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[forceedge]

Who: Sparda (forceedge) and Vergil (twins_right)
What: It's like a big family reunion here at good ol' FU.
When: I'm guessing after Dante and Vergil have their chat in that cheesy cafe.
Where: Sparda...Excuse me, Antonio's office.
Warnings: There's honestly no telling. Sparda wants to see his boy, but seeing as how he's been AWOL for decades, there'll probably

Comments

[twins_right]

Most people would have thought better about posting open threats towards students or the dean on a school's message boards. And, if they'd been planning on carrying any of them out, they might have tried to be surreptitious about it

[forceedge]

And here Sparda had been expecting much more flailing and shouting and the like. It wasn't disappointing, no, but it wasn't what he'd been waiting for

[twins_right]

There really shouldn't have been anything familiar about the man in front of Vergil. Sparda had left when he and Dante were still too young to remember much of anything about him as he'd been then, and frankly, it had been so long that even if Vergil had perfectly remembered his father, Sparda as he was now should have born no resemblance to those memories. But something in Vergil - and he couldn't possibly say what - recognized him. It wasn't even simply the family resemblance; even the voice went into his head and flipped all the right switches, switches that hadn't seen use since he'd been about five.

It's a trick.The thought came to his mind unbidden, but he immediately latched onto it as his last logical refuge in a situation that flew directly in the face of all logic. And, the more he thought about it, as his mind ground itself back into motion, the more sense it made. If that girl had been trying to manipulate Dante with mentions of their family...it seemed that Dante wasn't the only one they were after, in the end

[forceedge]

And Sparda simply...Cocked his head to one side. He'd been expecting this, really. He had, but it didn't make it pang any less. It was also sad, to see it. To see the distrust, and the absolute denial, no matter how he'd prepared for it.

"Vergil." It was said calmly, rationally, as he dropped his hands to his side, still watching the other closely. "I admit I more than likely went about this the wrong way, but pretending?" He spread his hands wide, opening himself completely, and very much on purpose. "Hell hasn't gotten that good yet, I'm afraid."

"I'm afraid, Vergil, there is no imagined threat to you. Or to Dante. Not here, at any rate. Question all you want, but remember who gave you the blade you plan to kill with."