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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 9: And Action, No Wait, Cut! Pt. 4

Those who contracted their heightened gifts through unjustified methods lived in blissful ignorance. He lost count of the people he overturned for their quest of power through unrighteous gains.

Dante had to remind himself how thin a line separated mortals and devils. Mortals lust after dominance, achieving their means by becoming a concubine of some devil to obtain a piece of that sovereignty. They fixated on the might they would receive; never the consequences they endured to inherit those privileges.

Hellions should have known better than to fiddle with humans. After all the years of the veteran slaying down the ones to leave in remembrance, they couldn't take the hint?

Contracting man to do their bidding ended in disaster; usually with Dante having to kill their 'boss', leaving the humans adrift with their position of newfound supremacy. Those converted souls gained unpaid employment when Dante wanted intel from them, so they posed little trouble.

Many devils figure by throwing a little money at humans will align the mortals to the dark side, turning against their own kind for selfish greed. Acting on this revelation summoned Dante to embrace his baser instincts so heartily, as he planned on executing in a moment.

She squatted low, legs strong and bent to the ground, her tail swishing behind her. The coiled muscles released their hold, spinning around to hurl towards the slayer. Dante called forth a magical barrier, royally blocking the attack, watching Eusimalkia jerk from the sudden stoppage. Her human hand thrust forth to stab at the bastard, but he vanished in front of her hazel eyes.

Auburn-red locks hurled around her face, searching for him just as the hybrid appeared in front of her. He unsheathed Rebellion, spinning the sword around like a vertical windmill into her midsection.

The heavy blade propelled her upwards from the forceful strength of the sword, the hunter staying close upon her. In her uproot to the sky, bales of crimson coated his eyes, her sight soon replaced by rapid blurs of metallic gray. Four, sharp aerial swipes tore at the woman's midsection, finishing the stylistic move by slamming Rebellion on top of her head.

The she-scorpion hissed in pain upon descending to the earth, losing her grip on the knife. A keen sound of whipping air directed her attention to the ground, seeing the half-breed in a slight crouch, his broadsword gripped tightly by both hands. He appeared to take a form of a batter...

Dante channeled his infernal energy into his sword, waiting in timid patience to turn that tramp into a home-run hit.

Unfortunately, his target fled his sight, hard mounds of rocks landed upon his shoulder to dig their way underneath his red trench. The she-scorpion's litter had gathered from the house, distracting him from mauling the bitch apart to bits and pieces.

The little grunts hopped and climbed over him, intent to cover for their queen. His forefinger ebbed in small sprouts of pain, having to curl his hand around the creatures to throw them off. Dante grunted, rational thinking coming back to his mind to get that damn thing out of his trigger finger.

Eusimalkia raised herself on weary legs from the brief, but vicious onslaught. She contained her happiness for her children kept the hunter busy, formulating a plan to kill him. Though she watched him, seeing how his anger rose to crush her brood in his hands.

Could it be that a poisonous shard embedded itself in the skin of the half-inbreed? She was so pre-occupied in trying to kill him she didn't think to test that. The she-scorpion smiled in wicked mirth, now presenting the time for the half-bastard to see her powers.

She summoned energy deep within her core, lifting her human hand in a graceful manner to beckon the halfling to her.

A tingling sensation originated in the hunter's stabbed finger, spreading throughout his arm and through his physique. His movements desisted, feeling heavily strapped down by invisible shackles. He stood up straight with his arms slightly to his side, lifted off the ground as he came closer to her. The red around the rim of his irises ceased to return to its natural color.

A honeyed glow kissed her complexion in part to the golden rays of the late afternoon sky, to the upper portion of her body anyway. Her eyes beheld a sinister profile, the shine from the sun casting this eerie look to her.

Sad really, it was such a shame that sexy babes carried homicidal tendencies. His air-journey halted in front of her, her exposed bosoms pushed up seductively against Dante's rock hard chest.

"Why do you defend those who are defenseless and weak? Why not take the power you use to protect others and use it to rule with an iron fist?"

"You have a lot to learn about me woman," Dante said, voice clipped and teeth gritted to emphasize his point. "I wouldn't need to protect humans if bastards like you didn't fuck with them in the first place."

The she-devil smiled, taking in his handsome profile and stunning demonic eyes. She leaned towards him to run her lips over to his ear. "Imagine the power you would have if you embraced everything you are-"

"I embrace everything I am, every damn day. Otherwise, I couldn't vanquish assholes like you for a living."

