild eyes peering over his shoulder. Despite knowing she should draw it, Lir leaves her gun holstered. Don’t you ever, her instructor had said gravely, take that thing out unless you intend to shoot, and she’s got no desire to fire a bullet that would at best embed itself harmlessly into a wall and at worst ricochet and cause more damage.

Her hood falls back, rain plastering her hair to face and neck. In her chest, her heart is a drum, and her blood roars in her ears, equaled only by the low whistle of her breathing as she tries to control it to fight off fatigue. Keep moving, she tells her legs, don’t fucking stop until you know who he is.

At her hip, her radio crackles, only to be ignored. Right now, it is only her and her prey, locked in the chase until one of them is forced to stop. Guilty people run, sure. So do frightened ones. Which is he? Killer or morbid onlooker, dangerous or afraid?

Lir never gets the chance to find out. They burst into a side-street, the cars around them blaring horns of fear and anger at this sudden intrusion, and a hand clamps onto her shoulder and yanks her back as a truck passes through the space she’d been about to step into. By the time it and its trailer clear out, the man is gone, and a scream bubbles in her throat that she fights to swallow. She knows who grabbed her—the scent of Dante’s cologne, muted by the rain, wafts into her nose, accompanied by the spiced, salty blend of sweat and deodorant—and she allows him to lead her back to the sidewalk, where she doubles over with her hands on her thighs and struggles to slow her breathing from the harsh, jagged pants to something close to normal. At this angle, she can make out the way water has turned the leather of his shoes a dull brown. Never gonna look nice again, she thinks, and closes her eyes against the swell of nausea that comes from exertion on an empty stomach.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Dante growls, his voice rasping and hoarse from chasing her. “You ever stop to think for a damned second that we’d need backup? Or that chasing that idiot could have gotten you killed?”

The scolding makes her angry all over again. “I’m sorry,” she snaps, straightening to glare at him. “Should I have let our only lead so far go?”

“If it meant surviving? Yeah, you should’ve. Or were you hoping to wind up like Marsons?” His eyes are cold with fury, his cheeks flushed with it. “I told you, I fucking told you—”

Lir’s phone rings, cutting off whatever tirade he’d been heading towards. Scowling, she answers it. “Thorne.”

“You with Redgrave?” Morrison asks, crackling with static.

“Yeah.” Dante makes an impatient motion with his hand, and she holds up a finger in the standard request for a minute of silence.

“Get your asses over to Tellula Park. He’ll know where it is.”

There’s something so foreboding about Morrison’s tone that Lir knows the answer to her question before she even asks it. “What’s there?”

Morrison sighs. “Another body. Looks like our killer didn’t want to wait for us to catch him.”

“We’ll be there.” She hangs up, then looks at Dante, frustration and defeat welling within her to make her voice curiously flat. “There’s another victim in Tellula Park.”

Dante curses. “Our guy?”

“Morrison said it was,” she replies.

He glances around, studying the street sign at the intersection. “C’mon. Car’s about two blocks away. We’ll have to book it if we don’t want Morrison to rip us new assholes for taking our sweet time.”

Lir nods. Dante turns and starts down the sidewalk, and she follows, craving a drink and a good night’s rest and maybe a bit of company, angry to have wasted time on some idiot onlooker when the killer was busy leaving them another corpse, another family to notify, another twisted web. I didn’t know, she thinks, and that just makes her feel worse. Tunnel vision, that’s what she had fallen into, too focused on what was in front of her nose to take a second to really contemplate if a killer who took such care not to be noticed would have been so stupid as to come back to the scene of his crime in the middle of the day with cops still around.

They’re sweating and miserably damp by the time they reach the car. Dante pulls towels from the backseat for them to sit on—something her father had done, to keep water from damaging the seats—and turns on the heater to fight some of the chill. It’s only once they’re on their way to the new scene that he says anything at all. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Lir’s head snaps towards him at both the words and the sympathy within them. Not that it’s unusual for cops to know how their partner feels, but usually that takes years of working together, not days, so either he’s particularly good and reading the people around him or he’s projecting. “What?”

“The new victim,” he explains. “Wasn’t anything you could have done. We had and have nothing to go on, and you chasin’ that guy didn’t get this one killed. Or,” his mouth twitches, “do you think you’re better than every other cop on the force?”

“Of course not,” she protests hotly. “I just . . .”

Dante cracks the window and lights a cigarette that he pulls from the pack in his door. “Look,” he says, exhaling smoke, “I get it. You’re new, gotta prove yourself, and this guy is a pain in the ass. But you ain’t got any control over him, or what he does. Only thing you can do is learn, be better, so you can catch him.”

It’s spoken in the same tone he might have used to console a weeping toddler, and she bristles. “You don’t know me.”

“No, but I read your file.” He glances at her as he tosses the cigarette, still half-lit, out of the window. “You know what was top and center on the behavior section? Empathetic. You feel things, Thorne, feel ‘em deep, maybe, and that’s great for gettin’ inside the head of whoever’s doin’ this, but it means he can get inside your head, too, if you let him.”

She sinks into her seat, thinking of her dream, and gooseflesh breaks out across her arms despite the warm air blowing from the vents. “So what’s your drive, then? Fame? Promotions?”

Dante snorts. “Nah. Just don’t like bastards who hurt women, that’s all.” He pauses, then exhales slowly. “Look. I’m not gonna rat you out to Morrison. You made a decision that anyone else would’ve made. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t a fucking stupid decision, but . . . It stays between us. Right?”

