| Waiting at the DMC | ||
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From the inescapable darkness of the entrance to a fairly brightly lit room, your eyes most likely take a moment to adjust. Or not. Who the heck am I to tell you what your eyes are doing? I'm just a stupid narration. The paint scheme in here is a messy, splotchy mix of black and red. It looks as though the original paint was all black and perhaps someone decided to 'art' the place up a tad with some red highlights. It doesn't do much for the decor, to tell you the truth. A single pane of windows lie on either side of a very plain looking brown desk in the middle of the room. Yeah, nothing special about it. It's a desk. Cope. A non-descript black office chair lies just behind that desk. Nothing special about it either. There seems to be a theme here. - Off to one side is what appears to be a secretaries desk, which may or may not be manned. A single workstation with an LCD monitor and attached keyboard seems to be the only thing adorning the desk usually, although whomever is currently playing the role might very well spruce it up. - In the back of the room are a set of stairs that lead upward to another section of the building. Looking really out of place, a set of metal doors have been added to the wall behind the desk. They don't seem to have any obvious way of opening. Strange... It's a cold night in Mabase this evening. The nearly full moon rests in the sky alone without a cloud to obscure it. Not that it's really the moon, or those are really stars behind it, but the light reflecting down is very real and the shadows it casts are surprisingly long for this hour. A car or two travels down the quiet streets, rattling away at the still damaged roads that wind through the red light district. Normally at this hour the more "normal" bars are shutting down and the more questionable ones are firing up for a new round of drunken customers gathering for a new place to drink before going home, but tonight there's barely a person to be seen. Dimly the illuminated Devil May Cry sign flickers in the cold. The neon gas inside barely glowing from age and temperature, casting a red haze over the door below it. Inside the building, staring blankly at a wobbling old fan on the ceiling, sits Tabitha Li-Bogard, leaning back in the reclining chair at the main desk. The young woman is still relatively the same as she was the last time someone actually came in to visit her. She's only about an inch taller. Her clothes are a little more ragged with a few badly sewn patches on her red jacket to fill in some new tears. Her eyes are a little more sunken from a few too many nights without sleep over the past year. She narrows those blue eyes a bit before grabbing an empty soda can and chucking it at the fan, causing it to wobble and creak. "I still ain't forgotten you, ya know! Two years an' I'm still not forgivin' you!" Her fuzzy cat ears narrow and she hisses lightly at it instinctively. A moment later the girl lets out a sigh and a yawn. "Can't believe it's been that long already..." Reaching for a drawer under the desk, the young woman takes out another can of soda and cracks it open. "Thanks, Pop. Still so appreciative that ya made me get drunk on sugar." She takes a long drink and shakes her head. "Dick." Relatively the office looks the same as it ever did, although maybe slightly cleaner despite the odd soda can or two on the floor. There's at least 10% less roaches now. Improvements!!
The lights in the DMC might have just flickered a bit more than usual. It's not an unusual night...but that extra pulsing of the soft yellow glow of heated LEDs paints an odd strobe for a beat in time. The air thickens, if JUST imperceptibly, with an old power. One perhaps not felt in this building for a time now. It's frail in comparison to the screaming brashness that would once herald this presence...but it alights there all the same. A familiar voice croaks out from the shadow of the doorframe, the door a jar but a moment and now swinging shut once again as this figure steps out into the light. "Ah, Tabs. Come on. Give old dad a break here. I fucking suck at parenthood." The ragged form of Dante Sparda steps forward. His dusty trenchcoat wearing the bloody stains of many battles. Some won...many lost. His wrinkles bely his advanced age. He still moves with a strength and grace that reveal his demonic substrate...but ah, his humanity is showing. He looks haggard and sleepless. As he attempts to speak again, a coughing fit leaves a black ichor oozing from astride his lips for just a moment...writhing in and out of this reality before fading away into flakes of ash. As he gathers himself...he offers a small grin, his wolf like canines still glinting just a tad. "Sorry kid. I...I screwed up. I kept screwing up... I ... I wanted to come back home. There any place for a washed up stud like myself anymore?"
