Then why can't you just say that? What's with the secret agent routine all the time? God damn!
[He tosses down his comic book with a thump and stands up.]
You know if this was the other way around you'd be freaking out, if I got hurt and tried to lie about it. Why don't you just talk to me like I'm an adult who can handle shit?
( For a long moment, he just stands there in silence — arms at his sides — and stares at the kid. After a handful of seconds, he smiles then, though it's extremely faint. )
He paces out from behind the couch and steps out to give Dante the what-for. (Sorry, Dante, he clearly worked himself up in the time it took you to get here.)]
ALL you had to say was, "Hey Nero, I got a little banged up fighting swamp creatures, is the shower open?" Or like- "wowee I got a lot of monster blood on me, I need a bath!" Of course I'm gonna think it's way worse when you try to hide it!
Except you try to hide it when it's worse, too! Like- come the fuck on, Dante!
( Yeah. Definitely takes after Vergil, even if Vergil might not always be able to see it when it comes to the being dramatic part. But he stands there — lets Nero say what he needs to say and lifts a hand then... only to put it back down because... gross. Don't want to get blood all over the kid's shoulder. )
It's just not that big a deal to me. So I don't think to really go into it.
That's because you don't take goddamn care of yourself!
[Nero storms over and grabs Dante's nasty, blood-streaked coat, tugging on it to indicate he should take it off. You're not trailing through the rest of the house in that nasty thing, buddy.]
I'm not freaking out on you because I'm a nag or a scold or whatever. I know you're a big boy and you can handle yourself. But shit, Dante, you shouldn't be so careless! We worry about you, and the last thing we want is you to seriously fuck yourself up because it's "not that big a deal!"
( The tug gets him to take a step back before he realizes what it is Nero's trying to insinuate there. Tilt of his head, he gives a huff with a shake of his head and goes about shrugging the coat off. One of his few red ones he's managed to get around here. )
Who says I'm careless? You know how many things have tried to kill me over the years? It's like you forget who you're talkin' to.
It's careless to get hurt and try to pretend you didn't and not say anything to anyone! Do I need to remind you of the freakin' eel thing?
[Guess who reminded him of THAT, Unky?]
Like. Look. I know you can heal and it's usually fine, but what if it wasn't? Dad and Trish and I would just be in the total dark. And what if something happened to you?
[He folds up the nasty coat, doing his best to get the blood and moisture inside and not dripping all over the floor.]
You know, I'd chill out about this and worry less if you would just be honest and quit trying to hide shit from me all the time?
( While Nero worries about the coat, he slowly slides his holsters off, beloved Ebony and Ivory safely tucked where they're supposed to be. Dangling on a finger, he looks around with where to put them and just... decides to drape them over the back of a chair. That'll do. Looking back to Nero then, he stares at the kid and then just sighs.
He knows he does it — always has since everything went to shit. Nero's a kid— his nephew that he's tried to keep safe the best he could while maintaining the distance that he has. Not because he doesn't care. But because he does and he's family and he'd rather not fail the kid like he did his old man without being able to save him. Heh. Unresolved issues he still struggles with in private. But sometimes the kid is just too. damn. stubborn. and ends up even pushing Legendary Devil Hunter Dante to his limit. That's not it, Nero. He can still feel the anger there on his tongue when he'd snapped at the kid. Felt bad about it, but. Damn. If anything had happened to him... if Vergil had done anything to him without realizing who Nero was at the time and Dante was the one who had to live with that...
Even now. He tries to keep them safe. In his unhealthy but effective[??] way. )
Nothing's gonna happen to me, kid. I'm right here.
Says the guy who spent a month in a fucking ditch, unconscious!
[And came home with a worm in his shoulder that one time, that too.
His irritation with Dante's constant masking is boiling over into his own insecurities and fears, worries about his inability to protect those who are important to him. He can't protect Dante if the moron is out getting his ass beat and then lying about it.
He takes the jacket over to the kitchen, thinking he'll rinse it in the sink. Then he thinks better of it, and ends up hovering there with it in his hands.]
Just stay on topic, will you? Why can't you ever just tell me the truth? I'm not a little kid who needs to be shielded from everything. I'm basically your partner, aren't I?
