#i only like him a normal amount i sware

[immortalghostkami]

LOOK AT HIM!!! HE'S SO CUTE AND PRECIOUS AND BABY AND SAD AND PRETTY AND AMAZING AND-

[skvaderarts]

Soliloquy Chapter 1: Advent

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Chapter One: Advent

Stepping through the portal that Vergil had cut through the fabric of time and space was perhaps the most disorienting thing that Dante had experienced in his entire life. Well, maybe that was an understatement. Everything about being on Malet Island had been a massive trip into a new dimension of confusion and headaches. But this was a very close second. Everything seemed to go faster than it normally did but, at the same time, things were slow enough to take in and try to comprehend. It was a blur of bright light that fluctuated from blisteringly bright to suffocatingly dark that seemed to transcend time and space itself. And that was probably because it did transcend time and space itself.

Oh, and it was probably the most nauseating experience Dante had gone through in a long time.

As quickly as it had started, it ended. Although experience had taken less than a few seconds, it had felt more like a minute. Dante landed feet first on the cobblestone pavement, his head swaying slightly before he shook it to regain his senses. He stretched before looking around to gain a bearing on his location. Vergil was in the process of standing up and brushing himself off, as he hadn’t landed quite as gracefully as he normally did. Being kicked in the back spartan style through a tear in reality tended to do that to a person.

“Dang it,” Dante scoffed, trying and failing to repress a playful snicker,” I was hoping you’d land on your sword. You know, see what it feels like for yourself for once.”

Vergil straightened his coat and turned around to face Dante. He couldn’t have looked more unamused if he tried to. “Oh, I am very aware of what it feels like, brother.”

Dante shook his head and let out a short laugh. “How’d that happen? You stab yourself with your own sword?!”

Vergil didn’t answer his brother’s rhetorical question. Instead, he opted to just stare at him blankly, his silence saying everything that it needed to given the context of the situation. After a moment Dante slowly stopped laughing and stared back at him, a look somewhere disbelief and confusion crossing his face. “... Wow… um, yea... You need professional help, Vergil. That’s… that’s pretty messed up. You okay?”

In an unflinching display of unamused irritation, Vergil shook his head once. “Absolutely not.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. The alley they stood in was a veritable audio sink. Barely any ambient noise from the nearby road traveled far enough down this dead-end inlet to pierce the uncomfortable silence. Though neither of the twins would ever admit it, they were starting to notice how bad they were at basic conversation with one another. It was actually astounding how quickly almost every conversation they had turned to an unpleasant experience that dwelled on topics neither of them wanted to relive. Dante shifted in discomfort, switching his center of gravity back and forth between his left and right feet. He shook his head and sighed, looking down at the pavement for a moment before looking back up at this troubled brother again. What on earth went through his twin’s mind sometimes. “Seriously Vergil, you okay?”

The eldest Son of Sparda gave his brother a thoughtful look before turning to walk towards the end of the alley. Dante opted to follow him, coming to the conclusion that he had reached his tolerance for genuine progress with his brother today. Vergil didn’t seem to be equipped to deal with continuous emotional conversation, and Dante wasn’t going to try and force him. He’d made it a decent amount of time without finding Yamato embedded in his sternum, and his older twin had shown an unusually high amount of restraint in not putting it there.

The twins stepped out onto the main sidewalk and were greeted by the blinding light of the early morning sun peeking over the rooftops of the adjacent street. A stray car or two passed on either side of the road, contributing to what little noise there was to be heard. Rows of attached business lined the street, some with apartments above them. A few quaint townhouses were squeezed in between the shops; a few planters with thin birch trees sprouting from them lined the sidewalks providing a comfortable amount of shade to pedestrians. The smell of salty water permeated the air as a light breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. It was almost picturesque.

They both stood there quietly for a moment, silently taking in the calm. It was the first time in a long time that they had experienced this kind of quiet serenity. The first time in an immeasurably long time that they had just enjoyed silence the presence of each other’s company. Vergil glanced around the street, taking in the area. Just as he did, the vintage brass streets lights flickered off, their automated timer taking note of the ambient light level. Something seemed to occur to him, causing him to stop and turn to his younger twin. “Where are we then?” He spoke plainly, seemingly trying to change the subject from their previous conversation. Dante decided to chalk it up as a loss for now and simply move on. There would be another time. They had plenty of time.