There’s a rush of gratitude that she hates feeling. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay,” he agrees amicably.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante #dante sparda #dmc oc #lirael thorne #lir #dmc fanfic #dmc fanfiction #writing #story #myfic #wires

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louadorable126 · 4 years

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Demons(you).me - Chapter 6 Redgrave Market

>>Click here to Read over on AO3!<<

Art by Aya/ITOUYAS! <3

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Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady's life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

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Important information!

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Realtionships: Dante x Lady, Vergil x Lady

Characters: Lady, Dante, Vergil, Morrison, Nell Goldstien, Eva, Sparda, Mundus

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Genetic Engineering, Sci-fi Fantasy, Strip Clubs and Strippers, Dystopia, Seizures, Flirting, Eva and Sprada are alive!, Human Experimentation, Cults.

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Chapter 6

“Hang on. You want me to do what?!” A familiar deep voice, on the other end of the phone, exclaimed.

“I need you to find us a way into that event, Morrison!” Lady repeated herself; words laced with growing frustration. Her hand tightening its hold around the bright yellow ceiling handle hanging above her. “Yes, I know you don’t deal with the Cult of Fortuna! But this is really kinda urgent!”

The heat of the compartment was really starting to get to her. Sweat beads welling up on her forehead and covering it in a wet, salty glaze. It was hard to tell if this was because of the stress of negotiating with Morrison, or the 60 or so people rammed into the same monorail cart around her - pressed up against one another like sheep in an inclosed pen. It felt as though she was being cooked in a gruelling dry oven. The air conditioning unit stationed above her, trying its best as it worked overtime to pump small blasts of cool air in the mercenary’s direction, to little avail except for a brief millisecond of chilly relief she gained from it.

Her compatriots, likewise, also seemed to be uncomfortable in their current situation.

Apparently, Dante’s already non-existent attention span had been quickly eroded away in the 15 or so minutes he had been forced to stand here. Well…not really stand. As he had leaned back against one of the glass archways, in-between the main seating area and the exit door, arms crossed. Obviously rather bored, if the occasional upset, deep sighs she heard coming from his direction, were anything to go by. Alongside the sweet sound of him humming some kind of rock song, unbeknownst to anyone but himself, and tapping his foot on the floor to its invisible beat. His eyes closed, although occasionally peaking one sapphire eye open to see if their final destination was coming up on the floating holographic sign above them. Only to always be sorely disappointed, then returning to his sweet humming.

Vergil, meanwhile, was sitting on a small plastic bench in between the pair of them. It seemed he had declared some sort of silent, and bloody war against a screaming and whining young child across from them; the child’s ignorant mother taking no action to stop them. His sharp eyes fixed intently on the small, high-pitched creature. Glaring at them angrily, as though the demon thought that by some miracle, it would get the child to shut up. That...obviously wasn’t working however, and the little boy continued to screech regardless.

Lady took the opportunity to slip a glance over her shoulder at the elder twin, while her conversation between her and her employer lulled for a moment. Morrison deep in thought as he lit up another cigar.

It was crystal clear from how tense and rigid the blue demon’s body language was becoming - his sharp pale jawline, peaking from beneath the veil of shadows covering his aristocratic features, hardening - that Vergil was soon going to blow. Massively. Which given the elder twin's track record for bloody slaughter, could only really lead to a disaster on a packed train like this. All Lady could do was hold her breath, and hope they could get off this nightmarish train before that happened.

“Alright. Cause’ its you little missy, I’ll see what I can do.” Morrison relented. A touch of fatherly gruffness to his voice. "Not making any promises though. Fuck. I don’t even wanna to think about whose strings I’m gonna have to tug to pull this off!”

“I certainly appreciate it, Morrison. Cheers.” Lady thanked, before ending the call. Sliding her phone into her skirt pocket.

“So is he going to do it?” Dante asked. Smiling hopefully at her.

“Sounds like it.” Lady confirmed with a nod. Switching her cramping arm, holding onto the ceiling handle, over to the other. “I’m sure he’ll pull through with something.”

More accurately, they needed him to pull through with something.

Despite being the one to send them off on this perilous quest in the first place. Augustus had been kind enough to provide them as much information as he could gather about this “Charity Ball”. Sending through several of the emails he had received from the cult’s network, after the group had handed back his laptop.

And it was just as well he had! Because, as it turned out, the Charity Ball drastically moved location every time it was held. From fancy restaurants on the middle floor to a gentrified warehouse in the slums. However, this time it seemed the location of choice was a small expo centre. Ironically, it was surprisingly close to the hotel where she had first encountered Vergil.

But, even if they at least knew this secret meeting's location, it still didn’t mean they had any way to actually enter the Ball. It was an invite only event. Unless Lady wanted to bankrupt herself a few hundred times over, she sure as hell was not buying her way inside! It wasn’t even like the twins could do much to help either, even with their father’s limitless wealth. As Vergil had pointed out, it would be obvious they came from a demonic household, given that they weren’t already a part of the pre-established wealthy society of humans. And thus, given the Cult of Fortuna’s fears about being found out by the demonic authorities, they’d be swiftly rejected regardless.

“MUUUUUUUUUUM I WANNA GET OFF! THIS SO BORING!” The bratty child screamed at the top of his lungs. Before pointing a chubby finger over in the group's direction. “SERIOUSLY THIS PLACE SMELLS FUNNY!! ESPECIALLY THAT CREEPY GUY WHO KEEPS STARING AT ME-“

The child didn’t have a chance to finish. Pinned against the opposite train wall by the sharp tip of Yamato’s silver blade, held dubiously resting above the boy's heart, in less than the blink of an eye. The boy fell, choked on his words. Only letting out a small whimper in terror as he looked up at the towering man before him. The whole crowd erupted into a mania of panicked screaming and backing away from the scene. Leaving a circle of free space around them.