Tabitha looks towards the door with a start at the sound of Dante's voice. The can of soda she holds slips out of her grasp a moment, only catching it again after it hits the desk. The jolt immediately causes the cola to bubble and flow over the side. With a defeated shrug she immediately puts the can to her lips and tries to gulp it down lest the mess grow larger. It takes a moment before it's under control again, at which point she addresses the figure in the doorway with an accusing finger point. "Fuck. Not this again. Look "Dante" ya ain't him." She lets out an annoyed sigh at what she's certain is just another figment of her forever damaged psyche. "For one thing, he ain't my Dad. He didn't just go out ta get milk an' not come back. I s'pose next you'll ask me ta go out an' throw a baseball around?" Wiping her free hand on her shorts before using it to pull her shaggy bangs back out of her face, Tabitha then gives the old man a weak smile, "It's nice to see ya either way. I wish he would come in those doors one day, but we both know better." She takes another drink from her can before shaking her head at her own statement. "I know better. The Shatterin' was two years ago. He ain't comin' back."
"Dante" chuckles a bit at that one. He staggers forward and plops himself down on his old desk, sitting on top of it. "Yeah, Tabs. I wouldn't believe in me either. Hell, I'm probably NOT really here. That'd make sense. I probably died in Hell. Eh...no surprise there." He makes an idle gesture in the direction of the kitchen. The sound of the fridge popping open echos through the sparsely furnished space. A beer, probably of a local make...that was probably NOT in fridge before floats into view...and deposits itself in his hand. He laughs in a slightly gutteral voice that briefly seems to come from every corner of the room. He shakes his head as if in pain....blue light shining in his eyes, his aura alighting with white sparks for a brief moment as he grits his teeth in pain. Once in control of himself again, as the energy fades, he nods a thanks to the DMC. "Thanks old friend. Least someone remembers me around here." With a wide grin, obviously understanding just why Tabs wouldn't believe him in the first place...and chugs the beer in one gulp. "Ya don't realize what you've lost until time ravages ya. It amazes me how many times my dumb ass had to learn that." He shakes his head clear. Waving the empty beer bottle in Tabs direction, he chides her in what sounds like a teasing manner. "First off, I may NOT be your biological father...but I think I've earned at least ONE 'father' if not 'dad' by now." He stops for a beat or two...and lowers his head just a bit. "Then again, I've been a real deadbeat this whole time, huh?"
Watching quietly as a can of beer levitates itself across the room, the Nekojin simply nods her head. "Yep. I've drank too much." She looks down at the mostly empty can in her hand and sighs. "Goddammit, Johnny." Holding out the can as if it were something disgusting, she drops into a small trash bin beside the desk. In an unintentional bit of mimicry, she throws her feet up on the desk and leans back, arms crossed behind her head. "Yer a stubborn figment, ain'tcha?" She shakes her head again wondering how much longer this is gonna last. "Ol' Dante would be a terrible father, yeah. A total deadbeat." No punches pulled there. "Still…" she adds with a slight frown, "He was a good friend. I think I told him he was more like tha cool Uncle than anythin'." With a sigh Tabitha lowers her arms again, crossing them over her chest. "Why am I doin' this again?" She lets her words hang in the air a moment before muttering to herself, "It's been two years. Where th' hell did you go?" Dropping her feet to the ground again, the chair slamming to the ground loudly, the young woman stands up and marches up to the disheveled Dante and punches him in the chest. "Where the fuck are you?!" Her hand is still balled up in a fist as she looks down at it in confusion. She may not be thinking clearly, but she certainly felt that. Thrown completely off she looks up at the taller man; paying attention for maybe the first time tonight. "You're taller than usual?" Give her a moment. She's starting to figure it out.