A thin tongue licked the outer shell of his ear, his body stiffening while she laughed at his vulnerability. Without warning, she slapped him across the jaw with her pincer, a forceful whiplash gained from the strength of it.

The Hell-cat used her human hand to make the bastard face her, grabbing his chin. Elongated canines graced his mouth with a bloodied bottom lip, sealing from the place of impact. Such a shame, and a rarity in itself, to have such a beautiful man forsake his own kind to protect humans. Was Hell really so bad that he wanted to stay on the surface world, not being able to live freely, living under human codes and ethics?

"Aw, you would fit the perfect package of Hell's King; all powerful. Strong. Devoted to destruction to whoever causes it. Do you want to turn that down just to side with mortals?" she pointed where the fountain once stood.

Little did she know it was that same quest for power that befell his beloved brother. Did she think he would follow in the same path? Those same monsters murdered his mother in cold blood because they had a chip on their shoulder for what his father did.

"I'm not siding with anyone. I take great pleasure in disturbing those who disturb the peace, human or not."

"Straddling the fence is no way to live." Eusimalkia drew her lips over the hybrid's jaw line, tracing the angular shape until her lips ghosted over his. Slim fingers slid through soft white locks, resting her arm on his shoulder, her finger beckoning to the knife. A throaty squeal bubbled in her throat when the half-breed bit down onto her juicy labiums, fangs piercing into her flesh, blood trickling down both chins. She nearly tore her lips from his hold.

Infuriated by his insolence, the knife flew into her hand, readying to stab him. In an unforeseen alert, a hard impact hit her head from behind, the uncontrolled reflex made her hand wave, sending Dante flying somewhere into the house.

The young hellion mustered what feeble strength he had and rolled from the Fault. His stomach cramped with the sudden movement, sitting on his haunches to clutch his side in strain. Nero looked around the field, seeing if any more monsters needed killing before he regrouped with the veteran.

Fortunately, the only underworld-bred assholes left were those gorging faces. His eyes ceased their roaming when he recognized the hybrid in a wide-legged stance, as if frozen... or doing one of his crazy combat moves, yet his initial assumption proved correct. “That's some kind of power she has.”

The veteran floated towards her in that strange position. Clearly, her powers extended beyond punching and clawing her way to get by. The inner devil belonging to Nero growled in irritation, viewing the she-fiend pushing her ample breasts against Dante's chest. Nero would've laughed at the scene; women must've had a natural attraction to the red hunter.

On older missions he tagged along, Nero witnessed women fake their 'falls' and 'faints' into the dope's arms. Some pretended to faint (for whatever reason they did it) just to be carried in his biceps. A few gratefully hugged the man in a snug hold, not wanting to let go, in which he had to swoop in and save the hybrid from their clutches.

How hard is it for Dante to say no to females? Then again, he guessed the elder did it to gain a few bucks alongside the job's payment. Still, Nero couldn't fathom why he felt better after he got the veteran away from them. Like a tight weight settled in his gut when they clung to him.

Jean-clad legs pumped in fury to reach Dante. He glanced over his shoulder while he jogged, seeing multiple blue faces appear right after his foot touched the earth. Where in the hell did those things come from in the first place, and why are they so intent on devouring him instead of Dante? Upon his recollection, he didn't kill any psychotic plant lady.

While lost in his thoughts, he caught sight of the raving she-bitch face to face with the crimson hunter, lips pressing seconds away from Dante's plush ones.

Hell will boil over if she kisses him.

The youngster ignored his talkative inside, producing a better reason to save him―she might have had a poisonous kiss and the hybrid would be no good to him if he was unconscious or dead. Nevertheless, he did not miss the unrecognizable surge dispersing throughout his body when Dante took the initiative and bit the devil on her peckers.

Nero's first reaction registered a love bite, seeing how he loved to flirt with practically any attractive woman he came into contact with. But the heated fire in his eyes told a different story, along with the impressive amount of blood dripping down both of their chins. Nero caught the brief look in the chieftain's crimson-hued eyes; a silent exchange shared between the two when out of each other's immediate reach.

He increased his foothold, seeing a silver glint sparkle in the sun's rays, watching her raise a knife at the same time he gathered the forward momentum in his legs. Agile legs pushed off the ground to deliver a dropkick to the she-bitch.

Still, it would have been better if she turned around to take the full throttle of the kick.

