pullit | IC Contact (Folkmore)

[Vergil wrinkles his nose slightly at the comparison, but eats his bite of dinner rather than attempting to talk around it to comment. He lets it go in the end.]

Regardless of how much aggravation you feel at the prospect of training like that, it will be worth it in the end.

[And a better way to learn than either Sparda twin learned even if Nero is justified in complaints of tedium with the method. In all honesty, Vergil finds himself a little envious of Nero even if he's unwilling to say as much out loud. While Vergil would never diminish his own accomplishments by implying it ultimately inferior, it would have been better to have Sparda guiding him in mastering his abilities rather than being left to figure it out on his own and through necessity. That was simple objective fact as far as Vergil was concerned, and not just mere speculation.]

But you had best think twice before attempting to show me up if you start outpacing me, child. I won't allow for that.

[He's teasing, of course. Not about the prospect that Nero could someday grow greater in strength and talent than his father before him, but the notion that Vergil would feel such immediate envy that he would feel the need to put Nero back in his place. Just as Dante and Vergil have arguably surpassed their father, it should only be natural that Nero ought to someday surpass Vergil as well. There may be a bit of a bruised pride and ego there still with as much as Vergil has sought the ability to dominate over all others with his power, of course, but it would be summarily eclipsed by the pride he would feel in Nero that it would not matter.]

["Child." Nero can't help but twitch a little every time he hears it. Though it's become obvious now that it's Vergil's stilted, stuffy attempt at a nickname or... an endearment, even, rather than some kind of insult meant to belittle or patronize him. It still earns his father a side-eye and a smirk, along with that teasing warning.]

Sorry to say, old man, showing you up's gonna be my victory lap.

[So far, "old man" has been reserved for Dante in the sense that Nero frequently calls him old. Maybe it's a good sign that he's comfortable enough to try it out on Vergil... in the sense that Vergil is, in fact, his old man.

And also old.

He takes another sip of his cocoa, and with his other hand turns down the volume on his wrestling match. They've started pummeling each other with chairs now, and this indicates he actually wants to chat with Vergil.

Nero would ask how Vergil trained his powers back when he was young, except he gets the feeling he already knows the answer. And that he wouldn't get a straight one out of Vergil anyway.]

My powers always have been kind of fucky. Always been more or less how I could best make it work, rather than actually knowing how anything worked.

[It's rare that Vergil finds himself taken off-guard. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that it's rare for him to find himself taken off-guard in this specific manner where the surprise of it doesn't fill him with frustration or leave him agitated. But Nero calls him "old man" and not by his name, and it doesn't really matter whether he means it in the familial sense or the way Dante does when he's trying to get a rise out of Vergil; the surprise is a pleasant and warm one. As Nero sets about with adjusting the volume on his Relic, Vergil simply remains still a moment with just the faintest of smiles before he returns to eating.]

[There's a thoughtful hum to Nero's brief albeit colorful means of describing coming into his powers.]

I suppose more awareness is one small benefit Dante and I both had in the brief time our father was with us. [Sparda never had the opportunity to teach his boys properly, but they were at least aware of their heritages and had more to go on than...whatever exactly happened to Nero.] How old were you when your powers began to emerge?

[Nero smiles a little crookedly at the question. It's the sort of wry amusement that comes after many, many years of processing, learning, and dealing with how difficult and complicated his heritage has made his life. These days, he's learned to accept his powers as a vital part of who he is. It's easier now to look back with empathy and even some fondness on his prior struggles. Frustration. Abject fear.]

I was always more athletic than the other kids. Ran faster. Way stronger, even more than the adults, especially when I joined the knights. But I didn't think anything was wrong until my arm happened.

[He absently reaches over to touch his now human-looking right forearm.]

I was 16.

[It's hard not to at least glance at Nero's arm, especially when he reaches over to touch it, but Vergil keeps it to just a glance before quickly averting his gaze. He's apologized, and for all intents and purposes, he is forgiven. But there is still a tug of some kind of complicated emotion that he doesn't particularly wish to dwell upon any further than he already has.]