I wouldn't get so pissed or worried if I trusted you to just-- tell me things!
( For a second he opens his mouth to say something regarding Trish maybe having a thing or two to say about the partner comment there, but. He refrains. Doesn't seem like the time. So, instead, he scoffs lightly under his breath — shake of his head to come and he drags his teeth over his bottom lip while he stares off across the floor. Yeah. Nero's really like his old man in the sense that he can always tell when he's starting to push a little too hard or be a little too flippant.
Looking down at the soaking mess he is, he huffs and starts to unbuckle his belt. )
I don't know if you know this about me and your old man, but we don't really do the whole talking thing much. I mean, Hell. I try to sometimes. But then one of us goes and shuts the other down before we can really get to saying what we want to say to the other and on and on and on it goes.
( Belt off, he drapes it there with the ladies, looking back to Nero. )
I was upset and angry so I went and took it out on a bunch of swamp creatures to get it out of my system. Gee, uncle Dante, why were you so upset and angry? Well, Nero, maybe because I don't like people thinking badly of my brother despite the stupid shit he does. Maybe I don't like having to wrangle with both being pissed at and missing my own old man. Maybe I don't like the fact that despite the many years I've been at this and a lot of the time, not by choice, I still can't always control the demonic part of me and I get scared I'm going to hurt someone like you or some rando in this place.
( Arms stretched open, he smiles, though he's strained. )
Nero isn't quite expecting the flurry of words he gets out of Dante, but he listens to them all the same, albeit with a few shifts in his expression and some surprised blinking. It's a lot to take in at once, and some of it is surprising to hear. Some of it isn't, at all. Gee Unc, you mean you and Vergil fucking suck at talking about stuff and misunderstand each other all the time? No shit! Still, he imagines the intention is to dump so much that Nero regrets asking, or hearing about it.
Which isn't the case, at all.
He looks at Dante's big, fakey smile and open arms and briefly purses his lips, thoughtful. Then he sets the balled-up, filthy coat down on the counter (he'll clean it off later) and takes a few steps closer to him.]
That's a hell of a lot to try and keep to yourself all the time.
[Nero puts out his own arms, sort of a shrug, sort of a "I come in peace," sort of a... not-quite developed "can I offer a hug" sort of gesture.]
Look. I'm gonna sound fuckin' hokey, but... You don't have to deal with all that alone. Maybe I can't solve anything for you but... talking does help, you know? We're family. Even if you just need me to listen and keep my mouth shut, I want to.
He waits for him to pack it up and move on — to be all whatever about it and go handle his bloody wet coat there he'd decided to take for himself. Instead, the kid comes over and he stands there. Right in front of him. Arms out at his sides like they are. He eyes them — eyes Nero there for a second before he lifts his gaze more up to his face and listens to what he has to say.
While he doesn't necessarily mean to, he can't help the scoff that leaves him. It's more tired than anything else and he just shakes his head — stares off across the room with teeth dragging over his bottom lip again. He recalls someone here telling him about how much of a disservice it is both to himself and to his family here to keep them at arms length like he does, especially with the things that bother him. Someone's gotta protect them, he'd said, and he wondered, in that moment, if that's how his old man felt when walking away from his family. The whole having to do things you don't really want to because it's a way to keep them safe. Except things still went to shit and that's always a worry of his, too. Guess he picked that up from Sparda without even realizing it.
After a moment, he sighs — looks down to the ground. )
Yeah. We're family. A dysfunctional one still to this day.
[He doesn't think he's talking to a wall here. Dante pretends to be blase and above it all all the time, but just like Vergil, he does listen when Nero talks. He's heard his own words echoed back at him in Dante's voice plenty of times-- or at least, heard the man admit something close enough to something Nero once insisted... look. Even if he can't take credit for it, he can at least know that it's not completely pointless speaking from the heart to Dante.]
Look. We're all here together under one roof. Your partner is a nice demon who keeps raiding our fridge. You and Vergil stopped trying to kill each other. And I'm calling the guy who ripped my fucking arm off "Dad." We've all changed from how it used to be. We've gotten better, together.
[Nero takes another step, carefully, and reaches up to put his hand on Dante's bicep, kind of a cross between a brotherly slap and a gentle squeeze.]