Crap, this isn’t good! Lady thought to herself. Silently cursing the child for antagonising Vergil when they had seemed so close to being able to get off without a hitch. The next station’s only a minute away, dammit!

“What on earth are you doing!” The child’s mother cried hysterically. Reaching out to push him off her son, before being stopped dead in her tracks by Vergil’s cutting glare.

“Teaching your child the consequences of his actions.” Vergil informed her sharply. A look of genuine confusion shot onto the woman’s features at his declaration. As though she had no idea what he was talking about."You really are a terrible mother, aren’t you? Don’t you realise there are other people on this train who do not wish to hear your child's screeching? You are not only neglectful to your son, but also to common decency.”

The mother grew enraged at his accusation. Clenching one hand tightly around the handle of her crimson handbag, as her heart-shaped face twisted and disfigured in offence. “B-but I don’t control what my son does! He’s his own person-“

“Yes. But as his guardian you have an obligation to do something, woman!” Vergil snapped angrily.

“Yeah, as much as my bro might be overreacting. He’s kinda got a point lady.” Dante chimed in. Causally moving to stand over beside Vergil so that they were back to back; Dante leaning a portion of his body weight against his brother.

Subtly, he elbowed his twin’s lower back. Getting Vergil’s attention off the child and towards him. The blue demon tilted his head over his shoulder in Dante’s direction, before leaning in close and whispering into his ear. “Think the kid’s got the idea, Verge. Wanna let him go?”

At his brother’s words, Vergil withdrew his blade. Returning Yamato back to its holster under his coat with a satisfying click. He turned away with a flourish of his blue coat, leaving the now silent child in his tracks. As he headed for the train doors, the packed crowd standing in his path shifted aside for him, like he was parting the Red Sea, just as a masculine, artificial voice stated; “We will shortly be arriving at Redgrave Market Station. Please stand clear of the doors for those exiting.”

“That’s our stop! You coming babe?” Dante called out over his shoulder, walking straight past Lady after his brother, as the train’s heavy doors slid open and bright artificial street light flooded through into the dim cabin. Illuminating their escape.

“Yep!” Lady exclaimed, embarrassingly high-pitched. Finding it hard to keep her cool with all these people, likely hundreds, staring at her. After quickly sparing a glance to check if the young boy was ok - which seemed to be the case, as his mother cradled the now crying child close to her chest, ironically finally paying him the scrap of obviously needed attention - the mercenary fled the train just as its metal doors slammed shut behind her.

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Click here to read more over on Ao3! :D

#devil may cry #dmc #dante #vergil #dante sparda #vergil sparda #dmc lady #dmc dante #dmc vergil #devil may cry fanfiction

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themurphyzone · 7 years

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Mayor Murphy Ch 2

Ch 2- Isabelle and Exposition

As soon as Milo set one foot outside the train station, he was immediately swarmed by several excited anthropomorphic animals. “Is that the new mayor?” a white squirrel asked. “I sincerely hope I’m not seeing things.”

“Oh, Marshal. Patience is a virtue,” a doe rolled her eyes.

An alligator huffed. “Who cares? Let the guy speak already!”

A yellow dog gestured for them to calm down. Perched on top of her head was a pair of bells that rang with every move she made. “From us to you, we say, WELCOME TO FORTUNA!”

Everyone released party poppers, cheering. They failed to notice Milo’s confusion. He waved shyly. “Um, hi?”

“Milo! What’s going on out here?” Melissa demanded, rushing out of the station. “Who are you people?”

“Animals? People-animals?” Sara scratched her head. “Did we get off at the right stop?”

“Everyone keeps saying Fortuna, so we must be in the correct place,” Zack reasoned. “But first, we’re just here on a penpal exchange. Do you guys not get a lot of people coming through here?”

The yellow dog bowed in apology. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’ve been planning this day for months since Tortimer retired that I didn’t really prepare a good explanation!” Starry eyed, she grabbed Milo’s hands. “And you, you’re perfect for the job! This sweatervest just radiates power! The storing capacity of your backpack!”

Sara gently pried her off Milo. “We really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Eep!” she bowed so quickly several times that Milo thought she was going to get whiplash. “I need to explain stuff better! I’m so sorry! My name is Isabelle, and I’m the secretary! But we’ll get to that in a moment. The more important thing is, you’re our mayor!”

“Mayor?” Milo gasped. “Well, as cool as that sounds, I just got out of 7th grade. I don’t know much about civics.”

“That’s okay, Mayor Milo! I handle all the paperwork around here! Now, we should really continue this discussion at Town Hall. So if you and your friends would kindly follow me,” Isabelle said.

The other animals whispered to each other, sneaking curious glances at them as they walked away.

Fortuna looked like a great place to live in, even if it was rather vacant. They passed by several small flower gardens, surrounded by honeybees and small, white butterflies. Peaches blossomed on the trees, though one in particular caught Milo’s eye.

“Hey, Isabelle?” Milo asked, interrupting her spiel about the previous mayor. “What kind of peach is that? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He pointed to a golden peach that hung on the lowest branch of a nearby tree.

“An excellent question, Mayor Milo!” Isabelle tapped the trunk. “This here is what we like to call a Perfect Peach! There are many varieties of Perfect Fruit, and if you sell only one of these babies to a town where it’s not native, then you get a whole lot of Bells!”

“Bells?” Melissa asked.