What happened exactly?

[Body parts suddenly becoming permanently demonic wasn't exactly part of Vergil's own experience, and he would hazard a guess the same was true for Dante. So, he cannot even begin to guess what would cause something like that in the first place.]

[Incredibly, Nero's not even thinking about the loss of his arm at the moment. He's focused further back, to that day in the woods and the troubles that followed.]

I got hurt, saving Kyrie and some kids from a demon. Slashed my arm up pretty good. Then instead of healing the wound... changed. Turned weird colors, and started to spread until it overtook my whole arm. [He does not feel a particular need to describe the specifics of how it looks. Vergil's seen it.]

At first, I thought I got infected with something. Totally thought I was gonna die. Then I realized it was demonic. I just... felt it and knew.

[Which was, at the time, worse than thinking he was dying.]

I thought I was turning into a demon. I was really scared, and I knew the Order would freak out if they knew. So I pretended my arm was still hurt, wore a sling, and learned to fight one-handed.

[He was too frightened to tell even Credo or Kyrie. Especially Kyrie. And at the time he knew he wouldn't be able to hide it forever. Fortunately, his instincts back then had been correct; if Order freaks like Agnus had found out about his powers, at best he'd have been thrown in a cage and experimented on. At worse, plugged into the false Savior as a battery much, much sooner.]

[Vergil continues to eat while he listens to Nero's recounting of how his arm came to be, and hums thoughtfully at its conclusion. It sounds as though perhaps his healing factor was attempting to manifest, but it was not able to do so completely. The reasons for why it would not awaken completely, if Vergil had to hazard a guess, likely stemmed from Nero's ignorance of his heritage. Not knowing of the demonic blood that flowed within his veins, he wouldn't have any idea of the power within him to properly awaken it. It is little wonder that it's taken him this long to begin truly tapping into the full potential of his abilities. Had he never crossed paths with Dante and everything else that unfolded, it's likely it would have taken longer. Assuming that it ever happened at all, of course.]

Given the circumstances, you did the best you likely could have. [Which is not some form of awkward praise from Vergil, so much as it's his observation of what Nero's shared with him about what happened when his demonic powers first manifested. Vergil finally reaches for his own hot chocolate and takes a sip. Unlike Nero's there's no spicy kick to Vergil's; it's a white chocolate with lavender instead.] I assume when you came to possess it, Yamato was able to awaken more of your power.

[It is, after all, what it did for Vergil. It would only make sense that the blade would do the same for Nero, especially if it was willing to submit to him as a temporary master in Vergil's absence.]

[Nero nods. It's not necessarily meant to be a compliment, he doesn't think, but he does appreciate Vergil's insight on his... learning process. (Some part of him is too ready to imagine him scorning Nero for being weak or incomplete, fumbling pathetically to utilize his power. At this point, he suspects that's more of him projecting than it is any judgment or view of Vergil.)]

It was broken. The Order had it in pieces in their lab, and their asshole chief alchemist was fucking around with it. When I went down there, his demons attacked me and... [He pauses a moment before he goes on.] I think I might have died? Or I at least came close.

Then Yamato saved me. Or my real power woke up. Maybe both? But the sword fixed itself and that's when I was able to use it.

I see...

[There's the barest shift in Vergil's expression when Nero discloses his near-death experience. When he assumed that the Yamato must have done for Nero what it did for him, he did not think nor intend for it to be that similar... If anything, he would hope that was one thing they would not share out of all the possibilities. What sort of parent would he be if he were not to hope for as much? When he glances down toward his food, that shift in his expression remains, his quiet afterward now tinged by a sort of ache he does not entirely know how he would describe.]

We've that in common then, [he says, offering a mild explanation for his reaction, but otherwise choosing to let the matter rest. There is no need to dig into the specifics of his past now.]

[That info is clearly painful for Vergil somehow. Well, really... take your pick. Nero (nearly) dying? Yamato being broken and used by Order scumbags?