Eusimalkia reeled forward, dazed by the sudden attack... with Dante flying into the house. Whoops.

Her movements stilled when a ghostly blue devil arm snagged her tail, feeling weightless then crashing into the ground. Nero yanked her towards him, using his human hand to grab the wrist of her pincer, repeatedly connecting his fist to her face like a paddle ball with his devil bringer.

A soured visage contorted in a series of twisted expressions, determined to end her existence so he could go home and get some grub. Nero punched her a final time, blood marring her pleasant features before sending her sprawling a few feet away, sensing hard mounds crawl over him in rapid haste.

"Who would be desperate enough to knock you up?" Nero shouted, grabbing her brood and throwing them off him. He withdrew Blue Rose from his holster, shooting a few that tried to pounce on him. The she-scorpion threw a guttural growl his way, getting up with a hardened scowl on her face.

"And who is he?" She asked, pointing her claw to where she sent Dante seconds before. "Your idol? Is his outlandish style the craze these days?" She returned her insult with equal vigor.

The partial-hybrid lifted his head back and giggled, whether due to what she said or because the delusional effects began to take over he wasn't sure. “Why would skinning a cow then dying it dark pink ever be a trend?"

No sooner than he uttered those words he flinched from the instant burn in his neck, reaching up to grab the protruding shard too late. His body stilled, muscles and tendons locking, unwillingly rising off the ground to float towards her. In a fitting gesture to mock his weakness, she clenched and unclenched her pincer, readying the large weapon to decapitate the young hunter.

He gritted his teeth, commanding his muscles to respond to the nerve signals, dropping Red Queen some meters behind him.

"Is that fear I see in your eyes?" she taunted, pressing her lips together to curve into a wicked smile.

The teen's face soured, bristled over her assumption that she frightened him, granted he couldn't do much but that was besides the point. The fragment embedded in the back of his neck prevented him from triggering, otherwise he would have done it the minute he felt the shard pierce his skin.

His head rested between the sharp ridges of her claw, resistant cerulean blues blazing holes through her hazel ones. The spiked rims inched closer to his neck, letting the spikes stab his throat, drawing small rivulets of blood.

"Drop him." The unnaturally chilled tone sounded off behind her. Eusimalkia hushed at the voice, while a noticeable shudder went down Nero's spine.

Hmm, shouldn't their reactions be reversed?

Neither demon sensed his presence, able to sneak upon them undetected. Her head rotated towards him, taking in his stiff, erect posture with his hands positioned to his back. Something about his stance bothered him.

"Drop him. On the ground. Alive."

The partial-demon saw the barely visible twitch of the veteran's right eye, a hard shade of red encircling the pupil to signify his anger. He supposed Dante wanted him a safe distance away before he butchered her senseless.

Salmon-tinted lips formed to say something snippy to her (and Dante for taking his time) but the combination of blood loss, hunger pangs, explosions, and... smothered face-sitting left Nero exhausted; rational thinking rescuing him, saying to let the elder finish her off. He didn't want to get in the way, especially with the evil look Dante sported.

"What will you give me in return?" she cooed, dangling Nero in her claw inches above the ground.

"A kiss."

The fuck?

She wouldn't ponder such a request, nor will she be that dumb to even think about it. Didn't she have it in her head that when she dropped him, Dante would disembowel her without a second glance. But mostly... what the fuck? Really, a kiss? Out of everything he might have said, he went with a kiss?

"After your little love nip earlier? Yeah right, what do you think I am, stupid?"

The youth, with his increasing delirium, nearly mouthed the word “yes” yet decided against it.

"You kill him, you're dead."

She scoffed, moving to tighten her pincer. "And if I don't?"

"You get me."

"Despite what I've told you?"

"Yes."

"And if I kill you?"

"Just don't come after him."

"Such a sacrifice you're willing to make..." Eusimalkia searched in the half-breed's eyes, searching for any hint of trickery.

Lines appeared between Nero's eyebrows, staring at her as if she went insane. Did Dante hold a weapon behind his back or is he feeling unwell? On the other hand, the thought lingered of the hybrid putting himself in harm's way so the teen can escape. True, he was in a bit of a jam but why didn't Dante sneak up on her and chop her arm off or something? It would have been much easier than all this negotiating crap.

The youth's words echoed in his brain from earlier with a snide vengeance, telling the elder he could take care of himself and how he didn't need looking after. He shoved those haunting phrases to the deepest part of his mind. His subconscious didn't need to admonish him like a child.