He glanced up and down the street, taking in their surroundings. This area seemed vaguely familiar to him. He could almost sware that he had been here before, but wasn’t sure how recently or for what purpose. This wasn’t a part of town he spent much time in, but at least he knew what town they were in. “Capulet. Pretty sure this is Capulet.”

Vergil nodded slowly, seeming considering this for a moment. “Which way then?” Dante shrugged obtusely. “Can’t say for sure. I don’t spend much time down by the waterfront. I live further inland from here. You know, where all the crime is.”

Vergil scoffed at the comment, shaking his head. His twin brother really was something else, wasn’t he? Before he could enquire as to possible context clues or landmarks they could use to regain their bearings, Dante stepped forward and looked down the long street towards the right, nodding in confirmation to himself as if he’d figured something out. He casually started to walk in the direction he was facing, gesturing over his shoulder for Vergil to follow him as he headed away from where they had just been. “It’s this way. Now I recognize this place. Had a run-in with an interesting demon on a foggy morning a while back around here. Tried to take my head off with two blades,” He kept a steady pace up the street as Vergil caught up with him in the blink of an eye,” There’s a park up this way. It’s basically the center of town. Once we get there, I can tell where we are.”

With that, the pair walked briskly towards the end of the block, crossing the oversized roundabout that surrounded the square into the park. The lush greenery of the hedges that surrounded the park was bordered by a tall wrought iron fence. Each of the four crosswalks that connected to this central park area was aligned with entry gates for ease of foot traffic flow, so they didn’t have any issues finding a way in. The twins entered the park and followed the path into the central plaza where they both came to a stop for a moment to figure out their current position.

“We need to go this way, Vergil. Vergil?”

Just as Dante was going to question his brother’s silence and explain that they should go north from here towards the upper part of the hillside to reach his office, he stopped. Something had seemingly drawn Vergil’s attention, as he was standing slightly off to the side, only half facing him. Dante allowed his gaze to follow his older brother’s and then stopped once his eyes landed at the object of Vergil’s fascination.

Fuck… How on earth had he forgotten about the statue?

Capulet City was well known in the region for a few unfortunate happenings over the years, a status that had now been totally dwarfed by the calamitous Redgrave City Disaster. While being the resting place of the once again slumbering Temen-ni-gru was nothing to scoff at, and Abigale’s fires had raged for several days after the gargantuan demon had lit the town ablaze during his attack, being a mecca for demonic activity was, while an unattractive trait for a city to possess, a totally different thing entirely from having an entire city literally turned inside out from the tectonic plates up. But, one of the few good things the city was known for was this park and its towering onyx statue of the Dark Knight Sparda astride his dark steed, a horse that, in retrospect, was almost certainly a Geryon. People came from far and wide to take pictures of the monument the city had erected to the dark knight over the now filled in hole where Temen-ni-gru had once emerged from the earth. And in the process of trying to find their way home, Dante had completely forgotten that the stature was here as he had grown so accustomed to seeing it over the years that he didn’t even register it as he passed by it today. To be succinct, there were several things about this park that he had put out of his day to day thoughts, this fine piece of craftsmanship included.

Vergil seemed to be taking a moment to consider it, having not set foot here during or since it’s construction over a decade ago. The art installation’s significance was not lost on the eldest Son of Sparda, nor was it’s geographic location. They could both sense the demonic tower below them, a powerful reminder of the underworld’s never-ending connection to the human world. But then again, nothing about their father was lost on him. Not his legend, not his legacy, and most certainly his bottomless grief at his sudden and unexplained disappearance. They were all things he still carried with him and would never shed; a forthright burdon anchoring him firmly in all things that he did. Vergil shifted his gaze downward and then away from the monolith, quietly dispelling the profound internal battle that he would never win for now.