Like, don't get me wrong, we're always gonna be a bunch of weirdos. That's just who we are as a family. But things don't have to stay fucked up just because they got that way once. We can work together and make things better. That's what families are supposed to do, right? They support each other and help each other grow.
[Yes he is aware he sounds like some kind of lame after school special. So you KNOW he must believe this, hard, if he's willing to put his own words to such a sentiment.]
( In the years he's known Nero, family's always been important to him. That much he knows for certain. So, in a way, it's unfair to deny the kid the very thing he's wanted for years. Granted, it's not as if he denies who he is to the kid... after revealing they're family, anyways. The years before that, well. He had his reasons, ones he's already told to the kid. Now, though. Hm.
Gaze drifting over to the hand there on his arm, blue eyes lift then to meet Nero's face there and he's just... quiet... in a way where it's more he's not entirely sure what to say rather than keeping this and that to himself. After a moment, he ducks his head. )
[It's about what he expects. He doesn't really expect to hear anything in particular from Dante. Not his style to talk, as he said. So Nero swallows down any frustration he may feel about it and gives his uncle a brief, emotional look.
Before he drops his hand away and swaps over to a more comfortable sass.]
Yeah, you do. You reek like pond scum.
[He smirks and backs off, gesturing back to the dirty coat he left on the countertop.] You want me to throw anything else in the wash?
( He's not really wanting to throw his laundry at his nephew, but. Well. One look down at himself and... everything sort of needs to be washed. So, looking back up, he gives the kid a bit of a sheepish smile. )
( Wave of his hand, he makes his way for the bathroom to strip and clean himself up because... yeah. That's definitely a thing that needs to be done.
The moment the door's closed behind him, he takes a second or two to lean against it and just... sighs. Fingers pinch the bridge of his nose — eyes squeezing shut and he allows himself a couple deep breaths before he's pushing himself off the door and slowly starting to undress himself. Like he'd said, he leaves the pile of clothes there outside the bathroom door for the kid, still a little unsure about him taking care of his laundry, but. It is what it is and he needs to clean himself off, so. It's into the shower he goes once the water's on and the right temperature for him.
He takes a bit of time in there — makes sure to wash off all the blood and everything else he'd missed in his random dive into the nearest body of water before he'd made his way back home. When he feels like he's good enough, he steps out, grabs himself a towel, and starts to pat himself dry. In doing so, he catches a glimpse of himself there in the foggy mirror, but. The blurred reflection isn't exactly him. It's his other form. The devil within him. He stares at it — what he can anyways through the condensation there across the mirror, but. He sees it and, rather than completely ignore it as he tends to do, he huffs, wrapping the towel around his waist. )
Always gonna be a little dysfunctional, right?
( Said to the demonic reflection there in the mirror, he stares for a beat or two longer before he's making his way out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel and heading for his room to grab a pair of sweats to slip into. Once those are on, he wanders throughout the house in search of the kid, towel in hand and shirtless. Just like when he was a kid himself. )
[Nero is in the laundry area. The washing machine is already churning with Dante's clothes in it, plus whatever he found lying around to make a full load. (Whites and colors separated, he's a good boy.) Meanwhile, he's in the middle of using the utility sink and a rag to wipe off Dante's coat, since leather can't go in the machine.
He glances back over his shoulder when he hears Dante approaching.]
Well, you sure smell better.
[Nero shuts off the sink and plops the coat on top of the dryer to dab it fully dry.]
Your coat smells better too. Whatever you were killing, its blood stinks like ass.
( Smile faint on his lips, he leans himself there against the entryway of the laundry room, arms crossing some in front of his chest, quiet as he mulls over something. )
I’ve got a lot of mixed feelings about my old man.
( He says, finally, gaze distant before he goes and ducks his head some. )
I’m sure your old man would assume I just hate our father and want nothing to do with him because, well. When we were younger after mom died and everything, yeah. I kinda did hold a grudge against him.
( Dante in his youth was sure A Time. Even more frustrating than he is now. )
But I don’t hate him. I’m angry he wasn’t there to protect us. Some part of me always will be. But I still miss him sometimes, too. He was… my old man. Sure he could be intimidating when he’d raise his voice, but it’s not like all my memories are bad ones. I just wish your old man would let me say as much, instead of just assume I’m going to shit talk him like I’m eighteen again.
