You couldn’t blame Vergil for trying to act like the person that he is. His other brother did whatever the hell he wanted, on his time, on his turf, on his own. They were twins, and most people think that twins think alike and they love each other, but this was, insanely, the complete opposite. Dante liked Red, Vergil preferred Blue. Dante admired pizza, whilst Vergil hardly ate at all. But the biggest difference there was: Dante was carefree, and, his dear brother, Vergil, was a psychopath, thirsting for power.

And we all know how desperate Vergil wants power. He would be willing to do anything for it. Dante never gave a shit about it. He would just eat his slice of pepperoni pizza and move on.

~*~

“Devil May Cry.” Dante answered, twirling the hilt of his father’s sword, Force Edge while sitting in his chair. He tilted his head toward the burnished wood ceiling of his little bar and home, giving short replies to people on the phone.

“I told you already, I’m not trying to promote hell. But, since you called, I’ll leave you with a suggestion to go there.”

He slammed the phone mercilessly back into its old, fading black receiver and sighed. “This little shabby town is so damn annoying. They take everything as a fucking offense.” Dante growled. He grabbed onto Force Edge as a support to get him out of his chair. “Can’t be helped.”

The closet opened just enough for Dante to put his arm inside and randomly choose one of his red trademark coats. His bit his lip as he produced a hanger with his regular coat: A tailored red leather coat with many pockets and one light brown cloth strip in the middle. He slipped it on his half-naked body and stretched.

“Well, maybe I should go bug Lady for a bit. Hope she doesn’t shoot me in the head again, though.”

Dante scratched his silver-haired head and proceeded to out, holding Sparda’s sword in his hand.

Suddenly, the door of his joint suddenly collapsed into perfect cut pieces. The “shing” of a bladed weapon polluted Dante’s ears as the sound gradually went away and was now replaced by a “chkkkk”.

“Heya, Cinderella.”

From the debris came a familiar figure, a tall, skinny man with a royal-blue, velvet coat, lined with the most brilliant gold fabric. His hair was silver and slicked back, almost unruly, opposite or somewhat similar to his personality. He held a Katana in its sheath in his hand.
“Your insults do nothing.” The man answered.

This man, was Vergil.

“And I want that sword now!”

Vergil produced his sword almost at superhuman speed and flung at Dante. His brother gave a sigh as he moved away from Vergil’s thrust and whacked him in the skull with Force Edge.

“Hey, hey, hey, No need for fighting. Why don’t we grab a cup of coffee? Better yet, another box of pizza. It’s the be---”

Vergil continued his flurry of blows as Dante dodged them all without problem or hesitation. Finally, with a sigh, Dante grabbed Vergil’s sword, Yamato, and, with little force but slight blood loss, he flung it away, not only making Vergil weaponless, but also sending him flying to the ground, whamming into Dante’s work desk. The blue-coated brother gasped as he looked at his brother’s eyes in shock.

“You KNOW what I am going to do next if you try to get your sword, right?”

Dante pointed Force Edge at Vergil’s throat as he slowly got up and stood there, almost motionless.

“Hey, you’re my brother. Maybe we can work something out, maybe involving Daddy’s sword?”

Vergil blinked as Dante backed his brother into the wall. “You want power, I need good publicity. We give and take. You got something I could use and I got something you could need.”

Dante slowly brought down the sword. Vergil’s shoulders relaxed just a little as he folded his arms. “Is this a joke? Because if it is, it’s the worst I’ve ever heard.” His other demonic brother gave a snicker. “It isn’t. I’m being completely honest with you.” It was Vergil’s time to scratch his head. “I need that sword.” Vergil repeated like a little kid.

“I know you do. Sit down.”

Vergil took a seat on Dante’s small chair. He crossed his legs and narrowed his eyes.

“So, what do YOU possibly want from me?”

Dante gave a cheshire cat grin as he put his hands on his crooked desk. His expression was almost laughable. His cheeks were rosy, his grin was hilarious and his eyes sparkled. He was the one being a little kid.

“Well now, my Blue Carebear, my little joint I set up here hasn’t been doing well. In fact, it hasn’t been doing well at all: People keep thinking this is a place to worship Devils, you know, that Satanic stuff.”

Vergil rolled his eyes. “What do you expect?” he snarled. “You called it ‘Devil May Cry’. Of course people are going to get the wrong idea, princess.”

Dante waved his hands as to disregard that comment. “Anyways, I need publicity to those who don’t know this place and GOOD marketing. I haven’t found a way to come across that though, but I thought, ‘Hey, if my stupid brother who somehow got out of the demon world could help me with this bar, then maybe we might make some good bucks!’ And then, coincidentally, you show up.”

Vergil sighed most heavily. He glanced at Force Edge, Sparda’s Sword, his own father’s sword in Dante’s hands. The blade taunted him with a brilliant glare. He looked at Dante, gave a frown, then one last sigh.

“So, all I have to do…is help…you…make your…place successful?” Vergil questioned.

“Yeah. And once it’s, well, full-up for at least two weeks, then you get your sword. On account you do not destroy the Earth for 5 years. I kinda like it here, and I might as well enjoy my stay without having to fight any more lame-ass, zero IQ demons.”

Vergil laughed as he put his hand under his chin.

He nodded to Dante with a grunt as he said these words, which he will soon regret saying:

“We have a deal.”

“Think of it as brother bonding time.” Dante randomly blurted, laughing.

“Very funny.” Vergil said, rubbing his eyes.