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Dreams Will Be Made Of These	By : Britt_601 Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3810 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters. Blah, blah, blah-no money is made off of this either.

Chapter List
- 5
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Chapter 6: And Action, No Wait, Cut! Pt. 1

Nero's eyes gazed upon the house bedecked in luxurious splendor. The homes of Fortuna graced the city with a quiet and run-down antique elegance, but paled to the castles and main offices of the district in their design. Yet even Fortuna's buildings seemed drab next to this mansion.

A stone wall and gate enclosed the three-story manor with manicured shrubs and a stunning backdrop overlooking the vast forest. Cream-coated marble walls embellished the columns like shimmering pearls in the sun. Maple trees danced to their own vibe, with the wind providing soft music to sway in the breeze. The upper two stories had decorated balconies with lavish furniture inspecting the green scenery. Hexagonal cobblestone adorned with the blue clouds created a walkway leading to the entrance.

Nero ogled through the explicably designed stone gates, slightly jarred from the demons barging in. His thoughts roved to why so many of them congregated at such a fancy place. Is there a portal or Hell Gate sitting around here? Did a high-ranking devil summon them to do their evil will? Besides all that, Nero enjoyed the house's view.

To Dante it was just a big-ass house.

A big-ass house with probably three people living in it, not including the maids. Chances are the sole child received everything from mommy and daddy dearest.

Well, wasn't that calling the kettle black? Thinking back to his youth, he recalled living in a home as exquisite and separated as the one set before him. Many of the rooms remained closed or off-limits to him and his brother. He remembered his mother saying how easy it could be for them to get lost, yet their backyard stood twice as large as their home.

Playing, and often fighting, with Vergil filled his childhood days with bitter enjoyment. That is if Vergil sustained the mood to accompany him, the little prude. Even then, Vergil would grow bored and lose interest of whatever activity they engrossed themselves the longer it waged on.

Coming out of his brief trance, Nero had disappeared from by his side, creeping in light steps towards the oblivious rogues trolling the premises. Running into battle headfirst, and not thinking about the consequences until later, suited Dante to the better because he operated in that style.

Planning involved strategy and timing and ideas. Who had the time to do that shit when the target prepared its next move to attack or escape? Nevertheless, Nero is a virgin to two out of three of the creatures, therefore he still should heed caution.

Hell Wraths are slow-witted, overgrown ticking bombs too feeble-minded to differentiate between foe and friend. If he played his cards right, being the terrible gambler he ruled at, he could use the Wraths' bombs to clear clusters of demons, minimizing the effort on his part.

Soul Eaters are vicious and annoying little fuckers, like the bothersome fly that buzzed by your ear, waiting to use it as a rest stop.

Cutlasses are just… fuck them and their entire existence.

"I can't believe we're getting paid six grand to dispatch some idiots," Nero thought, the urge to flee into battle twitched his anxious nerves to shed some blood. Cutlasses are a cinch to handle, and from the appearance of these new brutes they didn't look so threatening.

Salmon-tinted lips stretched into a wide smirk, fingers tightening on Red Queen's handle. Screw that damn seafood, Nero wanted to see what all this mist mess abided by; what they really looked like under that blue smoke. Just as his foot propelled him forward, disregarding the pep talk Dante gave him earlier, his momentum pulled backwards to face a serious-looking half-demon.

"What the hell are you―?"

"Dammit, what did I just tell you?" Dante growled in a low timber. "You take care of the fish in the back, and then we can regroup when you're done!"

Nero blinked, incensed over Dante undergoing a patronizing tone, like he was in the wrong for not listening to him. And it sounded as if Dante forgot he didn't needed no one's help to begin with. "Why not the other way around?" Nero retorted, defiant eyes blazing into Dante's icy ones. "Let me deal with these bozos-"

"It'll be better if you listen to me or else we'll―"

"Do you think I'm that much of a kid? That I can't handle shit on my own or did you forget what I'm capable of?" The awkwardness from earlier surged within him but he concealed the feeling with anger. Dante didn't need to order him about like a child. Nero can take care of himself, and he didn't need to have any forceful restrictions on his free will. Besides he had a father, somehow and somewhere, to tell him what to do, but the bastard wasn't here now, was he?