When he reveals that Yamato once saved him too, Nero makes a weak smile and glances away. He's certainly not going to ask for the specifics, there.]

Good ol' Yamato. [By reflex, he reaches over and sets a hand on Vergil's elbow as though to comfort him. So reflexive he isn't even aware he's doing it until he does, at which point he pauses and then slowly withdraws it once he... thinks it won't be awkward. Is he allowed to touch Vergil yet?] Dante said that's how he knew who I was. The way Yamato responded to me.

[Of course, Nero had not the slightest clue at the time. Not who Vergil was, not what Yamato was capable of, not even really why it was the catalyst to pull that phantom demon out of Nero's skin. First it was his arm. Then the voices in his dreams. Then that ghostly reflection that echoed Nero's true power, even if he wasn't strong enough to manifest it yet.]

At some point... I stopped being afraid. My arm was weird, but it never hurt and never felt wrong. And I realized everything my power could do, if I chose to embrace it. So I thought, maybe my arm was turning into what it was always meant to. I was always different from everyone else... and maybe I was supposed to be.

[He meets Vergil's eyes briefly, then glances back down at his hands wrapped around the cup of cocoa.]

Being part demon hasn't always been easy. But it's part of me. I stopped hiding my arm after the Savior shit. People can either take me as I am, or get bent.

[Vergil glances at the hand on his elbow, but there is no further reaction to it even if he finds it initially a little puzzling. It's only as Nero takes his hand back that Vergil realizes it was meant to be a gesture of comfort, and he feels a touch foolish for not immediately recognizing it as such. Vergil recovers quickly from the mild amount of embarrassment, however, and refocuses on Nero, nodding a little at Dante's telling of how he knew for certain who Nero was since he'd received the same story from Dante as far as that was concerned. The rest earns a smile from Vergil. It starts off small as Nero begins to describe the change, but by the end, it's likely the most Nero has ever seen his father smile yet. More than that, however, there is a distinct sense of pride in his eyes as he looks at Nero.]

Good. [While not exactly timid or presenting as wilting, Vergil has a noticeable tendency to be quite careful in the words he chooses to use with Nero. Now, there is no such care taken insomuch it's clear that it is from his own convictions, from his very core that Vergil now speaks. It is something that he knows rather than something he's spent a great deal of time overthinking before attempting to voice. To that end, Nero may very well reject what Vergil has to say, and that is entirely his prerogative. But for Vergil? This remains firmly true for him.] Your demonic heritage is a gift that should be embraced, but it does not come without its price.

[For all that Dante likely believes that Vergil so blindly embraced demonic power and only relished in the strength it provided him, he did not entirely. After Eva's death, he spent his life hunted because he refused to conceal himself. While it was impossible for him to understand the full extent of what that meant he lost and what he ended up sacrificing in the name of that power until much later, he was not so ignorant that he didn't understand the connection between those that pursued him and his choice to not hide and embrace his father's legacy in the only ways he knew how. It was simply a hardship he was willing to accept.]

It is unlikely that the Order will be the last of those you find who would covet the power in your blood, but you will find there are also some who would doubt your strength because of the heart your mother gifted you with. [Demonic blood sullied by a human womb. Words that still to this day settle uncomfortable within his memories and yet he knows are unlikely to be the last ever spat about their mixed heritage.] But they only succeed in rending your strength from you when you surrender yourself to them. If you remain certain of yourself—the whole of yourself—and you allow no one to lay claim to your power, you will always possess the strength to protect what matters most to you.

[It feels a little like staring into bright lights-- catching a glimpse of the way Vergil's looking at him. It's not the first time he's seen that expression, in little flashes here and there. But this is the first time Vergil's smiled at him so openly-- or at least, the first time he's noticed it so keenly, and known what it means.

His father is proud of him.

For once, he finds himself unwilling to divert his eyes and look away, even though he's keenly aware how brightly he's flushing, and how close he is to the verge of abrupt, impulsive tears. Tearing up, at least. He exhales shakily and wrests back control of his emotions, and knows exactly the sentiment behind them.]

