Blue Orchids~

Don’t think about that! A voice snapped in the back of his mind like a metal slap. His body jolted in sharp response, as the alabaster hand around his glass tightened. Just don’t.

Dante took a shaky sip of his icy drink. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he attempted to purge his mind of the thought once more.

But the beer did little to help, its chill expertly focusing his mind onto that exact topic, onto her alone.

What was Trish? Please stop . Clearly not Eva in terms personality that’s for sure. They couldn’t be more different. There… there just wasn’t the same flame there that Eva had always had. That’s the best way Dante could think to describe it. Eva always felt warm in a homey way, while Trish felt like the violent tinders setting the whole place alight. Stop It!  

Granted, he couldn’t lie that he didn’t find that quality rather admirable. But the uncanny valley was just far too strong for his own liking. Heh, maybe that’s the same feeling people get when they meet him and Verge for the first time. Two people who look completely alike, but are so wildly different from one another it.  Fuck, maybe Trish is just a long lost twin of Eva’s who’d just happened to be converted into a demon at some point? Fucking absurd idea, he knew. But given how many recent revolutions about his family had come to light in the past few weeks. How much did he truly know about his family, anymore? For all he could know, twins really could just run in the family-

He was just kidding himself wasn’t he? Dante could already imagine Vergil disapproving remarks over how ridiculous such an insane idea was. And he knew damn well phantom Vergil wasn’t wrong. He knew the most likely answer. You’re going to regret this you idiot! Stop thinking now! He always had.

The only other thing Trish could most likely be was…

Eva herself.

Ground up and converted into one of his own kind.

There was no other obvious (and realistic) way why Trish would look so much like her. And in a twisted way, the idea just worked, from the moment it clicked in his mind! What would be a more fitting punishment for her and Sparda, for having half-human offspring like him and Vergil, than making Eva into a demon against her will?

A twisted, cruel smirk pulled at Dante’s lips. This was all his fault wasn’t it? He should’ve been there to protect her. He never should have gone looking for Vergil. He should’ve payed closer attention to him instead of brushing his strange behaviour off, stopped him before he went on his murder tour of the city’s databanks in the first place. He was such a awful brother and son to the both of them, wasn’t he?

"Attention travellers! 5 minutes remain until the last train departs!”

Despairing, Dante went to go take another sip from his bottle. Yet only a drop of the bitter drink landed on his tongue. He lifted the bottle up into the air, and lazily tipped it upside down. Squinting a little, gazing up into its small hole, only to depressingly find nothing there…

Maybe he was taking this self-deprecating train of thought too far though? There was nothing concrete about that conclusion. He was just going off yet another assumption wasn’t he?

For one, Trish didn’t have the trademark bleach white hair they all had. Heh, another blindingly obvious deduction there Detective Dante! He thought, a weak smirk just tugging at his lips. It...wasn’t a great case for Eva not being converted the more he thought about it though. She clearly had the tech of a demon, being able to summon those swords at will and all, and as Vergil had demonstrated tonight, she could’ve just dyed it blond. Perhaps it was a faint memory of Eva slipping through. But no, even that didn’t seem quite right...

He’d run into a few newly converted demons in his time, and while disoriented, they seemed to be able to completely recall their old lives with no trouble. Yet Trish had no memory of either of them - not even the basic motherly sixth sense that Eva always seemed to have, still lurking in there at all. So Eva's memory being wiped (did they even have that tech?) seemed out of the question. And what about the rucks that would’ve been caused upon the discovery that a human woman had been living on the upper floor for like what? 20 years under the demonic authorities noses? That would’ve been all over the news without question! Yet they hadn’t heard a peep of anything like that…

“Attention travellers! 2 minutes remain until the last train departs!"

So Eva could be safe, but she also be long gone. What a wonderful fucking paradox!

Dante rubbed a hand across his tired eyes, his fingertips glazing over the warm sweat covering his brow. He got up from the stool, nursing the empty beer bottle to his chest; somewhat amazed it wasn’t shattering beneath his firm hold. He really needed to get going. No matter how much the anxious twist of his gut, or dizzy, alcohol-fogged mind begged him to do anything but sit his ass back down.

Shakes racked his body, as he stumbled out of the small room and headed towards the escalator back down.

“Attention travellers! The last train will be departing in 1 minute!"

———–

Okay. Maybe we can still get away with this, even if the cult leaders aren’t all dead! Dante thought, trying to reassure himself. As long as the Cult of Fortuna doesn't reform under Agnus. Augustus will have no reason to think we screwed up. Yeah! All he wants is his family to be free. So like he need to know about the finer details of this mission anyway-

His stream of consciousness was abruptly cut off, when his foot came into contact with something solid and heavy, just as he passed through the doorway. The demon glanced down curiously, only to immediately regret the decision when he found the two guards who’d assailed him at the door, laying out cold on the floor. Looking distinctly very dead, if the large pools of blood around them was anything to go by.

