CARVED IN RUIN

@extremepath​

                         ❛    You   look   as   if   you   wanted   to   say   something    .    ❜        𝐡𝐞  𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬  𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 ,  𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞  𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞  𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬  𝐡𝐢𝐦 .       He   lingers   in   the   back   of   his   mind   all   too   often   ,      watching   KNOWINGLY    &   drinking   in   every   action   he   takes   ,    every   t h o u g h t   that   flits   through   his   mind   .      The   mere   thought   of   it   brings   brows   to   furrow   upon   his   forehead   ,      opalescent   gaze   NARROWING   slightly   with   the   corner   of   his   lip   denoting   the   DISGRUNTLED   nature   he   often   dons   .                            ❛    Speak   your   mind   .      It’s   pointless   trying   to   hide   it   ,    especially   with   me   .    ❜

   Vitale looks at Vergil tiredly when the words sitting on his tongue, refusing to come out, are acknowledged. Of course, he isn’t surprised. Yes, they cannot hide from each other, but it bothers him all the same to be prodded at. 

     “ I am aware, yet I find no more ease in speaking my feelings to you than I do with anyone else. ” Such is how they both are, and he felt no real need to explain it, but the words came out regardless.  Vitale sighs and then all is quiet again, save for the sound of him idly tapping his cane against his shoe, and the usual ambiance of the outdoors. That gentle stillness of the late evening and the calming bustle of the city. A woman laughs somewhere, another woman’s voice --- her words unintelligible --- follows after. A dog’s bark echoes from afar.

        He prefers the park at this hour. He always did. 

NICO’S  SMOKE  PUFFS  IN  WISPS  out  the  open  windows  like  tendrils  snaking  toward  the  late-evening  sky,  the  van–blinking  blue  neon,  devil  may  cry,  a  fine  mobile  outlet  if  he’d  dare  say  so  himself–skittering  to  a  violent  dime  stop.  there’s  a  mutter  of  outrage  from  within  the  white  walls  before  the  side  door  jars  open  like  a  welcoming  shutter,  and  nero  leans  out  of  the  plush  of  the interior,  gripping  the  frame  in  a  vice.  that  red  clad  figure  is  all  too  familiar  to  the  younger  devil  hunter,  who  cocks  a  grin,  dimpled  and  sweet.  he  wouldn’t  say  it,  not  here,  but  he  was  happy. 

happy  to  see  him.  happy  he  was  alive.  he  doesn’t  ask  where  vergil  is–he  doesn’t  think  he’d  see  dante  if  he  wasn’t  healthy  and  well.  nero  extends  his  human  hand,  wiggling  organic  fingers,  the  silhouette  of  the  buster  arm  burned  into  the  door  frame.  

‘  need  a  ride,  old  man?  ‘

@extremepath​

    He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s been back home. To smell fresh rain on the air, to stand there in the stillness of the sleeping city, so jarring compared to the stench and chaos of the Underworld. A chaos unlike that the human world could manifest.  Yep. It was good to be back. Even better to see the headlights of the familiar van speeding towards him, and the commotion that follows when Nico makes a desperate halt in its acceleration.

It stops just a breath’s distance from Dante, but he never flinches, instead giving a smile and patting the hood of the vehicle as if he were praising it. The hunter moves around to the passenger side when he hears the door open, his feet carrying him with a strange grace despite the lethargy that usually occupied his body language.

it sounds like a river leaping and falling; it sounds like a body / falling apart.                  ---- mary oliver 

A   faint   sigh   slipping   past   her   lips   ,      fingers   pressing   ‘gainst   plate’s   edge   as   she   pushes   it   ever   so   slightly   CLOSER   to   the   man   before   taking   a   seat   herself   ,      resting   chin   within   her   palm   .                          ❝    I   never   made   mention   that   you   were   .      It’s   just   simply   a   FACT   that   you   seem   to   often   forget   you   need   to   eat   .    ❞        Other   hand   lifting   ,      pointing   not   at   his   face   ,    but   somewhere   a   little   LOWER   on   him    [    for   she   had   heard   the   strange   sounds   that   emanated   from   that   stomach   of   his    ]   .

                        ❝    It   doesn’t   help   that   your   noisy   stomach   seems   to   be   disaffirming   your   prior   statement    .    ❞

    “ Ah? ” Vitale places his hand on his abdomen when Eb points at it, Griffon laughs in his head, and V lets out a huff that is heavy with his exasperation. Traitorous thing.  Though, she was right that he did forget sometimes, so unused to needing to eat so frequently. Being entirely human was a damned chore.

    “ ... So it is. ” Vitale lowers his hand, then he looks to the plate that Ebony has offered. The smell of the food must have further antagonized his hunger.  “ You do not have to go out of your way to feed me. ” But the food is here, growing colder by the second, and V knows it’s better not to let it go to waste, so he lifts his fork from the table.