"Yeah, you can handle shit on your own kid, but it's a lot less stressful―"

"Then let me do what I gotta do!" Nero revved up Red Queen once, indirectly telling the chieftain to shut up and let him do his job. "And stop thinking you know what's best all the damn time, old man."

Dante gazed at Nero's hard-headed ass before snapping his attention to the Hellions. They stopped their ministrations to enjoy the front row seat to the hunters' pointless bickering, well Nero's anyway.

Without saying another word Nero dashed towards the air spiders, slicing Red Queen through the thick blue smoke only to watch it float away. Dante gave a shake of his head in disbelief, seeing the surefire way for a Soul Eater to snag him.

Long legs strolled in a calm gait over to a tree, leaning against the trunk a yard away from the scene of action. A neutral profile watched on in silence, crossing his arms while condemning his partner's naivety. He knew of the punk's capabilities among any ogre. The fledgling took on Berial, that psychotic plant lady and those rancid ice frogs with the hot naked chicks as fishing lures, with no help in Fortuna. The kid even had the balls to drop kick him in the face the first time they un-officially met.

Did he get the job done with the other devils though? Not exactly. If Nero knew any better, he would've finished off the devils thoroughly instead of letting them recuperate inside of the Hell Gate. It's like he had to go after the brat and clean up behind his ass.

He remembered his fair share of mistakes for the damned, but he didn't waste knowledge to eliminate those errors. There are certain demons to taunt and there were those who kicked your ass. Soul Eaters, the little buggers, blended the two concepts. A few shots killed them quick, but they became a task if they congregate into a large group.

So fuck it. Let the punk have his way and see if he can handle both sets of creatures on his own. He told Nero to fight those in the back for he had the proper killing equipment. Dante suggested his plan was the preferred course of action since he is the seasoned pro. He didn't know what was best for the brat, but the boy still had a lot to learn, not just about hunting demons but life in general.

To answer his question from earlier, yes Nero is a kid; a well-trained, hormonal kid with a small amount of bewitched blood running through his veins. The youngster needed to practice caution in his decisions. If the teen wanted to discover shit by himself, then so be it. Dante would point, or glare, him into the right direction... if the youth listened or even took his advice.

As the popular saying goes: a hard head makes a soft ass. Speaking of which…

Maybe Dante should crank up his horny exploits more often. While the younger fledgling lived with him, his one-night trysts have lessened, out of respect for his partner. Ever since then, strange dreams about the mouthy little shit in sexual vices polluted his brain.

Men gregariously hit on Dante when they couldn't get enough of his charming looks. He would go along with it if he wanted to skip paying for something or to amuse himself but it was all in good fun; he never took it seriously. Plus, Nero's mentioning of his inner side talking over him meant the kid needed to get laid too. Perhaps the punk should visit that Karen, Kyla… whatever her name is and smooch her down.

Powder-blue eyes watched the fledgling fire a set of bullets into one of the Wraths. He ventured a little too close when the Hell-spawn exploded, sending Nero tumbling backwards. His clawed fingers dug into the ground to stop his momentum, gritting his teeth in surprised anger. Two of the Soul Eaters emerged from the ash surrounding the now-blown-to-bits demon, attempting to zero in on their weakened prey. Nero's ears rung in a piercing echo, failing to hear the Soul Eater hissing behind him.

Jean-clad legs stilled. Something odd bubbled within his core, like a hand crept inside his body and took something out of him like a hole in a pipe. He currently stood in the blue mist but the elder said they grabbed you before they started to feed off you, or did he say they paralyzed you before they began their depletion methods?

The leggy monster screeched a startling cry as it dove in to wrap Nero in its long embrace. Before the creature ensnared its meal and sucked his life away, Dante withdrew Ivory and fired a few shots into the target, barely killing it before it got to the punk.

Nero never heard the slugs ring past him, his hearing taking a little too long to recover from the blast. Dante decided to relieve the two air spiders in front of the teen too since he hasn't regained his ground.

Criss-crossing his prized babies outstretched in front of him, he charged up the twin pistols for a moment before releasing a barrage of bullets into the tentacle-like freaks. They dissipated on the spot, leaving a very surprised yet glowering Nero in its wake.

"Well, looks like we split em' up anyway." He holstered both guns with a swift flick of the wrist." "I handled my share, kid."