That explains why you guys didn’t come charging in at the first sound of commotion. Damn. Dante mused, awkwardly stepping over the guard’s arm he’d come into contact with. Trying to avoid getting blood on his dark metallic feet, with picky, small steps.

“Are you coming?” Gloria’s impatient voice asked. Dante looked up, finding his mother’s doppelgänger standing there in the darkness with her arms crossed disapprovingly - still holding her sword in one hand. “The sight of a few dead bodies scaring you, recruit?”

“Hey, I’m not the summer intern lady! Show me some respect, alright?” Dante said, biting back with his usual wit. Confidently walking off ahead of her down the hall ahead of her. “What even gives you authority over me anyway?”

“Oh I’ve only spent the last six months infiltrating my way inside here. I’d think with that amount of effort, I should be in charge instead of the guy who rocks up at the last minute!”

“Hey, sometimes it’s only the last few minutes that count in the end anyway!” Dante responded cheekily, lifting his crimson sword up and resting it on his shoulders. An overly-dramatic, mournful sigh escaping him, as he pressed his hand on his forehead, like he was a tragic character on stage. “Though, not that my epic tea serving skills will ever be appreciated now."

“They were very nice, dear.” Gloria complimented calmly from his side. The blond woman had caught up with him once again. "Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Perhaps. Although your real name would be nice too.” Dante smirked.

He knew he was pushing it a bit here. If she was sent by the demonic military, it was likely she wasn’t allowed to reveal her true identity to anyone for the sake of keeping things nice and secure; names always meant loose ends, and that was never good for anything covert.

It was a rule that Dante knew better than most (He kinda broke it... pretty often. Had the higher-ups or his dad found out about his first meeting with Lady for example, he no doubt would’ve gotten one hell of a rocket up his ass for how many protocols he’d broken). So the chances that uptight ‘Gloria’ here was gonna spill the beans on…well anything about herself, let alone the similarities to his mother, was unlikely at best.  

It seemed he wasn’t wrong, as Trish’s face turned hard at the suggestion. Looking dead ahead with the stern procession, pretending as though he wasn’t there. Leaving an uncomfortable silence (Not that you couldn’t really call it that though, with all the panicked yelling and commands to ’search the area’ echoing down from a few corridors back) to fall upon them.

But that wasn’t to say there was a glimmer of hope. Every now and then, her lips would twitch almost like she was on the verge of saying something before shutting herself down once again. Until finally, she anxiously glanced over her shoulder and spoke.

“Trish.”

Hot damn! He actually got something out of her! “Trish? Oh like Beatrice-“

“Just Trish.” She insisted firmly. Her fixing her green eyes over to the young man beside her, with an fearsome intensity only Vergil could match. "And your’s?”

Oh. He hadn’t thought that far ahead with this.

Should I tell her? Crap, that was a tough question. Sure in the here and now it would be fine. Perfectly reasonable too since she’d given her own. But, what happened when this mission was over? Trish would most likely have to report back on how this operation went down. Write up some boring essay that Dante normally left Vergil to handle. She’d surely mention he was involved as her ‘back-up’ or something. And that would be fine if she left it vague. There were plenty of grunts like him out there so he’d be pretty anonymous.

But…if he was named. It wouldn’t take long for some clever-clogs back at dispatch to realise he was here unauthorised. Questions would be asked most certainly, and Dante wasn’t sure how well he or Vergil could defend themselves once that started happening. What, being involved in an unauthorised capacity on an operation months in the making, if he went off what Trish said. From there, it could only unravel more and more. The two week absence, Vergil’s little murder tour of the cities’ databanks, Lady, Eva-

What if they already know about Eva?  Stuck the sudden, horrifying thought. Trish thinks she’s a demon. What if they had- No! They can’t have done that!

“I’m risking a lot telling you that, you know?” Trish huffed angrily, brushing hair out of her face rather elegantly. “Going to return the favour or not?”

“Yeah yeah I am..” Dante brushed her off, his voice quivering slight. If.. if they had done what he thought they’d done. There was no point hiding anything anymore.

There was no point to anything.  

“Its.. its Dante”

“Good name.” Trish praised, a faint smile tracing her lips.

“Heard it before then?” He pried, returning with his usual confidant edge. Yet, that couldn’t be anywhere further from the truth in reality. His stomach was a torrent of nervous energy, swishing and swirling in anticipation for what would come as her reply. Honestly not sure if it would be a blessing or a curse if she did recognise him.

“No. It's just an instinct. Nothing grander than that I’m afraid.” Trish professed a little bashful. “Although, rolls off the tongue rather nicely I suppose."

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Dante said, smiling weakly. Perhaps there was something there after all…

All of a sudden, Trish reached an arm across Dante’s chest and pulled him so they were both pressed flat against the wall.