It was a simple, immutable fact that he still mourned their father’s loss and always would. He just hadn’t dwelled on it in a long while now.

Dante didn’t need to say anything. Interrupting his brother’s train of thought to garner the answer to a question that he already knew the answer too would be utterly pointless and unkind, and this was one silence he was willing to wait out for the sake of its importance. After what felt like a decade, Vergil finally turned back to his brother and joined him at his side, eager to leave this place and his unbridled feelings of grief behind him. He drifted past Dante as he approached, not making eye contact. “... Which way is it then? Or are we still lost?”

The younger twin pointed towards the northwest, taking a mental note of Vergil’s understandably unaccommodating mood. “It’s up there, probably about a mile or so. If we’re lucky, we might make it before one of the girls burns it down in a fit of rage or something.”

Vergil didn’t speak. He simply nodded in silence and followed Dante in the correct direction. Despite the fact that they were just traversing normal human streets, he couldn’t have felt more out of his element if he’s tried. It was the first time in a long time that he’d simply walked somewhere and something hadn’t jumped out and tried to kill him. And he didn’t have the emotion reserves left to contemplate how that made him feel right now.

-~-

The front of the office was surprisingly just as Dante had left it. The doors were still attached for once and the front windows were still intact. The only notable difference was the lack of light coming from the sign out front. It was only then that something occurred to the younger twin: how long had they been gone? It had only felt like a day or two, but unless the sign had shorted out (again) then they had been gone a little longer than he’s originally thought.

“So um Vergil,” Dante started as they approached the front steps,” About how long do you think we were gone?”

Vergil stopped as if to consider the question for a moment. He’d been quiet for about fifteen minutes now, more than likely still lingering on his internal baggage. “That could be rather hard to tell. Much like the human world, time works in zones in the underworld. The time discrepancies are just a bit more… pronounced in some places than they are here. Some parts of the underworld are stagnant and don’t have time at all. Some don’t even have a day and night cycle. And they are all prone to shift under certain circumstances.”

Dante sighed. “So we could have been gone ten minutes or ten years for all we know. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

Vergil shook his head. “Let me clarify. At best, we’ve been gone a few days, at most a few weeks. Volatile as the underworld’s perception of time maybe, I can’t think of a region where time distorts quite that far in the timespan of fewer than three days.”

Dante shrugged as they started up the front steps. “Nothing I can do about it now. But I guess that explains why you kinda look younger than me now, at least.”

Before Vergil could retort, a faint male voice on the other side of the door could be heard. It was unfamiliar to him. The voice was accompanied by the sounds of two other female voices from what his keen sense of hearing could pick up, but he couldn’t discern any of the owners. From what he could make out, the man was saying something about the rent not being free and him having the deed to something. 

Dante smirked and shook his head, snickering under his breath. This was no mystery to him. “Good to see that they are still hanging around.”

Just as Vergil was going to ask what Dante was going on about, the doors to the front of the office burst open, and out came one of three people came out. Vergil was correct in his assumptions of their genders from what he could tell, but the man he didn’t recognize at all. The man stopped dead in his tracks and let out a loud, clearly overjoyed laugh. “Well, I’ll be damn! Where the hell have you been for so long, Dante!”

At the mention of Dante’s name, the two women who were just stepping through the doorway (presumably walking a short distance behind him) raced ahead and stopped dead in their tracks. In unison, both of them shouted Dante’s name, shock, concern, and disbelief heavy in their tone. The trio stepped forward and immediately set upon the youngest Son of Sparda, greeting him happily. The one with the black hair that Vergil now recognized as Arkham’s daughter (though he couldn’t remember her name) Immediately batted at him in frustration. “You crazy bastard! I was starting to think you weren’t coming back!” The well-dressed man in the hat reached up and removed it, clasping it in his hand as he laughed a the scene unfolding in front of him. Dante seemed to be about three seconds shy of catching a bullet from his younger friend. She was clearly less than amused with his leave of absence.

“You’ve been gone for six weeks, Dante,” A familiar voice spoke,” I was just starting to wonder I you were coming back myself...”