“I’m getting ahead of myself. It would be a lot easier if you learn by doing these things!” Isabelle set off at a much quicker pace, forcing everyone to run so they could keep up with her. “Town Hall is just over that bridge!” She pointed to a flowing, sky blue river with an old bridge above it. On the other bank rested an impressive building with the words “Town Hall” on a wooden plaque above the entrance.

Isabelle crossed the rickety bridge with ease, lightly humming as she waited for everyone else. “You guys might want to cross first,” Milo offered.

Melissa set one foot on the bridge, tensely clutching the ropes as she carefully moved to the other side. Zack made it across after much encouragement. Melissa patted his back as he breathed heavily. Sara slipped her arm around a coil of rope before carefully moving across, her foot nearly going through a gap in the blanks.

“Come on, Milo!” Melissa yelled.

Milo hiked up his backpack, wobbling as the bridge swayed beneath his feet. He made it to the middle before the plank beneath him collapsed, dropping him several feet into the water below.

Milo splashed around wildly for a few seconds before realizing that he wasn’t moving. Isabelle giggled. “You’re so silly, Mayor Milo! The rivers aren’t deep at all around these parts!”

“By any chance, are you aware of Murphy’s Law?” Milo asked, grabbing the end of the rope Sara threw to him. She and Zack hauled him onto the bank, unfolding a towel so he could dry off.

“No, I’ve never heard of it,” Isabelle said.

“It just means anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” Melissa explained. “Milo’s descended from the guy it was named for.”

“It’s a family thing,” Sara added. “But we usually try to see it as a way to explore more opportunities.”

“That’s interesting! It would liven up the town a little more!” Isabelle clapped. “Let’s go in. I might have spare clothes lying around somewhere....” She opened the door, her short, poofy tail wagging in excitement.

They took advantage of the waiting area at the front while Isabelle dug around for a spare set of clothes. “I’m so confused right now,” Zack shook his head.

“Join the club,” Melissa muttered.

Sara looked up from drying Milo’s hair. “We were caught so off guard that we left all our luggage at the train station. We’d better grab it the first chance we get.”

“I don’t think it’s so bad. Suddenly being declared mayor aside, of course,” Milo said.

Isabelle carried a bundle of clothes back to them. “Here’s what we have available! I have to find the paperwork, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll need to go find that too. I’m so sorry, I’ll try to be better organized in the future! I promise!”

She dropped the clothes on an empty seat and ducked behind the counter, several crumpled up sheets of paper flying through the air. Milo looked through the pile, selecting a red t-shirt with a diamond pattern and a pair of jeans. “Isabelle?” he called. “I hate to interrupt, but do you happen to have anywhere private I could change?”

There was a muffled “ow” as she withdrew her head from a cabinet. “No, you aren’t interrupting anything! And don’t worry about a thing. One size fits all, otherwise it wouldn’t be made from the Able Sisters!” She led Milo to a small office in the back, smiling as she shut the door. “I’ll have the paperwork out before you know it, so please take your time!”

The first thing in the room Milo noticed was the enormous painting of what appeared to be an old tortoise with a beard. It hung above an empty fireplace, obviously well-kept and free of dust. A polished, dark brown desk proudly sat in the middle of the room. Milo draped his wet clothes on a chair and pulled on the set Isabelle had generously provided.

“She wasn’t kidding. One size really does fit all,” Milo marveled at how comfortable the jeans was. As an afterthought, he also brought out a spare sweatervest from his backpack and pulled it over the shirt. He spun around in the plush, black chair for several minutes before stepping out.

Isabelle grinned. “I knew you would look good in the red argyle tee! Even if I don’t have much of an eye for fashion.”

“Okay, so could you please explain all this mayor stuff?” Zack asked. “And about the penpal program?”

“Ah! I forgot to tell your penpals to include that in correspondence!” Isabelle shrieked. “Okay, our former mayor Tortimer decided to retire so he could enjoy his golden years in peace. This caused a major disruption in the time stream of Crossing Valley. My twin brother, Digby, came up with the idea of the penpal program to find eligible young people to take his place.”

“Did you say time stream?” Sara gasped. “Milo, it’s like we’re living in an episode of Dr. Zone! This is gonna be so cool! But what exactly is Crossing Valley?”

It was Isabelle’s turn to be in shock. “You’ve never heard of Crossing Valley? Fortuna is just one of many towns in it! All the towns are at different points in time, so while it’s the beginning of summer here, it could easily be Toy Day elsewhere. And that’s just scratching the surface. I know we look cut off if you just look at the size of the cliffs, but with a few Public Works Projects, PWPs for short, we could easily have contact with other towns.”

“Right, so time stuff. Okay then,” Zack said.

“It really does sound like a Dr. Zone episode,” Milo said.

Isabelle glanced at him. “Mayor, who is Dr. Zone?”

“He’s a character from a TV show we like,” Sara said. “Say, do you get cable out here?”

Isabelle shook her head. “Programming in Crossing Valley and the outside world tend to be very different. However, we do have wi-fi.”

Sara deflated. “Guess we’re livestreaming Dr. Zone for the summer, Milo. It doesn’t really feel as good if we aren’t watching it on the big screen.”

“Before I give you the paperwork, you need to go visit Nook’s Homes. It’s a big real estate office, you can’t miss it! Just cross the railroad tracks and you’ll be there in no time! You need to be a resident of the town before we can officially declare you mayor,” Isabelle said. “Also, Digby can answer more questions about the penpal program. We’re trying something new to attract more animals to move in, but he’ll be able to tell you more about that than I ever could, the dork.”

“Real estate? Hold on, I don’t have the money to purchase a house!” Milo protested.