“Hey, what was that for-“

“Shut it.” Trish ordered sternly, voice low. Putting a finger to her lips, before gesturing with her eyes to the end of the corridor.

Dante followed their gaze. In the dull yellow light leaking from around the corner. Two shadows, large and twisted in a way that made their builds indistinguishable, traced their way across the floor. Thankfully it seemed they had already passed by, if Dante guessed from the direction the shadows were moving. Having missed the pair of demons completely by some stroke of luck.

“Think we’re safe. They’re leaving.” Dante whispered, moving to get up, only the flat edge of Trish’s golden blade to be pressed against his chest. Pinning down him in place, unmoving.

“Not so fast.” Trish advised sternly. Carefully observing the shadows’ movements as they danced across the floor. “They’re going to loop back round any minute now."

“Loop back round? Look, their probably just catering staff on the move. Unless they’ve dropped any napkins on the floor that I’ve missed here, they are going to be long gone any minute now-“

“And why exactly would catering staff move in groups of two?” Trish inquired. She had a point. Tonight had taught Dante enough to know he was barking up the wrong tree here. He’d been left to do stuff on his own, actively encouraged in fact. So yeah, for two people to be walking around together with no trolly did seem kinda strange to be honest. “They’re most likely guards on patrol no doubt. My men….the cults' guards have a protocol to move in groups of two. Means if one goes down the other can call for help. I know because I instituted it."

“Geez, thanks for making our lives harder I guess?” Dante joked.

“Oh I try my best~” Trish stated modestly. Removing her sword from his chest and lowering it back down to her side. “May as well make it up to you then, shouldn’t I Dante? I’ll only be a moment."

Sticking close to the wall, Trish swiftly began to make her way down the corridor. Disappearing around the corner moments later in one fluid, deadly movement.

Off she goes killing again. Dante sighed to himself, letting out air he didn’t even realise he was holding in. The relief that he was on his own again striking him in that moment. He was thankful for it. Any more stress, and his strained heart probably was gonna give out young. And let’s just say keeling over from a heart attack, wasn’t exactly on the demon's to-do list tonight.

The young man reclined his head back against the freezing wall. Maybe I should tell her to just keep to non-violent takedowns until we get out of here. Would’ve thought a trail of dead bodies is going to be pretty obvious to follow-

“What the-“ Cried a distinctly familiar, peppy voice. Followed by a surge of bright blue light streaking across the wall from around the corner. The crash of someone collapsing to the ground echoing down the corridor to Dante’s sensitive ears. Alerting him.

That can’t be good! Dante thought, imminently springing into action. Hurriedly sprinting down to check what was going on.

Only to be met at gunpoint by Lady when he rounded the corner.

———–

“Ah! Don’t worry about him! "He’s my- uh... a-assistant?" Lady suddenly blurted out nervously; putting herself in front of him.  Assistant?! Who did she think he was?! Her personal damn maid!? “I thought events like this allowed plus ones?”

The guard physically backed down at her words. Lowering his rifle. “So he’s with you madam?”

“Yes!” Lady nodded adamantly.

The guard turned aside for one moment and reached a hand up to the side of his helmet, mumbling a string of intelligible, static-soaked words across what must’ve been some sort of intercom. A high-pitched whine soon came in response, causing the guard to nod his head in understanding. Not a moment later, he glanced over at his co-worker by the door. Giving a hearty thumbs up to him in acceptance of her claim.

Without another word, the other guard sprang to life from his stony vigil. Swiftly opening the glass door wide for the pair, and allowing a marvelous concerto of violins and idle chatter to bleed through the entrance way.

“You’re free to enter. Just don’t let that assistant of your's leave your sights, alright?” The guard ordered strictly. Moving aside and gesturing for the two to pass.

“Will do. Thanks!” Lady smiled widely - and rather falsely to Vergil’s eyes - as the woman suddenly grabbed a firm hold of his arm. The pair hurriedly striding inside, before the door shut behind them.

“Your Assistant? Just what am I to you?!” Vergil growled angrily, finally free to vent his frustration. He looked down at his black dressed companion by his side with burning discontent in his eyes. Unable to believe the cheek of this woman to think that he’d willingly be her- her personal slave! He was already Dante’s long suffering vassal whether he liked it or not!

“Look, it was that or fiancé. Just be glad I didn’t choose the other in the spur of the moment!” Lady deflected in a joking tone. Casually let go of his arm now no-one was looking, and placed her hands on her hips. “Come on, you knew what being the plus one meant. And I’ll have you know I’m a very accomplished business woman, Mr Assistant!”

“In what field?” He huffed in a sarcastic voice, turning his head away. When Lady couldn’t respond imminently, a small smile crept onto Vergil’s lips. It seems I've won this round.

The mercenary soon gave in with a frustrated sigh. “Let’s not go in too deep into my backstory, ok?” She walked down the short glass corridor overlooking the city, ahead of him, towards the swelling noise. “You coming or not, Vergil?”

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