Slow steps advanced to reach the halfling with the brat in tow, deciding to play it smart and keep the child hostage if the bastard did something sneaky. Common sense told her to kill the hunter in such a proximity, but curiosity said to see what he offered. This was after all, her last chance to attain power. Killing the rascal would enrage him further, his skills speaking of the damage immediate to come to her.

In a snap decision Dante pressed his lips to hers, eliciting a sudden squeak from her, a cool glare looking directly to Nero.

The teenager mentioned he never wanted to have the man's hateful stare upon him again, however this time it felt like he communicated to him in silence. The worst would be over or maybe it warned that some distance would inject itself between them.

She released Nero from her clutches, the fledgling landing on his side in a none-too-graceful fashion with his blue friend appearing underneath him. Her human hand buried itself in the crossbreed's white locks, deepening the kiss after the mongrel relaxed.

Soft hues of periwinkles lessened their pointed focus, redirecting his demonic energy into Rebellion. His hands felt cold and slippery, a hesitant nod given to Nero because he didn't know if his next action should help the teen or not.

Dante had his fair share of Faults in Fortuna's forest, knowing their problematic and irritating strategies. On his air journey from Miss Telekinetic, he noticed the brat running away from them out the corner of his eye.

"You can either thank or kill me later, kid," Dante thought in uncertainty.

The chieftain unsheathed his double-edged weapon in his right hand, feeling the she-bitch tense before he forcefully thrusted the sword in Nero's rib cage, the blade sliding easily through the youth's toned chest. Rebellion left a long dirt trail, sending Nero back on through the living room window as the Fault closed up it's... legs, leaving empty-handed.

The elder knew of the punk's temporary incompetence, observing his bloodied, beaten up state to dodge the hag so he thought of something quick to help the little guy out. He hoped, for both their benefits, that his sword refrained from damaging the teen permanently.

She broke off the kiss first, surprised that the hybrid harmed his partner. Yet did it mean the halfling changed tactics or he saved the brat from death?

"You've switched sides?" An eyebrow raised, gripping the knife still clutched in her hand, away from his peripheral vision.

"Maybe, have you?"

"I don't think I will, sweetheart." The demomess brought her fist forth, the blade connecting to a hard surface above his heart.

A thick, strained scream rippled through his lungs, on the verge of tears when the aches tore through his body. Blood seeped through his chest, mixing with the red of his sweater. His vision blurred, burning from the pain coursing through him.

When that dipshit Agnus pricked him in the same spot he functioned at full capacity, but he closed in at running on empty since this morning. Perhaps the magical energy invested into the sword crippled him.

Frail whimpers sprinkled his voice while lifting his devil hand to the back of his neck where the shard rested. He yanked out the portion, dropping his arm on the side of him, the fragment dropped onto the floor. Strange, white demonic-looking symbols carved into the black piece. Maybe that's why he couldn't trigger; it may have held dormant poison or something.

Nero invoked his inner strength to invoke Yamato, hoping to at least heal from the large hole tearing his rib cage from the veteran's blade. Upon brief reflection, he got pierced through the chest by the elder. Not in the same aspect as the case in Fortuna, but close to it.

No sudden burst of magical stamina simmered through his limbs. His throat burned with intensity; the lack of oxygen forcing his lungs to expand to inhale more air in his already weakened state.

He grew accustomed to his damned nature the more he summoned it. Out of all the times he used his demonic side when his ass got handed to him, which wasn't often, why wasn't his devil side coming into the limelight? It didn't stop him before when Agnus plunged that bird-sword in him, so what stopped him now? Did this transpire because of Dante's weapon? Is it a demon inhibitor or something?

As if on cue, the bedeviled claymore retreated from within him, falling to the ground with a sprout of vigor filling his veins. Yamato's vibrations nourished him with rich and pure energy, his injury mending itself together; the bones, tendons and muscles merging. Invisible strings pulled him to his feet like a puppet, the urge to reunite with the conflict motivated Nero to ram Yamato up Dante's stubborn ass.

Nero was more than capable of moving out of the way from being swallowed whole by that face. Why didn't Dante say anything? 'Sorry, kid.' 'Head's up, kid.' 'This is gonna sting, kid.' Any of those sayings would have sufficed plenty.