[Yeah, look! See?! Dante does listen, it just takes him a sec sometimes!
Nero turns around to face him, remaining quiet, listening intently. It wasn't exactly news to him that Dante and Vergil have differing opinions on the man who was Sparda. All it took was one time of asking them each about him to learn that difference. Vergil has nothing but praise for their father. Dante... his feelings have obviously been more mixed. And he gathers this has been a source of much contention between them in the past. Vergil has even remarked on what he believes Dante would want to say about Sparda.
He makes a crooked little tilt of a smirk, and nods.] Hey. I can understand having difficult feelings about your father, now. [He couldn't have said that even just a few months ago.
But anyway, they're not talking about Nero here. He just figured he'd offer a little empathy there.]
I don't want to tell you how you should talk to your own brother. But I've had better luck with him when I have to tell him difficult things, if I ask him to listen. To wait until I'm finished before he jumps to a conclusion, you know?
I think it's easy for us all to hear what we think we're hearing, and take it really personally. Especially him. [Yeah also Nero. He can admit that.]
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Any of it yours? Did you get hurt?
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Maybe I like a bit of pain.
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Will you just answer a fucking question? That's not what I asked.
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You know we always heal up. I told you I'm fine. Been doin' this a lot longer than you, kid.
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[He tosses down his comic book with a thump and stands up.]
You know if this was the other way around you'd be freaking out, if I got hurt and tried to lie about it. Why don't you just talk to me like I'm an adult who can handle shit?
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You really are your father's son.
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[But boy, he sure is, isn't he?
He paces out from behind the couch and steps out to give Dante the what-for. (Sorry, Dante, he clearly worked himself up in the time it took you to get here.)]
ALL you had to say was, "Hey Nero, I got a little banged up fighting swamp creatures, is the shower open?" Or like- "wowee I got a lot of monster blood on me, I need a bath!" Of course I'm gonna think it's way worse when you try to hide it!
Except you try to hide it when it's worse, too! Like- come the fuck on, Dante!
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It's just not that big a deal to me. So I don't think to really go into it.
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[Nero storms over and grabs Dante's nasty, blood-streaked coat, tugging on it to indicate he should take it off. You're not trailing through the rest of the house in that nasty thing, buddy.]
I'm not freaking out on you because I'm a nag or a scold or whatever. I know you're a big boy and you can handle yourself. But shit, Dante, you shouldn't be so careless! We worry about you, and the last thing we want is you to seriously fuck yourself up because it's "not that big a deal!"
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Who says I'm careless? You know how many things have tried to kill me over the years? It's like you forget who you're talkin' to.
( The Legendary Devil Hunter Dante. )
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[Guess who reminded him of THAT, Unky?]
Like. Look. I know you can heal and it's usually fine, but what if it wasn't? Dad and Trish and I would just be in the total dark. And what if something happened to you?
[He folds up the nasty coat, doing his best to get the blood and moisture inside and not dripping all over the floor.]
You know, I'd chill out about this and worry less if you would just be honest and quit trying to hide shit from me all the time?
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He knows he does it — always has since everything went to shit. Nero's a kid— his nephew that he's tried to keep safe the best he could while maintaining the distance that he has. Not because he doesn't care. But because he does and he's family and he'd rather not fail the kid like he did his old man without being able to save him. Heh. Unresolved issues he still struggles with in private. But sometimes the kid is just too. damn. stubborn. and ends up even pushing Legendary Devil Hunter Dante to his limit. That's not it, Nero. He can still feel the anger there on his tongue when he'd snapped at the kid. Felt bad about it, but. Damn. If anything had happened to him... if Vergil had done anything to him without realizing who Nero was at the time and Dante was the one who had to live with that...
Even now. He tries to keep them safe. In his unhealthy but effective[??] way. )
Nothing's gonna happen to me, kid. I'm right here.
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[And came home with a worm in his shoulder that one time, that too.
His irritation with Dante's constant masking is boiling over into his own insecurities and fears, worries about his inability to protect those who are important to him. He can't protect Dante if the moron is out getting his ass beat and then lying about it.