“It’s not hard to make Bells around here. But for now, just focus on finding a good place to live,” Isabelle ushered everyone out of Town Hall, waving to them.

“All in favor of going with the flow?” Sara asked. Everyone nodded. “As I thought. Isabelle’s nice and stuff, but I don’t thinks she realizes that you aren’t staying here permanently.”

They walked along the riverbank, finding a cobblestone bridge downstream. While crossing, a rabbit with three gaping, empty holes in the middle of her head stopped them. “Hi, you’re our new mayor, right? Diana told me the news, doyoing! Oh, my name is Coco! It’s a pleasure!”

Zack stiffened. “What’s up with your face?”

Melissa lightly punched him on the shoulder. “Don’t be rude!” she growled.

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” Coco replied. Her facial expressions didn’t move as she spoke, so it was impossible to tell if she was offended by the question. “I’m actually a spirit possessing a haniwa.”

She skipped away, oblivious to Zack freaking out. “I have no idea what a haniwa is,” Melissa said.

“They’re terracotta figures that were used for funeral rites in Ancient Japan,” Sara explained.

“Let me guess, you learned about it from Dr. Zone,” Melissa said.

“No, she’s just really into history,” Milo smiled.

As they swung by the train station to pick up their belongings, they discovered all their luggage was missing. “Hey, monkey man!” Sara shouted. She lifted up him by his shirt, the monkey anxiously squeaking in shock. “What happened to all our things? We have valuables, you know!”

“Double eek eek! It’s all been taken care of! The Nook’s Homes crew have your things and are waiting for you right now!” the monkey screeched.

“This is way too much exposition for one day,” Melissa sighed.

#milo murphy's law #mayor murphy #animal crossing #i have coco in my town i couldn't resist putting her in #isabelle is so cute

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phgq · 4 years

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Bukidnon schools receive aid from ‘Bisaya Gyud’ program

#PHinfo: Bukidnon schools receive aid from ‘Bisaya Gyud’ program

BUTUAN CITY, Jan. 26 (PIA) -- Lending aid to teachers in sustaining the implementation of distance learning, the Bisaya Gyud program donated reams of bond papers to La Fortuna Elementary School in Impasug-ong, Bukidnon.

‘Bisaya Gyud’ is a weekly public service and entertainment program hosted by the Presidential Communications Operations Office (PCOO) Secretary Martin Andanar. Initially launched to help underprivileged Bisaya Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs), the program’s scope has progressed to serving Bisaya Filipinos nationwide since the onset of the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic, delivering grassroots information on the efforts of local and national governments to address the people’s needs during the health crisis whilst launching their own initiatives through the ‘Operation Tabang.’

Under its Operation Tabang – Bond Paper Gift Project, the program donates reams of bond papers to disadvantaged schools in the Kabisay-an areas in the country as aid for the implementation of blended learning amid the COVID-19 pandemic.

School-In-Charge Nicodemos Oculares expressed gratitude on behalf of the school staff and students to the Bisaya Gyud team for their generosity.

“Nagapasalamat ako sa Bisaya Gyud Program na sa taliwala man sa kadaghan sa mga tulunghaan nga nahisakop ani nga division, usa kami na napili nga recipient sa gasa sa pagpanghatag ug bond paper [I am thankful for the Bisaya Gyud Program for choosing our school, among the many schools that belong to our school division, as a recipient of their blessing],” the school head said.

Meanwhile, teachers continue to overcome the challenges of pursuing education in the new normal. For Teacher Jessebel Cabugwason, her greatest concern is not being able to attend to the learning needs of her students.

“Sa normal ang education nato, maka face-to-face ta sa atong mga bata then maka focus ta sa ilahang learning needs unlike karon sa new normal. Murag di gyud kaayo accurate ang kuha sa mga bata ug mahulog na dili ilaha gyud bitawng achievement kay gitabangan man sila sa atong mga parents. [In the normal education setting, we are able to consult with our students face-to-face and focus on their learning needs, unlike in the new normal setting. And because they are now forced to become more dependent on their parents, they somehow cannot achieve and acquire accomplishments on their own],” the teacher said.

Amid this, the elementary school teachers will through the challenges, with parents actively lending their cooperation for the students’ sake. But while they manage to maintain resilience in carrying out their duties perfectly, teachers in La Fortuna continue to yearn for the day the pandemic will end, where life in the school campus would be normal once again.

“Sa karon unta, among gihope na sana ma end na gyud ning pandemic kay miss na namo magteach sa mga bata kay mao man gyud na ang amoang vocation [Right now, we hope for the pandemic to end. We miss teaching our kids, which is what our vocation is all about],” Teacher Jessebel stated.

The ‘Bisaya Gyud’ program is aired every Saturday on select radio stations across the country and streamed live on its official Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/bisayagyudph.

Apart from providing grassroots information on the pandemic, the program also explores Bisaya music and artists, and features Bisaya success stories. (DMNR/PIA-Caraga)

***

References:

* Philippine Information Agency. "Bukidnon schools receive aid from ‘Bisaya Gyud’ program." Philippine Information Agency. https://pia.gov.ph/news/articles/1064943 (accessed January 26, 2021 at 02:22PM UTC+08).

* Philippine Infornation Agency. "Bukidnon schools receive aid from ‘Bisaya Gyud’ program." Archive Today. https://archive.ph/?run=1&url=https://pia.gov.ph/news/articles/1064943 (archived).