Dante winces. Ok, yeah, he deserves that. He mutters, "Ok, yeah. Maybe I don't actually deserve a title like that. I'll take Uncle. Uncle works. Better than I've earned." He watches quietly as Tabs works this out. Even his few functional brain cells have realized that allowing Tabitha to work this out on her own is probably best. Dante winces ever so slightly as he's punched in the chest. It doesn't do any real damage of course, but he looks quite impressed! He always thought Tabs could be a warrior to be reckoned with. He peers down at her with an apologetic look, for once in his miserable little life. He proffers forth a weak sigh and, if not prevented, reaches down and rests a hand gently on Tabs head. Attempting, at least, to pet her hair gently (Uncle Dante or not, he can't help but try to be fatherly...). "Same old story, Tabs. Chasing a demon, ending up in Hell. Well, a Hell at least. I've been to so many now. I lost track of her...failed to retrieve the person she murdered and she managed to lead me straight to perdition." He slumps backwards against the desk a bit, rubbing his forehead. He truly looks older than ever. "I wandered for a while...looking for a way home. I thought...that I was tryin' to find whatever universe I came from. Kept trying to picture this...world that I belong to. I didn't want to abandon..." He trails off there for just a moment... He shakes his head clear and continues, "It took me forever to get outta there. I couldn't focus...until I realized somethin' important. I've met a lot of other Dante's...and Vergils. Trishes and Marys...all from different worlds. I was sure I was just tryin' to find the right one...and .." He smiles. A smile that's possibly much more genuine than any smile he has concocted in his youth..."All I could picture was Twisted. All I could picture...was you. That I had left behind everythin' that means a damn thing to me behind." He peers about the DMC appreciatively. Patting the desk gently he nods, looking equal parts ancient and boyish. "I'm not a rocket surgeon ova hea...but I think I'm just Twisteds Dante, after all."
The pat on the head gets a strange look from the Nekojin as realization firmly dawns on her. She's about to hug him when Dante continues his story, ultimately leaving her staring blankly with one brow raised. "Well, you might actually be real. Nothing I could have hallucinated would be that sappy." Tabitha shakes her head again before walking up closer and punching him in the shoulder. Ironically a little harder this time. "You fuckin' jerk! Ya couldn't have said somethin'?! I thought we were gonna look inta the Council an' all those weird shenanigans and instead ya skip town for a demon?" She slumps against the desk beside him, crossing her arms again. After a beat or two she flops her head against his arm affectionately. "I've missed ya though." It's only for a moment however, as she straightens up again. "Hell though, huh? Did you think about talkin' to Judge High-And-Mighty?" She means Johnny in this instance. "They drag everyone that comes into Hell past 'em. He coulda probably told you somethin'." She taps the side of her head a moment as she takes a step away again. "I still get some of his garbage when I sleep." That does explain why she looks like she hasn't been doing much of that lately.
Dante is an old fart. Give him his schmaltz! Lol. Dante laughs it off. "Yeah, well, wait until you're old and broken like I am. You'll enjoy the emotional moments a bit more." Dante then winces, again, as he's socked in the shoulder. Tabs definitely hits a bit harder now. Good to see. The world'll roll you if you aren't tough enough. "Yeah...I know, I was a shitty friend. I'm sorry for that. The longer I ran around out there, the harder it was for me to face my responsibilities. ... I always preferred fucking, fighting and drinking my way through those....emotions. Still...how DO you think you were paying the rent here, huh?" He offers a sly little wink and half-grin at that one. He then sighs softly, the age once again drawing lines on his old, weathered face. "It was bullshit though, yeah. I shoulda just stopped running my sorry old ass around, in the first place." At the mention of Nny, he just kind of shrugs half-heartedly. "I haven't talked to Johnny in a while. I'm not sure if he'd want to talk to my sorry ass either. Especially now. ... Can't say we were ever close. It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm not a demon hunter anymore. I'm only here to watch over Twisted with my remaining days... Dunno how long it'll take for this fucking demonic energy to eat what's left of me, but I'm not leaving this place behind again...not like before." His face darkens for just a moment... "If I ever see her around these parts again, though...I won't be so fucking horn-NICE. I won't be so nice this time around." He breaks from his soliloquy for moment to address something Tabs said before. "What kinda shit you seeing these days? You... don't look like you're sleepin'. Is it getting worse?..."