He takes the jacket over to the kitchen, thinking he'll rinse it in the sink. Then he thinks better of it, and ends up hovering there with it in his hands.]
Just stay on topic, will you? Why can't you ever just tell me the truth? I'm not a little kid who needs to be shielded from everything. I'm basically your partner, aren't I?
I wouldn't get so pissed or worried if I trusted you to just-- tell me things!
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Looking down at the soaking mess he is, he huffs and starts to unbuckle his belt. )
I don't know if you know this about me and your old man, but we don't really do the whole talking thing much. I mean, Hell. I try to sometimes. But then one of us goes and shuts the other down before we can really get to saying what we want to say to the other and on and on and on it goes.
( Belt off, he drapes it there with the ladies, looking back to Nero. )
I was upset and angry so I went and took it out on a bunch of swamp creatures to get it out of my system. Gee, uncle Dante, why were you so upset and angry? Well, Nero, maybe because I don't like people thinking badly of my brother despite the stupid shit he does. Maybe I don't like having to wrangle with both being pissed at and missing my own old man. Maybe I don't like the fact that despite the many years I've been at this and a lot of the time, not by choice, I still can't always control the demonic part of me and I get scared I'm going to hurt someone like you or some rando in this place.
( Arms stretched open, he smiles, though he's strained. )
That good enough for you?
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Nero isn't quite expecting the flurry of words he gets out of Dante, but he listens to them all the same, albeit with a few shifts in his expression and some surprised blinking. It's a lot to take in at once, and some of it is surprising to hear. Some of it isn't, at all. Gee Unc, you mean you and Vergil fucking suck at talking about stuff and misunderstand each other all the time? No shit! Still, he imagines the intention is to dump so much that Nero regrets asking, or hearing about it.
Which isn't the case, at all.
He looks at Dante's big, fakey smile and open arms and briefly purses his lips, thoughtful. Then he sets the balled-up, filthy coat down on the counter (he'll clean it off later) and takes a few steps closer to him.]
That's a hell of a lot to try and keep to yourself all the time.
[Nero puts out his own arms, sort of a shrug, sort of a "I come in peace," sort of a... not-quite developed "can I offer a hug" sort of gesture.]
Look. I'm gonna sound fuckin' hokey, but... You don't have to deal with all that alone. Maybe I can't solve anything for you but... talking does help, you know? We're family. Even if you just need me to listen and keep my mouth shut, I want to.
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He waits for him to pack it up and move on — to be all whatever about it and go handle his bloody wet coat there he'd decided to take for himself. Instead, the kid comes over and he stands there. Right in front of him. Arms out at his sides like they are. He eyes them — eyes Nero there for a second before he lifts his gaze more up to his face and listens to what he has to say.
While he doesn't necessarily mean to, he can't help the scoff that leaves him. It's more tired than anything else and he just shakes his head — stares off across the room with teeth dragging over his bottom lip again. He recalls someone here telling him about how much of a disservice it is both to himself and to his family here to keep them at arms length like he does, especially with the things that bother him. Someone's gotta protect them, he'd said, and he wondered, in that moment, if that's how his old man felt when walking away from his family. The whole having to do things you don't really want to because it's a way to keep them safe. Except things still went to shit and that's always a worry of his, too. Guess he picked that up from Sparda without even realizing it.
After a moment, he sighs — looks down to the ground. )
Yeah. We're family. A dysfunctional one still to this day.
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[He doesn't think he's talking to a wall here. Dante pretends to be blase and above it all all the time, but just like Vergil, he does listen when Nero talks. He's heard his own words echoed back at him in Dante's voice plenty of times-- or at least, heard the man admit something close enough to something Nero once insisted... look. Even if he can't take credit for it, he can at least know that it's not completely pointless speaking from the heart to Dante.]
Look. We're all here together under one roof. Your partner is a nice demon who keeps raiding our fridge. You and Vergil stopped trying to kill each other. And I'm calling the guy who ripped my fucking arm off "Dad." We've all changed from how it used to be. We've gotten better, together.
[Nero takes another step, carefully, and reaches up to put his hand on Dante's bicep, kind of a cross between a brotherly slap and a gentle squeeze.]