#Philippines #News #Filipino #Pinoy #Tourism #Politics #Culture #Editorial #Environment #Society #History

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skvaderarts · 4 years

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Apocrypha Chapter Twenty Four: Discretion

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twenty Four: Discretion

Notes: I’ve just gotta say, I LOVE the comments that I got on the last chapter! Jokes on YOU, I’m crying too! I just use humor to mask my pain like Dante because it’s my only coping method! I’m worried about V, too and I wrote this shit! *Cry laughing*. Oh I’m so sorry, V. Please forgive me!

(-~-)

The coming storm built up momentum as it coated the forest below in a heavy layer of fog and rain. The air cooled down considerably as the minutes ticked by, night settling in earnest across the region and somehow making it even more difficult to see. As he neared the edge of the clearing to make a timely rondevu with the rest of the team, Griffon couldn’t help but shake his head at the insanity unfolding before him. If he strained the reaches of his subconscious, he could swear that he could still hear Nero and Vergil protesting V’s proposal, the plan seemingly unfathomable to them.

While the concept was sound, the actual execution of the plan depended upon variables that none of them could control. While Nero was a bit more flexible in terms of ideas presented to him, Vergil couldn’t claim anything of the sort. Minimizing dependence on outside factors was quite literally a way of life for him, and the idea that the lives of either of his sons could fall into that category practically made his blood boil. But V’s counter-argument had been difficult to turn down, especially with the prospect of being rid of the cult forever on the table. It all came down to Vergil’s willingness to tolerate a plan that he despised, but he agreed to do so against his better judgement. At the end of the day, this was the best overall method of thinning out the ranks and being free of this threat for the foreseeable future.

At least Vergil still got to cut down his enemies…

Griffon landed with a firm thud, shaking rain droplets off of the tree as he came to a stop before the rest of the group. Being the only one who was experienced with a weapon who they could afford to spare, Nico had volunteered to get everyone out of town and onto the train. She had her own undisclosed plans as to how she intended to accomplish this that she wasn’t disclosing, but that was her primary objective overall. The last two days had been a refreshing change of pace, but there was no way in hell they were staying in town with the potential things had for going catastrophically wrong. While the young mechanic doubted that the city would end up under a pile of ash and rubble like Redgrave City had, she still thought that it was a good idea to round up Patty, Kyrie, and the children and skip town. And it was an idea that the rest of the team wholeheartedly supported. Having bystanders in the line of fire was never a good policy, especially when those bystanders were family.

They were in unfamiliar territory, and fixing that as quickly as possible was a solid idea. As soon as Lady and Trish had returned from escorting Patty and Nico to the relative safety of the hotel, they would return to help back up the rest of the team. But for the moment, Griffon had the stage, and his audience was what remained of Sparda’s descendants. Well, at least those of them that were present.

“Oh boy, I don’t like anything about this plan.” The vibrant blue bird said as he shook his head, totally unsure as to how the situation he currently found himself in was going to pan out,” I got out of there just in time. That cult made off with V right after I left. I heard them say something about taking him back to their base. It has to be that cave, right?”

Dante shrugged, totally unsure as to what was going on. All he knew was that Nero had bolted back into the clearing at top speed with Vergil behind him and that his older twin looked less than pleased about whatever had happened back there. He’d stepped away for a moment to figure out where they had disappeared to, casually mentioning that he was going to figure out where they’d gone. But when Nero had returned with more than a few cuts and bruises, and V hadn’t returned at all, Dante knew that something was terribly wrong.

Vergil was clearly on edge, despite the fact that he was doing an excellent job of hiding it from everyone around him. Well, everyone but Dante. The younger of the two knew his older twin’s mannerisms far too well for that to sway him. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but agree with the wiley bird’s assessment of the situation they currently found themselves in. The youngest Son of Sparda had precisely no idea what had happened back there and the same amount of input in the plan, but he knew that he was a part of it and he’d take the opportunity to rip Vergil a new one about it after V was safe.

As much as he’d like to tell his frigid twin off for not explaining things to him, a part of him was actually happy that he knew he could depend on him to help him, even without asking him first. Even if Dante would have preferred that they discuss things beforehand, he was relieved to know that Vergil finally trusted him to some measurable degree. He’d been on the fence about it for a long time.

“So what’s the plan then?” Dante asked, looking over his twin pistols idly. He wasn’t so much checking their condition as he was trying to find something to do to occupy his wandering mind.” I mean, there is a plan, right?”

Griffon shrugged, flapping his wings. He was honestly just as lost as Dante was. “Your guess is as good as mine. V didn’t explain the fine details to me. He just sort of does things sometimes and I just go along with them. All he had to say was that “everything was going according to plan”. Cryptic little brat.”

Both Dante and Nero were willing to agree with that statement. Sometimes V really did do things that made them consider that fact that he might be slightly unhinged. Vergil folded his arms, clearly unamused with the entire situation. Did they really have time for pleasantries and small talk considering the situation?

“I assume he sent you to lead us back?” Vergil said as he stepped towards the edge of the woods. He didn’t strictly need the rest of them to come with him. He’d found the cave once, and he’d find it again. He had to.” That part of the forest is thick with dark magic and, as such, is incredibly difficult to navigate. Having an aerial view would be advantageous.”

Griffon nodded and took off towards the sky, double checking the trajectory they needed to follow. Vergil addressing him wasn’t something he was used to, and he got the distinct impression that Vergil was only doing so to further his own goals. Luckily for both of them, they were on the same wavelength in that regard. Everyone present wanted nothing more than to help facilitate V’s safe return and take down the cult that had seemingly developed an unhealthy fascination with him since his return from the underworld. If Griffon could help in some way, then they were glad for it. But how long could the blue bird stay away from his master?

“Well, let’s get out of here then. We can talk on the way, right?” Nero said as he followed after Vergil. “Wasting time here talking when we don’t know what they have planned isn’t going to get us anywhere or help V.”