A legitimate notion occurred that the youth couldn't dodge the hungry demon in time, and what the veteran did nested on the side of reason. Another thought commenced at the possibility of Nero meeting his unjustifiable end at the hand, or claw, of a rather disturbed she-bitch, and he should actually thank Dante for saving his ass.

He didn't make everyday mistakes, tougher, smarter devils had the strength to inflict a few bruises on his person and he watched for that.

He didn't know the right words to describe this day. Starting with Dante's joke, his defamatory word, the anger shared between the two, and rolling on from then on out confused him. Neither man liked having their ego bruised by the other if it wasn't necessary, and Nero's leaned heavily on a crutch.

That didn't sit too well with him.

An envious aura swelled within his being, feeling an urge to send a 'fuck you' to Dante for the way he handled this situation. It would have been so much easier if they hacked shit to pieces instead of all this 'planning' bullshit.

A surge of energy flourished inside him, holding a crouched, poised stance as Yamato flew out in an arc, sending a wave of blue demonic spirit towards the barbarians outside. He cared not for who the wave hit, preferring to smack that she-devil.

The dark magic invigorating Nero dissipated, feeling strong enough to dig through the fridge in search of a quick bite... or to rest on the couch. A heavy inhale centered his shaky form, turning the cream Lay-Z-Boy armchair over to plop down in it.

He reflected upon the day's affairs, rubbing over his chest where the hole once lied, watching the chief whip out a pair of funky looking scissors. Well, at least he presumed they looked like scissors.

Challenges kept his senses sharp, preserving the need to prove his worth over whatever obstacle stood in his way physically. Unfortunately, this day puzzled him on a mental level; the stabbing incident coming forth in his mind expressed the reason it endured so mystifying.

The negative zeal Dante wore on him like a second skin returned with a vengeance. Alas, with Rebellion thrusted in him that energy coating his aura zoned in on the lady. The scene of their entangled lips ran closer to a kiss of death than anything flirtatious. He surmised that the smooch doubled as a distraction to move aside while Dante finished her off.

By the way she attacked the veteran and brushed the youngster off created the impression that the red hunter had a price on his head. But a pushover he harbored no traits of, even if the fight summoned the hybrid only.

The desire to go back outside to prove to both knuckle-heads his ability to hang in battle with or without the man's help nudged him on. He saw the blue wave closing in on the two barbarians, his legs lengthening to join them... but they walked elsewhere instead, further driven by the growls his stomach emitted.

He strove to maintain a leveled head during his fight with her but something in him broke, reaching deep into his inner core, calling the dark essence nestled with the urge to destroy.

It filled him with a delicious, archaic energy. Red electricity enveloped his entire body, cackling with unbridled pulses with his human mold changing into thickened armor. His coat transformed into red scales, his coattails flaring out into wings with yellow veins pulsing inside the flappers. Turbulent, lemon-hued eyes smiled in hated mirth, sharpened rows of teeth glistening in promise of savage violence.

The shock wave stunned her, recoiling like a cat touching water. A roundhouse kick to the side of her face knocked her off balance, sending her soaring in the air, tumbling hard in the earth. The half-devil brought forth his large fists, showcasing a pair of black and gold tofana scissors over each hand, bending into a fighting stance.

"Get up. Just try and kill me," Dante's voice reverberated in a grim taunt.

"You fucker, you lied!" Her eyes landed upon his altered form, radiating power beyond anything she could have fathomed him to have in his control.

"Goes to show you can never trust a devil." He jeered, ready to hear her cry and scream, images of her mutilated body tickling his imagination. "And I said you could get me, not have me," his distorted voice growled.

Through with the distractions and the taunting, Eusimalkia launched a forward charge, utilizing the momentum to try to tackle him. Dante advanced at the same time, sliding underneath the Scorpion Queen at the last second; using the tofana on his left hand to cut the underside of her belly, grabbing her rear foot on the right. Seeing her hideous, red-painted toes, he decided to get rid of it.

The weapon cleaved her back hoof from its attachment.

Misery laced her howls, whipping her tail around to impale him only to finish losing the familiar feeling in her feet, Dante had sliced those off too. Blocked punches, evaded stinger attacks, and side-stepped maneuvers left Eusimalkia handicapped, her feet reduced to bloody stumps after the half-hell flowed into each crouched attack.

The Hell-cat panted in heavy breaths, worry creeping onto her features, realizing the ease of how his vicious nature struck her in fury. Dammit she knew he had a trick up his sleeve; blinded by her rush to complete the ritual instead of reading him further. Such a stupid move on her part.