That means a lot, coming from you.

[Merely human. Petulant mortal flesh. Cursed, the moment you were brought into this world. Even as they came in the midst of exhaustion and agony, Nero hasn't forgotten those scornful words, nor has he forgotten that they came from one (dark, unmitigatedly cruel, concentratedly wicked) side of his own father. To see him now, contained, humanized, balanced and proud of him...

When it becomes too much, he glances away, somewhere across the room. He unconsciously grazes his fingers over his chest (over the heart his mother gave him,) and quietly nods.]

That's all I ever wanted. The power to protect the people I care about. Kyrie, and... [One more very brief sideways glance at Vergil before he adds, almost shyly,] my family.

Edited (stray punctuation) 2024-12-12 16:20 (UTC)

[Vergil's expression softens slightly as Nero adds the mention of family, heart clenching in a way that feels both at once a pleasant warmth and pained all at once. It's never a responsibility that Vergil ever intends to place upon Nero's shoulders even if he's technically done so once before albeit without his knowledge. It simply is not the natural order of things for a son to have a duty in protecting his father like that. But the want being there...]

You have that power. You always have. Even if you haven't always understood it or been able to access it, it's always been within you from the moment you were born.

[It is only a matter of learning to master it now, and that is something that will come with time and practice, all of which Nero is willing to take until he gets it right.]

Thank you.

[He says it reflexively, then goes quiet for a moment. Then there's a loud, ugly snort, the distinctive sound of forcibly sniffling back tears. Another moment of quiet, tense with the possibility of another snort, but he manages to fight it off without one.

There's another moment as he debates saying what's on his mind. And finally, he glances back at Vergil for a moment.]

And thanks for... you've been trying really hard. I know it's been weird and difficult but I-

[He looks away, cracking the edges of a smile.] I see you. It means more to me than I can say. Thank you.

[Part of Vergil wants to dismiss the notion that it's been weird or difficult. Or, at the very least, the latter. There's been more difficult things in Vergil's life with significantly less benefit to it than getting to know his son, and trying to figure out with him how they might fit into one another's lives now that they know of each other's existences. But just because there's been more challenges than this, that does not mean it has been easy. For either of them albeit likely for different reasons. So, Vergil says nothing to the contrary even if the recognition and the expressed gratitude...]

[Well, they're admittedly part of that weird aspect of all of this. It has not been often and certainly not in a long, long time that Vergil's efforts have been met with positive acknowledgment never mind overt gratitude. He has to look away from Nero for a moment as well when Nero claims to see him. As much as Vergil knows so much of his circumstances were of his own making, he knows his self-imposed isolation was only truly tolerable because he did not allow for the possibility of an alternative. Without his mother, without his father, and without his brother, he carried himself as one who was always destined to be alone in the world, cutting off and burning every possible bridge others might try to form before it could even begin.]

[Except... Just once, he didn't. Even if he ultimately did not possess the courage or strength to stay back then, to allow himself that want of being understood and seen once more, he could not deny that just once, he let himself indulge in that feeling of being wanted and loved. The proof of it, after all, was seated with him at this very table now.]

[Vergil swallows thickly, tempering the swell of emotion in his chest for the moment.]

Even if based upon your own reasons, you had chosen to reject and refuse me as your father, there would be no greater fool than me if I were to abandon you again, Nero. [There would be no factor of ignorance that would have led to that outcome as it had in the past. And it never could have been through any fault of Nero's regardless of how gentle or harsh his rejection of Vergil would have been. It would have been purely Vergil's own shortcomings, a lack of strength and courage, that would lead him to make such a poor choice as that in those circumstances.] I am not here or doing any of this because of guilt or a drive to rectify the past, or out of a sense of paternal duty and obligation to my kin.

[He looks at Nero again.]

I am here because you are more important to me than you will likely ever understand.