Dante returned his guns to the holsters and nodded in conformation. Nero made a good point. Their limbs and mouths worked in tandem. Why not use them that way? V was skilled at adjusting to difficult situations, but if the cult had magic and demons at their disposal, who knew what they could be capable of. The longer they spoke, the more Dante got the feeling that he understood the premise of the plan. And the less he liked some of the finer details of it. Giving the cult exactly what they were looking for was a good way to gain access to their domain, but to what end? How did that benefit them? After all, there was no way that Vergil and Nero would've accidentally left him behind. As he entered the forest behind them, Dante took one last look at the peaceful clearing behind them. He had to agree with Griffon. This particular mission had “bad news” written all over it.

(-~-)

Panic worry and calm vigilance melded into one tense atmosphere as everyone packed their bags in a blind rush in anticipation for the trip home. While they were shaving off almost an entire day from their trip, no one had the time to worry themselves with such trivial concerts and they rolled their belongings into messy tubes and tossed them into their suitcases. They could do this again somewhere else at a later date, but they had to live that long first.

Lady and Trish watched the door to the room with a level of professionalism born of the kind of experience that came with a lifetime of fighting the denizens of the underworld. Under no circumstances were they going to let anything harm their companions, human or otherwise. While it was true that they didn’t tangle with humans very often and normally stuck to the more overtly demonic cases, they had been forced to take up arms against less demonic foes in the past. The only thing worse than fighting a crafty demon was fighting one that was backed by an intelligent human.

Hopefully this subsect of the cult wasn’t very smart.

“Look, Love, all you need to do is make it to the train station and head back to town. I’ll be there to back you up as soon as you arrive.” Magnolia said firmly from the other end of the phone. There was no questioning the honesty and seriousness from which her statement had been spawned.” I protect my own, and those cultists are going to rue the day they threatened you sweet girls. Stay safe until then!”

Nico nodded in agreement, not considering the fact that the older woman couldn’t see her from this end of the phone. She still had Magnolia’s number in her pocket from the card she’d given Nero before they had departed back to Fortuna with V. The young mechanic wasn’t entirely sure if she was stepping out of line by asking for help, and she didn’t care. Anything that kept the people she cares about safe was a win in her book, and she trusted Magnolia. All she could hope for was that they would arrive back in town safely and that the botanist didn’t have to reopen any existing injuries to save them. Nico didn’t know if she could live with any untimely deaths on her conscience, especially when it was someone who had shown her nothing but kindness. That, and Magnolia was basically Vergil’s only friend. Getting her killed was bound to have negative consequences.

“Don’t work about it, Magnolia. We're gonna leave here as soon as I get off the phone with ya. The train ride is only a couple of hours. Seeya then!” Nico said, trying her best to sound confident and sure of herself. She wasn’t lying, but she did have her reservations. She could practically feel Magnolia’s concerned smile through the phone as she wished her a safe trip and hung up, leaving Nico holding the receiver with nothing but the sound of the dial tone to keep her company. All she could do now was hope for the best and do what she could to help everyone get out of there safe. The gunsmith sighed and turned to the rest of the group, pleased to find that they were all packed and ready to head out. All she could do now was hope that the cultists didn’t know who they were.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Trish asked, giving the room a once over. Lady unfolded her arms and reached down to grab her luggage bag. She shared a similar sentiment. The trip had been fun, but she was ready to get the hell out of there and back to a more familiar place. At least she would have an advantage to use against her opponents back in Dante’s stomping grounds.

Everyone nodded or vocalized in agreement, trying their best to hide their uncertainty. The children were too little to comprehend the danger they were in, and to a certain degree, they were glad for that. The last thing anyone wanted was for the children to have another thing to keep them up at night.

“Yea, were good. Let’s get outta here! The train is gonna be here in like twenty minutes!” Nico said as she helped grab the bags and herd the children towards the door. Someone was going to have to pick Carlo up to keep him from lagging behind or wandering off in the commotion. She just hoped it would be someone else. She didn’t have a hand to spare.

“Okay then! You head down towards the lobby. Trish will lead the way and I’ll cover your backs. Let’s get out of here before they find us.” Lady stood out of the way and allowed Trish to leave the room, followed closely by Kyrie, Patty, Nico, and the children. Moving with a group this large was going to be a challenge.” Paying repair fees to the hotel is not going to be the thing that finally sends me into bankruptcy. Let’s get out of here in one piece, okay?”

As soon as the room was empty, Lady closed the door behind them and bolted after the rest of the group. The only straightforward path in the entire place was the route down to the lobby. If they could make it down there and out of the building, all they had to do was go a handful of blocks up the street. Then they were home free. And she was going to make sure they got there in one piece. She’d never be able to face Nero again if something happened to Kyrie or the kids, and Dante would literally go to hell and back for Patty. She couldn’t let her family down.

(-~-)

“Why are there always so many people willing to jump at the opportunity to join some sort of sinister death cult?!” Nero said as he kicked one of the cultists in the chest, knocking them off the side of the cliff they were facing towards. They wouldn’t need to worry about that guy anymore. “Like, where do all these idiots keep coming from?! Is there a super villain lackey shop or something?!”

“Because it is the nature of humans to seek power beyond their current threshold, and they latch onto those that promise to deliver that to them.” Vergil said as he came to a stop, sheathing Yamato. Half a dozen cultists that he had taken off guard toppled over in a very upsetting way, clearly no longer a factor in the current battle. “All one must do to gain the trust of another is promise them something they do not currently possess that they seek to acquire, and many will see that as enough justification to commit unspeakable atrocities.”