Hearing him out, Tabitha nods along as she waits for him to pause so she can explain. "Well, a few of them are the same answers. I've been tryin' my hand at keepin' this place open. Odd jobs 'ere and there." As she speaks she makes her way around to the back of the desk, opening up the bottom drawer and taking out a stack of envelopes. "I just sorta gave up on sleepin' along the way. Easier ta drink a few sodas an' get shit faced before I do." She pauses a moment to scowl at the trash can. She's never liked that Johnny misremembered Samantha getting drunk off of sugar, but there's nothing she can do about it now. "The rest was kinda… hmm. These." She tosses the envelopes on the desk and shrugs. All of them are identical envelopes with the address of the building written in fancy lettering. On top of them is a simple, folded note that reads the following: To whom it may concern, The Nekojin simply shrugs. "You've got some strange friends, Dante."
Dante takes the letter tentatively. Something...smells very familiar here. He glanced over it with furrowed brow. All at once recognition settles in. His face contorts for a moment as blue energy whips across it in a brief display of gossamer whips that leaves small bloody spots on his visage that abruptly heal...and all at once the energies fade to ashen material and drift away. Dante's head slumps and he laughs just a bit sardonically and maybe a touch of irony. "I don't even remember what debt this fucker is referring to...hell, I dunno if I'm even the right Dante. ... Ah...Thanks Vergil. I guess I owe you a final battle for this one. You went above and beyond any debt." Dante can't help but wipe a tear from his eye. An odd black ichor that seems to writhe angrily for a moment before also drifting away into a now familiar ash. "You're right, Tabby cat, I have the weirdest friends ever. ... Don't think I'd trade em for anything."
Tabitha watches quietly, both amused and intrigued by Dante's reaction to the letter. She'll have to remember to ask about that blue magic sometime later. After giving him some breathing room, she crosses her arms and nods her head towards the stairs. "So, I imagine you probably want ta crash. I didn't mess with your room. I've only really cleaned up this main room and th' kitchen." With a brief pause she looks around at the empty cans on the floor and shrugs, "It was awhile ago, I admit." She offers up another weak smile, clearly not sure what to do with herself at the moment. She doesn't have anywhere to go anymore. She's just basically been squatting here while she took care of the place. "How 'bout you get some rest an' in the mornin' I'll get ya caught up to speed with what's been going on? There's kinda a lot ta go over since things changed over." After another short pause she adds with a genuine smile, "Th' club next door makes a mean french toast. I'll go get ya some when th' sun comes up! We can have breakfast together."
Dante laughs a bit, waving it off. "Fuck...this is cleaner than I've ever kept this place. Crashing sounds nice right about now. I'm...more exhausted than I've been in my entire pathetic little life." Dante pats Tabs on the shoulder. "Breakfast sounds great. We can get all caught up. It's good to be home." As he begins to head to a familiar staircase to a familiar room which is hopefully not growing familiar fungus by now...he pauses, looking back. "Where have you been sleepin'? When you do sleep I mean. You...should have a room up there somewhere..." He trails off there...as if certain memories dance just out of reach. He shakes his head clear after a moment. "Well, if there isn't yet, just...ask I think. This is your home too." With that oddball explanation, he slowly steps his way up the stairs and disappears into the shadows around the corner.
The Nekojin's mouth moves to speak in response to his question, but when Dante continues marching off she just shakes it off and smiles. At least it sounds like she's good to stick around for now. Had he stuck around she'd have told him she basically just slept in his chair, but that can wait. Once she's sure he's out of sight she goes back to said chair and again kicks her feet up on the desk, that smile still lingering on her face. For the first time in forever things feel normal again. That was good enough for now. | |
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