Three more Soul Eaters and Wraths croaked about. Something told him to wait until the youngster finished the other creatures, but those Cutlasses are a matter all their own. "Brat should've taken care of those bastards in the back first," Dante sneered, dreading to face those irksome assholes.

The veteran ventured to the side of the house where a walkway led to the commotion ensuing behind the manor. To his surprise, the backyard held no fencing of the sort to determine what property belonged to the mansion and to the forest. Anything could have jostled up into the area and made its claim here.

Peeking around the wall before the walkway led him out into the open, Dante saw the group of man-bred fish circling a large gray-toned statuette. Ragged cloth hung in thin drapes over skeletal forms, wielding ominous scythes aimed towards the figure of a woman. A red substance poured over the figures pooling in the fountain underneath.

In the bosom of the woman a vibrant, gold knife protruded from her chest, ornamented with a glittering black gem. Dante lifted his nose in the air, inhaling a mixture of copper and rusted stone, senses going into overdrive for something seemed amiss here. He hoped the female in the statue wasn't the caller.

“That's an odd piece of landscaping. Hope there aren't kids playing around that.”

He turned around and speed walked to where Nero engaged in combat. The youth and his party relocated towards the tree the elder leaned on before Nero's battle went at hand, leaving the entrance to the door all clear.

Nero hacked at the blue vapors, wondering why in the hell its true form hadn't showed. Didn't Dante say they had legs or arms? A bubbled sensation spiked in his core again before rolling away. The inside of a tentacle flashed across his vision when he faced away from the foe; the limb dispersed back into the blue smoke.

Those slow-moving bomb things dumbly followed Nero wherever he moved, groaning to the world of its suffering burden. He planned on using them soon, he just needed to find the correct timing to do so.

As a muffled screech alerted him, Nero somersaulted out of the way from being captured in the fiend's tentacles. In his brief glimpse he saw the monster held the qualities of an octopus-like creature before turning into mist, blue in color with green, white and pink lines covering its body. So they resembled creepy open-legged spiders floating in the air?

"Don't wanna face me head on, huh?" Nero taunted, sneering in jest as the demons acted in cowardice... Hey wait a minute, that was the trick. The smog only showed its true form when he faced in the opposite direction, leaving them on the offensive with his back turned.

"So," the youth ignored their approaching strides. "You like taking it from the back, I see."

Dante knocked multiple times on the front door to see if the woman would greet him. A full minute went by before he turned a suspiciously unlocked door and walked into a spacious living room, whistling at the spectacle.

Mossy-hued paint adorned every wall inside the room. Cream-colored pillows sat lazily on the seats of gray-green couches. A red oak table rested between the couch and so did a cream La-Z-Boy armchair, with Granny Smith scented candles placed on each corner of the miniature stand. Wild plants had manifested themselves in the corners of the living room, completing the therapeutic vibe of the space. A nice comfy and cozy place to take a nap indeed.

Eyes swept over the expansive room, making sure nothing appeared amiss before taking a right down the hall. A few steps later and Dante found his way to the kitchen―only to find more rich décor. A plum-toned dinette set and open glass, wood-refined cabinets balanced out the emerald walls. But what impressed Dante the most, other than the cleanliness of the kitchenette, stood the size of the refrigerator.

Double doors. Extra bin on the bottom. Ice maker. Expansive on the outside. Man, he would kill to own this. His cooler back home hadn't thoroughly kept his beer nice and cold. Or maybe the kid kept the fridge open to look for something to eat when there wasn't anything in there. Yeah, his old fridge ran with less efficiency. He'd been meaning to buy a new one, but financial issues hindered him when it came to repairs.

Might as well see what owning one as grand as this felt like. He slid a hand on the silver handle and opened the large door to grimace at the collection inside. Lots of yogurt cartons, bins of varying fruits and vegetables, milkshakes, containers full of left over dinners, and low-fat, low-calorie… junk populated the shelves.

Without doubt a chick's house.

The half-demon reached forward and pulled out a rectangular foil pan to place it on the counter.

He didn't know what came over him but he had the sudden urge to eat. Dante couldn't explain this weird feeling in his gut about the woman being here somewhere. How did she know of their occupation and how did she obtain the office's number? There was a reason he had a password to take on jobs, he hated going on wild goose chases.

The chieftain heard a bomb explode outside before placing his hand on the aluminum cover, soon followed by a series of grunts and snarls. It appeared the brat didn't learn his lesson about Hell Wraths: keep your distance or you'll spend some time stopping your tumbles.