Nero raised an eyebrow, giving Vergil a sideways look before turning to face Dante. “Care to translate, Dante? Your brother is speaking another language again!”

The youngest Son of Sparda had just finished off his opponent’s summon and was pursuing them. The hooded man was spouting some indecipherable nonsense about something he didn’t care to understand and throwing everything between them at the red coat wearing devil hunter in an attempt to slow his approach. In a way, Dante pitied them. They seemed to be clearly out of their minds, the presence of so much demonic power and the toll of summoning so many demons with so little training had clearly robbed them of their humanity and their sentience. All that was left of them were the shells of what had once been people. But now they were twisted beyond recognition. Despite the fact that they were human, they were more akin to a demon than any pure blooded human should be. He’s seen powerful pure blood demons that could easily pass as more human than these poor husks pretending to be living beings. No. They were like worker ants, more akin to the Empusa than anything from the human world that wasn’t an insect ought to be. And he needed to find out who the leader of the hive was and give them a heavy dose of insect repellent.

Whoever was in charge of this cult needed to be stopped before any more lives were ruined.

“You think I know? I wasn’t really listening! Nothing Vergils says makes sense to me.” Dante said as he closed in on the cultist and finished him off quickly. No need to drag things out. His life had clearly been filled with enough suffering. No need to rub salt in his wounds.” Something about how it’s easy to deceive despirate people into doing stupid things for you, if I was going to make an educated guess. Why don’t you ask him?”

Vergil finished off the last of the demons, grabbing one of the cultists around the collar and slamming him into a nearby tree with enough force to shatter both him and the sturdy oak in two. They groaned and shook their head, clearly dazed.

“You're going to tell me where the rest of your ilk took him, or things will not end well for you.” Vergil said sternly, making eye contact with the young man in the hood.” My companions are patent. I am much less so. Do not test me.”

The younger man stared at him, clearly intimidated. “ B-but Agreus will kill me if he finds out I said anything! I can’t!”

”Yes, I’m quite sure he will. That is not my problem. You should’ve put more care into who you trusted in the first place.” Vergil gave him a sideways glance, allowing a hint of his demonic power to manifest in the form of his eyes flashing an eerie red for a moment.” But I am here now, and while he might kill you, I assure you that if any harm should come to my son, you will wish that was all I did. There are worse fates. Trust me.”

A visible look of horrified shock crossed the cultist as his blood ran ice cold. It was evident to anyone that could see him that he took Vergil’s threat to heart. With a sigh, he raised a shaky hand and pointed in the direction of the cave, barely hiding his worry. In that moment, he was more afraid of Vergil than he had been of anything in his entire short life. Not only was he sure that the Darkslayer could kill him, he knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

“Follow that p-path towards the interior of the cave. The part you can see here is only the mouth of a greater cavern that stretches several miles under the forest. At the end of the left fork is the cave you're looking for. You can’t miss it! They took him that way, I swear! Something about Master Agreus wanting to understand “what the dark lord saw in him”. I don’t think they plan to kill him, though. No. Master Agreus might be our leader, but he answers to a much higher power. A terrifying power. And that power is what is after that kid. We just do what they tell us to. I’m sorry, I didn’t know they would do something like this. I didn’t sign up to kidnap people! None of us did.”

Vergil yanked the younger man away from the tree and forced him in the direction of the woods before releasing him with a forceful shove. The younger man glanced at him for a moment, wrapped in confusion as the Darkslayer allowed Yamato’s blade to peak out of its scabbard. “Leave before I come to my senses.”

“Your… not going to kill me?” The older teen asked, clearly shocked by his decision. If he had been in Vergil’s place, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done to the man who had helped kidnap his child.” What if I’m lying.”

“Then you're a fool and you should spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder for me. Now go before I bathe my blade in your blood and leave your corpse here for the wolves.” Vergil said, far beyond the limit of his patience. Was this foolish boy actually going to stand there and look a gift horse in the mouth? Humans were truly something else…

“T-thank you! I hope you find him.” The young man said as he took off running in the direction of the forest. Vergil doubted his ability to navigate in the vast darkness, but he’d made his way out there so there was no way of knowing. Regardless, he was no longer the eldest Son of Sparda’s problem. As the young man disappeared into the darkness, Vergil turned in the direction of the cave and his two companions, both of which seemed genuinely surprised at his decision. Vergil half groaned and passed them, heading into the cave. Dante and Nero shared a glance at one another before following him.

“So Vergil, why didn’t you…” Dante started, unsure of how to approach the topic in a way that wouldn’t reignite his twin’s barely contained blood lust. It seemed that his older brother possessed more restraint than he gave him credit for.

Vergil stopped for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at Nero. While his response was a result of Dante’s inquiry, his response was meant more for his youngest son than his twin brother. “... I don’t kill children, Dante. I see no need to elaborate further.”

With that, Vergil continued towards their objective. It had been entirely too long since they had heard from Griffon, and Vergil was admittedly concerned for what that might mean for his oldest child. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and as such, Vergil loathed the fact that he had agreed to go along with this foolish plan. But he felt the need to allow Nero and V to prove that they were as capable as he believed them to be. After all, they were descendants of Sparda and they had worked together to bring him down in Redgrave City. Not just anyone was capable of doing something like that.

He just hoped they would all survive long enough to regret what they had done.

(-~-)

Oh, the last two three chapters have been a blast to write! This is the kind of melodramatic shit I live for! Thank you so much for reading this chapter and have an awesome day! I’m thrilled that you’ve all stuck around this long. Thanks for all the love!

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