[He finds it terribly endearing when Vergil has to look away from him. Particularly when he does the same thing a moment later, and they're left catching glances in very small bursts or out of the corner of their eyes.

Honestly? He wouldn't have held it against Vergil if he did make an effort with Nero out of guilt, or duty, or obligation. Vergil could have stuck around because he wanted to borrow Red Queen and Nero would have agreed to it, at least initially. None of that really mattered when it all led to the same outcome: a father who existed in his life. A father who wanted him.

Hearing him say that...]

I can't explain it, you can't explain it... we're really sitting here grunting back and forth, huh?

[There's the other snort. And this time Nero is definitely crying, though it's in the form of a few tears spilling and his chest shaking, while he stays in control of his voice.]

You really are my dad.

( On this particular evening, he strolls his way on into the garage that comes with their new humble abode with a cardboard box in his arms. He's been out most of the day and has only just got back and is in search of his dear nephew who he thinks is in the garage here. Turns out? He's right. Just like back home, really, Nero being in it, tinkering around and working on whatever he's busying himself with at the time. Some things never change, regardless of place it seems. )

Hey, kid. Got somethin' for ya.

[Tunes blasting, worklights on, Nero is fiddling around with what looks like an old engine. It's lying dismantled across his workbench, and he sets down a wrench and turns around as Dante heads in. Somehow, he's smudged grease on his cheek.]

Oh boy! A box! [Smartass.]

( Heh. Again. Some things never change regardless of place.

Shake of his head though, boots scuff against the flooring as he makes his way over, jiggling the box a little to let Nero hear there's things inside it and no, it's not just a cardboard box, thanks. )

Wait 'til you see what's inside.

( To which he sets the box down near the kid and shows off the bits and pieces of scrap metal inside. )

Ta-da!

[Well, isn't that a satisfying rattle? Nero steps aside to give him a place to set it, then leans over to take a peek inside.]

Oh, hell yeah. Where'd you get all that?

[He pulls out a small piece of aluminum flashing to examine.]

( Hands on his waist, he smiles, proud of himself. )

Here and there. Thought you could use it for ( as he waves about with a hand ) whatever you do in here.

Oh, a little of this and a little of that. Whatever I feel like.

[He smiles and picks up the box to set it on a stool, the easier to go through it.] Thank you. I can get into all kinds of trouble with all this.

[As he digs, he gestures with his head.] You wanna grab a beer and join me? I was just taking this engine apart.

( Oh, so he wants him to stick around, huh? )

Sure. I don't have anything else planned for the moment.

( What with having just got in and all. Nod of his head, he throws a smile to the kid. )

Be right back.

( To which he wanders out of the garage to grab himself a beer from the fridge. Lucky for him, he never really has to worry about Vergil touching his stash. Sure, he probably eyes it when he opens the fridge and has some sort of thought about it, but. Whatever. If he really wanted one, he wouldn't get mad about it. Just they always end up being for him, so.

Twisting the cap off, he makes his way back in, indulging in a sip as he does. )

So this is what you do in your spare time around here, huh? Just like home.

[Unky, he almost always wants you to stick around.

Nero's got a beer of his own on standby off to the side, but he ignores it for the moment in favor of digging through the box. Some good pieces in here... things with screws and bolts and other things he can reuse. Might try his hand at melting some of it down, too, even if he has to makeshift the equipment to do so.

As Dante returns, he reaches for his own open beer bottle and tilts it at him as though to toast.]

Keeps me off the streets.

Without Nico I'm at a bit of a disadvantage, and I don't have any real projects in mind yet... though if I get this engine going maybe we can strap it to something, huh?

Not plannin' on askin' the Fox for that van of yours?

( You know, the one he sent the sign to the kid for. Well... that Morrison delivered for him. Beer in hand, he wanders his way around the garage some, looking at things here and there. He doesn't often come in here what with his not really having a need to. Also, seems more like Nero's spot than his or Vergil's. Something the twins are both fine with really. )

IC Contact (Folkmore)

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