Vergil felt a barely contained barrage of complex emotions hit him at the sight of the blond devil. Her presence truly took him off guard in the worst way possible. He wasn’t sure if he was showing his seething rage, and he’s wasn’t entirely sure if he cared at this moment in time either. Though no one had seemingly noticed his presence quite yet as he was standing at the bottom of the stairs and slightly behind his brother. But he recognized her anywhere. How could he forget such an instrumental person from his time on Malet Island?

“What the girls are trying to say is that you have perfect timing because we were just having a little conversation about this,” The older gentleman produced a white envelope from his pocket and returned it to Dante in one elegant movement, still laughing to himself as he did so. 

Dante shook his head and allowed a smirk to cross his face. “You guys are just the worst, ya know that. I mean, I take a vacation for a few weeks and you figure I’m not coming back?” There was a tone of humor to his jest that was immediately lost when he glanced back over his shoulder and recalled the fact that Vergil was still with him. And that he looked undeniably pissed. It wasn’t something that anyone else but him would probably pick up on, but it didn’t slip past him for a second. “Um, Vergil?” Three additional sets of eyes followed Dante to his brother as he said his name, just noticing him for the first time in their excitement. Lady looked shocked, to say the least, Morrison was looking back and forth between the twins in obvious bewilderment and Trish… well, Trish and Vergil were making what was perhaps the most uncomfortable eye contact of their respective lives. Vergil seemed to be looking into her more than he was at her, obviously thinking rather intensely and Trish was returning his stare, albeit with a look of caution akin to the sort that you would give a big cat that looked ready to attack if you approached it in the wild.

It took Dante all of about three milliseconds to figure out what the issue was here and, although he didn’t understand the history behind it, he wasn’t stupid enough to be ignorant of the notion that Trish and Vergil had prior. And he also wasn’t stupid enough to not notice that Vergil was very clearly considering entering devil trigger and ripping her throat out with his bare hands. Dante carefully placed himself just close enough between them that it made further action on either of their ends unfeasible and he shot Vergil a look, clearly asking him what was going on. Trish took the opportunity to step towards the others and give the twins a parting look, silent trepidation evident in her gaze. “... We were just leaving. Let’s have this conversation later.”

Dante wasn’t sure which of them she was actually addressing, but he didn’t get much time to think about it as, as if from nowhere, a loud screech split through the air. Everyone stopped and turned their head in the direction of the van that had just pulled up, missing the stairs and the side of the building by mere centimeters. Dante would’ve laughed at the awful timing if it might not have been the spark that could set everything alight. He heard a car door open and then slam shut on the opposite side of the car and then a familiar face stepped around the front of the car. The white-haired young man stopped dead in his tracks as if he had just been slammed face-first into an invisible brick wall. He stared in evident shock, wide-eyed at the sight before him before taking a decided far left into instantaneous, unbridled rage, his casual demeanor shattering like glass. At that, Dante let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and chuckled to himself under his breath. Nero really was Vergil’s son, wasn’t he? “Hey, Nero…”

The younger white-haired man shot him a look of white-hot seething rage mixed with other emotions he couldn’t quite place, but he knew they were probably bad nonetheless. Oh shit.

“Dante,” Nero shouted at the top of his lungs,” What the fuck is this bullshit?!”

And then he triggered.

… Oh shit...

[draumrfold]

Doomvault: Kiss of Death

We’ve stopped to take a rest, finally. I feel very drained of Ki, after BoBo regained some consciousness he managed to construct an illusion that provided shelter for us, a safe place to rest. I do wish it was a bit more spacious, I would like to try and keep a good amount of distance between myself and these people, as to not further intrude on their kindness. Throughout our rest I could hear Maliadin softly chanting prayers, luckily I was able to block him out and focus on my own balance for my meditation. I also am able to fully sleep and fully recover from having my life force sucked from me. I feel within myself my full strength return. 

When we are finally ready to set off again, BoBo informs us part of his soul is missing. His friends don’t even question what needs to be done, so we all set off to perform a ritual of some kind to restore him. Magic isn’t my strong suit, but the idea of being able to spit a soul is fascinating, just as is how one might put a soul back together. So while I’m not thrilled at the idea of spending more time in this place, I am very intrigued to witness this ritual. 