Like, don't get me wrong, we're always gonna be a bunch of weirdos. That's just who we are as a family. But things don't have to stay fucked up just because they got that way once. We can work together and make things better. That's what families are supposed to do, right? They support each other and help each other grow.
[Yes he is aware he sounds like some kind of lame after school special. So you KNOW he must believe this, hard, if he's willing to put his own words to such a sentiment.]
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Gaze drifting over to the hand there on his arm, blue eyes lift then to meet Nero's face there and he's just... quiet... in a way where it's more he's not entirely sure what to say rather than keeping this and that to himself. After a moment, he ducks his head. )
I really need to shower.
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Before he drops his hand away and swaps over to a more comfortable sass.]
Yeah, you do. You reek like pond scum.
[He smirks and backs off, gesturing back to the dirty coat he left on the countertop.] You want me to throw anything else in the wash?
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I'll leave it outside the bathroom.
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Nero smiles back, nodding.]
Just put on a towel before you come out parading your clean ass around the house, okay?
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The moment the door's closed behind him, he takes a second or two to lean against it and just... sighs. Fingers pinch the bridge of his nose — eyes squeezing shut and he allows himself a couple deep breaths before he's pushing himself off the door and slowly starting to undress himself. Like he'd said, he leaves the pile of clothes there outside the bathroom door for the kid, still a little unsure about him taking care of his laundry, but. It is what it is and he needs to clean himself off, so. It's into the shower he goes once the water's on and the right temperature for him.
He takes a bit of time in there — makes sure to wash off all the blood and everything else he'd missed in his random dive into the nearest body of water before he'd made his way back home. When he feels like he's good enough, he steps out, grabs himself a towel, and starts to pat himself dry. In doing so, he catches a glimpse of himself there in the foggy mirror, but. The blurred reflection isn't exactly him. It's his other form. The devil within him. He stares at it — what he can anyways through the condensation there across the mirror, but. He sees it and, rather than completely ignore it as he tends to do, he huffs, wrapping the towel around his waist. )
Always gonna be a little dysfunctional, right?
( Said to the demonic reflection there in the mirror, he stares for a beat or two longer before he's making his way out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel and heading for his room to grab a pair of sweats to slip into. Once those are on, he wanders throughout the house in search of the kid, towel in hand and shirtless. Just like when he was a kid himself. )
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He glances back over his shoulder when he hears Dante approaching.]
Well, you sure smell better.
[Nero shuts off the sink and plops the coat on top of the dryer to dab it fully dry.]
Your coat smells better too. Whatever you were killing, its blood stinks like ass.
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I’ve got a lot of mixed feelings about my old man.
( He says, finally, gaze distant before he goes and ducks his head some. )
I’m sure your old man would assume I just hate our father and want nothing to do with him because, well. When we were younger after mom died and everything, yeah. I kinda did hold a grudge against him.
( Dante in his youth was sure A Time. Even more frustrating than he is now. )
But I don’t hate him. I’m angry he wasn’t there to protect us. Some part of me always will be. But I still miss him sometimes, too. He was… my old man. Sure he could be intimidating when he’d raise his voice, but it’s not like all my memories are bad ones. I just wish your old man would let me say as much, instead of just assume I’m going to shit talk him like I’m eighteen again.
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Nero turns around to face him, remaining quiet, listening intently. It wasn't exactly news to him that Dante and Vergil have differing opinions on the man who was Sparda. All it took was one time of asking them each about him to learn that difference. Vergil has nothing but praise for their father. Dante... his feelings have obviously been more mixed. And he gathers this has been a source of much contention between them in the past. Vergil has even remarked on what he believes Dante would want to say about Sparda.
He makes a crooked little tilt of a smirk, and nods.] Hey. I can understand having difficult feelings about your father, now. [He couldn't have said that even just a few months ago.
But anyway, they're not talking about Nero here. He just figured he'd offer a little empathy there.]
I don't want to tell you how you should talk to your own brother. But I've had better luck with him when I have to tell him difficult things, if I ask him to listen. To wait until I'm finished before he jumps to a conclusion, you know?
I think it's easy for us all to hear what we think we're hearing, and take it really personally. Especially him. [Yeah also Nero. He can admit that.]
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