// Vergil voice: thanks I guess

   There were always weak moments, seconds of agony, minutes of vulnerability. This was now, wasn’t it? Moments he needed to follow through with plans, moments he had to follow through with his body. How hard could it be? This was second nature, this was a simple action.

   Limbo was full of many twists and turns, full of demons and bad decisions. Even the landscape wanted to kill him, words of white plastered on walls solidifying the idea. He was a wanted dead man in Limbo, and everything that crawled wanted to wear his skin like a coat. Unfortunate for them, he’s spent a decent amount of time inside Limbo, and has managed to get himself out without a scratch.

   Which was, unfortunate for him, not one of those times. When he stumbles from the confines of Limbo, his stomach turning as he fades back into the mortal world, he feels the knot in his core as he nearly loses his lunch behind a dumpster. Warmth trickles down his hip, and he’s painfully reminded the Ravager had caught hold of him. It was a rookie mistake. He doesn’t think of the severity of it, merely pulls his shirt down over it and clamps a hand down to try and stop the bleeding. Feet carry him forward back home, hoping Andante would be there to patch him up.

miscellaneous angst starters.@daemominus // ↪ vergil.

she  has  LEFT  them.  she  knows  that.  she  shouldn’t  have  trusted  a  demon  with  her  safety,  with  her  children’s  safety  but  he  seemed  different  and  she  wanted  to  give  him  a  chance  /  only  to  be  betrayed  in  the  END.  a  soft  sigh  escapes  her  lips  as  too  many  memories  of  past  events  force  their  way  into  her  mind  but  she  doesn’t  let  them  take  hold  for  longer  than  a  moment.  it’s  vergil’s  voice  that  snap  her  out  of  bitter  thoughts,  green  eyes  resting  on  his  tall  figure  as  his  words  finally  make  some  SENSE.

and  it’s  a  valid  question,  isn’t  it.  she  tried  to  be  a  good  mother  for  them,  she  really  did.  she  did  her  best,  but  in  the  end  she  should’ve  trusted  her  instincts  when  it  came  to  sparda  –  but  the  past  can’t  be  UNDONE  and  she  should  be  grateful  mundus  had  been  stupid  and  blind  enough  to  bring  her  back  into  the  game,  as  if  he  could  use  her  a  BAIT  /  as  if  she’d  ever  allow  such  outrageous  thing.

still  she  smiles  at  her  oldest,  slipping  out  her  chair  just  to  get  close  enough  to  pull  him  into  a  TIGHT  hug,  pressing  a  gentle  kiss  on  his  forehead.  they’ve  suffered  so  much  because  of  her  mistakes…  fingers  brush  hair  away  from  his  face  gently,  her  gaze  soft  and  full  of  love  as  their  eyes  meet.

             “THERE IS NO JOKE, IT’S JUST PURE BULLSHIT.” It certainly seemed so because since when did a king of demons and a king of humans peacefully enter any building? Let alone share the same presence. She didn’t figure many would understand that there really was no punchline except for facts. She couldn’t help but laugh in the manner a child would at teasing someone.

          “Naomi, and you are?” Of course, she introduces herself straight after, as eccentric and perplexing her mind worked, “I’m just trying to figure out what’s useful here for a concoction. May~be even a good use for poison -- Think nightshade and wolfsbane could work against lycanthrope type demons?” Nevermind that she was mumbling to herself in the latter parts. Even brushing her bangs out of the way when crouching to look around the bushes at whatever weeds and herbs she can find. even pulling up what appeared to be Queen Anne’s lace. A feathered head pops from her hoodie to chirp in her ear. Gold hues glow and flicker towards the tiny demon that had made its presence known.

          “Ah yes. Roots of Queen Anne’s have the same flavor of a carrot and make good herbal tea for some of you with indigestion. This whatcha need for last night’s dinner Caym?” Standing up once she gathers a handful and turns back to the other. A hand pressing to push the demon back into her hoodie for safekeeping.

< link here for the candle meme because mun is a sassy dingus > || accepting !!

“I would say this Vergil’s candle smells like mineral oil and sandalwood… “

( Or perhaps, his scent is more like…

HIS  TRAVELS  HAD  LED  HIM  MANY  PLACES  ;  ECCENTRICITIES   NOW  COMMON  IN  HIS  EYES ;        this   was   no   different .   Despite   the   fact   that   SIMILARITIES   WERE   SHARED   AS   MUCH   AS   NOT ,   it   is   not   difficult   for   him   to   discern   who   they   are   (   A   FRAGMENT ;   A   WHOLE   OTHER   PERSON ,   A   DISTORTED   REFLECTION   OF   HE   ) .   Yamato   HUMS   WITHIN   HIS   GRASP ,   responding ,   questioning ,   as   the    Darkslayer   shifts   his   stance .   Piercing   ice   bores   through   him ,   scrutinizing   every   bit    of   the   being   before   him .

                        ❛    ------------ You   look   as   if   you’ve   seen   a   ghost .    ❜

He  manages  a  feeble  rap  of  his  knuckles  on  wood,  leaning  against  the  door  frame  and  trying  his  best  to  regulate  his  breathing.   Every  breath  came  out  ragged  and  hot,   the  scorch  of  embers  doing  nothing  but  chafe  his  throat  raw  and  make  him  cough  out  puffs  of  black  smoke.   He  laughs  as  he  tries  the  door  handle,   wondering  when  was  the  last  time  he  even  stood  outside  someone’s  house  waiting  to  be  let  in.   Had  to  be  a  first  in  a  long  while.   

❝ Feerg... `   He  stops  himself,   a  barely  comprehensible  word  uttered  out  in  desperation  turns  into  a  strained  attempt,   barely  coherent,  and  no  where  close  to  properly  saying  his  name  right.    Brows  pinch  together,  a  dry  tongue  wipes  across  chapped  lips  ;   cotton-mouthed  to  all  hell.   Shit.   

All  sense  of  perception  is  starting  to  fray  and  fizzle  out,   and  stubbornly  he  tries  to  fight  against  it.   Straightening  his  posture  only  to  fall  against  the  door,   a  weak  laugh  falling  from  a  strained  smile.   Shit.   

He  keeps  forgetting  that  he’s  human,   that  he  needs  food  and  water.  Shit.

When  the  door  opens,  he  manages  to  stay  upright  to  offer  a  pitiful  smile  and  a   ❝  Yo,  Fergie,  water,  thanks.  `    before  vertigo  takes  over  and  he’s  falling  over.