"Hope the kid ain't dead," he mumbled, more worried about the food lying beneath the silver wrapping. He pulled back the covering, anticipation marring his features before it turned into a deep, driven scowl, mortified to discover what he found in the foil pan.

Whoever mustered the nerve… no, the audacity to defile his favorite food in such an offending way should be shot.

Pizza contained enough elements from the food pyramid to remain healthy. The crust came from the grains-bread group. The pepperoni is from the meat class and the cheese from the dairy. Three out of five ingredients are already on the pizza. Four if you count those disgusting olives from the vegetable category.

Dante lifted the pan to his nose to inhale the peculiar object in front of him, only to snort out the odor in disgust. In place of the dough existed this flat looking piece of grilled bread. In bereft of tomato sauce, the "fake" had mashed up dark chunks of what appeared and smelled like olives.

"Olives should be extinct," the halfling snarled, forgetting he didn't live here.

Spaced out shavings of mozzarella, or maybe Parmesan, acted as the cheese. Dante picked up a single shaving and sampled it, tingling his taste buds to awaken from their drowsy slumber. Parmesan it was then. To make Dante's face scrunch up, the topping on the phony had leaves.

Who puts shit like that on a pizza?

Did someone pluck them off a fresh tree sprouting into its first season of life? Or perhaps it came from one of those houseplants people use for decoration to gussy up their dinner. Whatever the case, the veteran didn't want to put the food back into the refrigerator. He wanted to acquaint the impostor to the trashcan resting a few feet from him; it deemed a more suitable site for the 'pizza.'

"Who has the nerve to even call this shit food?" Dante muttered with a hard scoff, lips thinning over the lack of his favorite pie in the fridge.

Foods saying low-fat this or low-calorie that combed through his sight, rummaging through the fridge. His hand opened a fruit bin, finding a crate full of fresh, plump strawberries bursting with a bold red color.

"So this creepy stash of food redeemed itself, minimally."

Dante pulled out the fresh crate, popping off the lid with an expert flick of his thumb. Pale blue orbs roved over the juicy pieces, looking for the right one to kick-start his starved taste buds into high gear. He chose a medium-large red fruit and chewed the sweet bliss before closing his eyes, thankful he could get something on his stomach and for it to be one of his favorite foods.

He picked up the carton, spitting out the green stem while walking to the kitchen window. This house had a certain, sinister vibe hanging overhead like invisible smog. He couldn't see the physical source yet, but something wicked clung to the atmosphere, further spurred by the statuette outside.

Statues depicting such a scene usually displayed themselves in museums revered for the public. However, in his line of work, it conveyed to a great evil lurking nearby, sometimes with a bigger, tougher devil ready to fight after its minions have failed to cause the proper destruction.

He took another plump fruit from the carton and took a bite out of the savory filling. His suspicions only increased as the goblins circled the statue in an endless stride, not seeming to care or notice the throttling action in front of the house.

The gears in Dante's skull churned out queries about this damned fountain, thinking the sculpture could be the reason so many ghouls were out and about in abundance.

Jobs piled up since this ordeal started about two months ago. The money rolled in nicely until Lady came and sucked him dry like a drained well.

Two, the "man-made" monsters should be wiped out of existence after the Fortuna scandal. The Fortuna demons were bio-genetically engineered to serve as Agnus' lap dogs to hype up the citizens about their "Savior”; have the artificial Hellions run around scaring people shitless into believing the Savior would save them.

Talk about a twisted sales pitch.

How long did Agnus experiment with these creatures and where did he get the ingredients to create them, other than by using Yamato's essence? Sure, most devils are cruel and uncaring in their own manner, but to be captured and tormented to mold into one's creation is undeserved; even if most deserved the harsh treatment.

The most malicious of the damned can seem friendly compared to the acts humans engage in.

"Vergil, you ignorant dumbass," thought Dante in bitter remembrance, wishing his stoic twin could see what mere humans did with his sword and what they tried to achieve. His brother would downright cry at the gesture of it.

With an audible sigh, he strolled to the fridge to put away the strawberries. After eating the majority of them and spitting out the green stems, he placed the crate back into the refrigerator, leaving only four for the eating. Personally, he wanted to thank her for the cash and the food, but he needed to find the girl... if she lived.