We used what they are calling a “Black Gate” to get to the chamber they needed to perform the ritual in. Using the gate was a sensation I’ve never experienced before, it wasn’t like when I was shifted in the plane tear, this place has so many secrets to learn. In the chamber, we had to wait while BoBo reverse engineered the ritual when he was done he hopped up on to one of the stone slabs in the massive chamber. He held the scroll out to Talrean who looked less than enthusiastic that the burden had fallen to him, but accepts the scroll. BoBo lays back on the stone and enters a trance state, soon into Talrean’s reading of the scroll we can see BoBo astral projected soul floating above him and slowly it drifts down on to his body and re-merges with his body. 

BoBo slowly opens his eyes, and motions for Talrean to step closer, Ashrah also takes a step closer, when suddenly they both let out gasps and retreat- curing BoBo and his noxious gases. BoBo sits up laughing, and joking, all was once more good it appeared. BoBo I am learning is something of a jokester, which while amusing, there is also a time and a place. I am not sure being stuck in a dungeon after dying and putting one's soul back together is that time or place. 

We continue on to the next area, I have lost track of not only time but also how many chambers and hallways we’ve been through. I merely follow the group, somewhere near the back. It seems Maliadin did not find solace last night as he has gone from leading us to being in the back with me, if not trailing behind us. 

While I trained and studied I never really got into the whole worship thing, perhaps that is why I never truly felt at home in the Temple. I’ve tried prayer and worship, for whatever reason it just doesn't seem to click with me, not the way my studies of death have. Maliadin, in my humble opinion, could greatly benefit from meditation, and inner reflection, as I have found all true inner growth will make you feel uncomfortable, disturbed, or scared for a little while, and that’s ok, the feeling will pass. However Maliadin has seemed to give into fear and pain, he lets death have power over him, rather than embracing and accepting it. As long as he does that, he will never be the mighty warrior he projects to be. 

When we come to face our next enemies Maliadin has fallen so far behind us that I of all people have to lead the charge. I’m uncomfortable with this because I still don’t know the extent of these peoples powers, nor do I know if they will have my back. Trust and loyalty is earned, I recognize I must give them a chance, but I am also cautious about it. 

When we enter the chamber a mage casts a poisonous gas over us, through my training, I have become immune to such things, it would appear my comrades have not, however. I know there is a wall of enemies in front of me, so I take a running start and with all my might I rush into one, knocking it backward and causing a disruption to their wall. I manage to get outside of the gas and unleash a series of blows into the foe in front of me. The other enemies circle around me and I find Ashrah next to me, I assume the others have found their way into the room, blocking a path to safety, I do the only thing I can think of that might give me an advantage in this situation. I start a booming chant in a voice that is deeper than what I should be capable of making, this eerie chant strikes fear into most of the enemies around me, as well as Talrean and Sylvanna. This gives me not only me but all of us an advantage that we’re able to defeat everything and release a Dark Elf. I’ve never seen so many different kinds of elves in one setting before. 

In the next chamber have a similar fight and I see a beast so big and ugly, I’m told that it is an Orc. I don’t think we have Orcs on my plane, I’ve never seen or heard of them before and this one looked very fierce. I am told they are not that intelligent of beings so BoBo came up with a very easy way to communicate to it not to attack us. It went well enough, he looked diseased but wished for no help and he went on his way. 

It also occurs to me that we’ve watched every other being we have rescued (that was friendly) drift off through the white doors, without having to open them. I too was rescued, so I go over to a door and cautiously step through the door to the other side, astonished, I step back through. Cursing all the elven sware words I know in dismay. Why does this stuff keep happening to me? First plane shifting now I can walk through doors. Ashrah says she can’t sense any curses, and I can feel my Ki and lifeforce, nothing seems out of place. I then purpose that this would mean I am able to traverse anywhere in the dungeon, which means I could take us right to the phylactery chamber, and save us all some time and energy. Unfortunately, the others explain to me why that wouldn’t work, and I’m a bit disappointed that this weird power cannot be of more use. 