She counter-attacked his every hit, but his damned side swiftly met her blow for blow. Acid sprouted in a line towards him yet her head reeled back, three-clawed toes striking her under her chin. The she-devil bit through the pain ripping through her, thrusting the knife forward.

A toughened shell connected to the steel, breaking the blade in half in her drive to stab his heart.

The most sensible thing to do occupied her hasty retreat and return with some added help... and a stronger weapon. Stunned from the ineffective knife, she felt a surge of spiking torment emanating from her tail; the ground sizzled behind her, sensing a lightness registering toward the rear of her body.

The bastard cut off her stinger.

Frustration prickled her face from the wounds inflicted upon her. She heard rumors that the sons of Sparda are tough little bastards to exterminate when focused on a target, and she tasted a raw sample of the rage they harbored.

It would bring her satisfaction the world over if she could take his head and devour it.

Remembering the shard he had flinched from earlier, she lifted her hand to stop the hunter. Not knowing when he reverted into his human form, he took her wrist, yanking her towards him in a possessive fashion and kissed the back of it in a gentlemanly gesture, drawing forth the tofana scissors and cutting off the appendage.

Eusimalkia screamed like a rabid cat, thrashing around her pincer in a haphazard manner, intent on landing any kind of punch on her smiling attacker.

He steadied himself, forcing his devil back into its cage before it finished savoring its meal. It rattled and thrashed in its prison, demanding to cleave at her until she remained a bloody stump of her former self. But it wasn't necessary.

She had nothing left to fight with.

"Throwing in the white towel already? I haven't even got my worth in yet," Dante remarked in a snide tone. He stood in front of her, taking in her messy mane, bloodied face and swollen lips.

“You wretched scum!” she growled, saliva forming to pool out her mouth. She did not come this far, on the verge of tasting victory just to fail. She couldn't allow it. If she can retreat to rejuvenate and come back, she should not disappoint herself.

Only the son of Sparda didn't seem too keen on letting her go.

"I refuse to fall before you―"

"Yet you ain't necessarily standing either," the veteran gloated, unaware of the evasive maneuver she conjured.

"You think you... have it so... easy, don't you?" A scratched throat wheezed out her words with force; using what weak strength she had left to summon a portal to a secret location she guaranteed would heal her. "Always believing that... you're unstoppable and you... can't be defeated. I grow weary... of the talk surrounding you."

The red hunter noticed a wavy-like structure forming behind her. Another desperate attempt to attack him? A last-ditch effort to try and kill him, or did she call forth some bodyguards to have a hand at him?

"What's the gossip about me this week, huh? No wait, let me guess... the hellions are planning my oh-so-inevitable demise?" Dante said in a bored voice, yet the deepened scowl on his face belied the teasing joke.

Dante shook out his arms, readying to deliver the finishing blow when the hairs raised on the back of his neck. A slender, blue wave surpassed him, hitting the she-devil dead on in her chest while concurrently... knocking her into the portal, closing up behind her. That's what that wavy thing was? A portal she could go run to cry in, how pathetic.

"So, the little lady can open up portals at will, huh?" The half-demon wondered in disappointment. Without a doubt his mind knew she would turn up again, not to mention with some probably irritating-as-hell minions to support her.

"Fuck," Dante said, pestered that he had no choice but to stay here until she showed her face again when he should've ended her existence. At least she couldn't control him with her hand anymore; the triggered state must have rid of the sliver enabling her to whip him this way and that.

And what the hell did Nero call himself doing?

Dante absorbed his new weapon into his body, Rebellion regaining her seat on his back. Nero's beloved sword lay on the ground a few meters away, Dante absently approaching its location.

Maybe the kid roamed in a weakened, delusional mindset as he would not desert his prized baby or pull a Yamato-esque move without just cause, helping out or not that was foolish. Once Red Queen slipped into his hand he turned towards the house, the scowl never leaving his face, stiff movements trailing to the sliding kitchen door.

Nero looked out the window of the kitchen to see the chieftain with a hardened glare aimed in his direction, unhurriedly sinking his teeth inside a banana. A silver eyebrow lifted with the piece of fruit still in his mouth, wondering why Dante glowered with such a cold look.

He wasn't in trouble with what he did with Yamato, was he?

A/N: I wanted to show Dante's dark side with more of an aggressive streak than usual, so hopefully his actions didn't startle too many of you. :D
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Dreams Will Be Made Of These