"Uh, excuse me, miss?" Dante bellowed, making sure his voice reverberated against the walls in the house.

He went back towards the living room to see if anyone appeared. A thought suddenly struck him, remembering the unlocked front door. Anyone who called the demon busters had their doors locked and waited to pay the hunters after the things were dead and gone. So did she hide somewhere and he needed to search for her?

A thump harked somewhere in the distance towards the opposite end of the hallway. Making his trek down the hall, Dante picked up faint aromas of lilac and cigarettes; never a pleasant combination as the chick would look older than she appeared. He made his way into the foyer, smelling the two scents growing stronger the closer he approached. His head turned to pause on an odd door in the middle of the corridor, backing up a few steps to scrutinize his finding.

“That's the last time I let that punkass answer the phone, I just knew something weird was up.”

An obsidian door etched in white accursed symbols confirmed his suspicions. A gloved hand reached out to the door, sensing a vibrating hum shooting up his arm. Something in the back of his mind told him to go and check on Nero, but the twerp bitched about his independence, his curiosity egging him on.

Ivory twirled in his right hand before bursting into the room, scanning the space for the noise's source. The silver gun aimed at a clear table placed near a set of curtain-less sliding doors. Black walls and matching carpet complemented the glass bookcase, holding an expansive collection of books in demonic writing. Light poured in from the window pane, showing the sun starting to sink away from the world's view.

Dante ran his fingers across the selective variety of references, thinking of re-stocking some of the enchanted reading material himself. With the new additions of monsters sprouting as of late, along with those bewitched curses, he felt the necessity to bring his current library up to date. Didn't know when he'd examine through the collection, but he needed to have them on deck.

A sudden pressure of a hexed aura infiltrated the room, bringing the hybrid out of his stupor. His eyes trailed to the computer table and saw a small briefcase resting on the edge of it. He ventured closer, noticing the damned essence expanding. Dante eyed the entire room before standing in front of the casing, positioning Ivory at the rectangular box to ready his attack should anything jump out at him.

The red slayer inhaled before unlocking both sets of locks with the flick of his thumb, swiftly opening the briefcase… to find the six grand he was "contracted" for. A big, smug grin split the chieftain's face in half. He would travel home satisfied today. Except he garnered this nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach, seeing these events run parallel to a coincidence.

A "normal" house does not have a door with accursed spells written on them, and it certainly doesn't have a statue of that caliber resting in its backyard. Where is that woman?

“Great,” he snorted, looking around the room once more. “If I touch something is it going to trigger a trap?” A small chuckle rumbled in his throat, wondering if this woman called him out here to kill him.

Testing that idea, Dante picked up a $100 bill and lifted it to his nose, taking in its leather-like scent. Nothing happened. His tickled mood soured over by the image of a glowering brunette with a cannon strapped to her back.

He sighed, having his thoughts interrupted by her greedy purposes. He'll put away $500 for Lady to keep her off his back. Hey, he'll be damned if she came and took his whole paycheck for her own vices.

Holding his hand over the case he sensed no lurking danger, producing a 'hmm' sound. It's likely impossible for money to be evil... in the currency sense. The aura still transpired there, but why did the hexed ambiance emanate from the briefcase?

Maybe he mistook his senses for the Cutlasses scurrying about outside, or perhaps it came from the door he left open.

Three minutes went by with the half-hell making a mental to-do list for when he went home. He owed it to himself to catch a break, up to his neck in ogre-slaying non-stop. Fortunately, he knew just the person to take over his duties until he nourished himself to full capacity.

As the red one planned out his day for tomorrow he omitted caution as a small, black legless animal slithered out between two rows of dollar bills. His distraction with the current pay lingering underneath his nose neglected to see the black animal coil into a tight spring and lunge forward, aiming at the half-demon's throat with sharp pincers.

A/N: I am super giddy about the whole pizza/food group thingy. Since Dante doesn't seem like the type to like healthy food (much), I put in his definition of the term "healthy." And yes, that pizza thingy is called an Olive and Arugula Flatbread Pizza Salad. When I first saw that, I was like WTF? The word "pizza" shouldn't even be in there! And…I doubt if anyone could just walk in someone's house and start eating food that isn't even theirs! Oh the stuff Dante can get away with.
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Dreams Will Be Made Of These