In the final chamber that had a Shrine of binding in it, and after the fighting, we see the creature has become a zombie and put it out of its misery. We also take a short rest here, where BoBo tries to tell me jokes. I don’t really find them amusing, but I appreciate the effort. We (BoBo, Talrean, Sylvanna, and I) end up having a really odd conversation about Humans, then Tea, or rather the lack of tea, and finally the subject of pets, which I actually felt comfortable enough to introduce them to Sly- I really need to find some proper cheese for her, doubt this will be the place for that though- they are all rather astonished I keep a mouse in my pocket. It can’t be that strange. Perhaps pets aren’t as widely accepted on this plane. I’m kinda surprised she was able to plane swap with me as well as she has. I haven’t observed any difference in her behavior. BoBo, upon learning I have a pet, offers me a ring of Animal Influence so I might communicate with Sly. While part of me would love to accept such an amazing gift as to further my research, another, stronger part of me feels it is not practical for me to have such a thing, and I politely decline the ring, at least for now. Maybe I will barrow it later when I have time to record and properly interview Sly, I’ll have to think about it. 

After the conversation and our short rest, I do feel more at peace and in balance with these people. As though our Ki are aligning. Something I never really felt with Maelin and Aura. Perhaps another sign this is the plane I am truly meant to be on, or at least these are people I was meant to meet. Off of one of the last monsters we defeated we find some Bracers of Defense that the group says I can have, I am humbled they would allow me to have anything we find here. 

We continue on through the chambers, and face down more mages, zombies, and yetis, it's very tiring work if I’m honest, but we’ve rested enough that I am able to keep my Ki up, also Maliadin has decided he’s done moping and has caught back up with and is fighting as normal now. I am very glad the pressure is off of me to lead us into battle. I did fine, admittedly, but moving forward it’s probably best for either Galadin or Maliadin to lead us. 

We enter the phylactery chamber, finally, this is what everyone has said is our goal. I am very happy to finally be here. There is no immediate danger from what we see, and start work on entering the small temples, after we get the first one open, we see BoBo be flung out of the temple and into a large pit of a tar-like substance. Which is of course home to monsters, a giant eye emerges from the tar pit after we’ve pulled BoBo out, and unleashes this incredibly painful sound that knocks me unconscious. 

While I lay there unconscious I feel life and death all around me, the flow of Ki in perfect balance, with my mind I reach out and touch the life flow and feel breath come back to my body and my eyes open. I pull myself up with help from my quarterstaff. “Well, that’s fascinating,” I think to myself. 

While I studied the Way of the Long Death I remember reading a story from what I thought at the time was a wack a loon monk who claimed he had mastered death it’s self and was able to feel life forces and the Ki that flowed not only within himself but within others as well. My master thought this guy was really onto something, and so together we would meditate feeling the Ki within us, sensing our life forces and life forces of others but never being able to feel death or to be able to manipulate the Ki of others. This is the first time I’ve been able to sense death, truly feel its power, and the true power of life. The flow of Ki is reinvigorating. I guess that monk wasn’t as crazy as I thought. I will have to review the notes I made on his work later. If only there was a way to let my master know the progress I have made. He would be so excited, I hope one day to at least be able to send a message to him. 

The creature continues to knock me unconscious, and I continue to harness the power of death and I end up running weird circles around the temple, that Talrean has decided to perch on. Weird ass elf. I sprint in, punch and attack, and run back to safety because by this time I’m just assuming I’m going to be knocked out. The next time I awaken it’s to Ashra shoving a health potion into my mouth. I mumble that if she had just waited a moment I would have come to on my own. She shrugs and helps me to my feet. We clear out the rest of the floors of the phylactery chamber without any problems. 

Upon finishing our work a vision appears before us, a crackling human, who is just talking crazy, he opens a portal and pushes us all through. While we are going through the portal I hear from somewhere beside me Talrean cursing him for not rewarding us properly. What an odd time to be concerned with such things. This also means I’ve been plane shifted, yet again. I doubt it to home. I will just have to wait and see where we land.