Post by charlie on Oct 2, 2008 8:45:30 GMT -5
(( Author's note: Um, hi! I didn't know what to post, so I thought, hell, why not post one of many, MANY fan fics...? This involves all characters from across the DMC games. 1,2,3 and 4 to the best of my abilities... Mind the swearing, sorry if I offened any one...))
The girl with the wild green eyes bit her lip and took the outstreached money from the offering man.
"So, what, he's like- big bad? Demon? 'Cuz I don't do the human killing thing..." she trailed off as the man glared her down.
He made her nervous, which was weird because she was not some one that intimidated easiliy.
"Okay, big bad, demon. I can dig it." she offered the man a small grin, and backtracked around her desk, counting the waded money.
She had to act cockier than usual, it seemed to be the only language men understood.
Confidence.
Along with revenge, vengeance, it seemed all the men that came to her had issues of some manner.
"Any preferances as to how the dude dies?" she tried again with the conversation- she needed specifics.
"As long as he's dead. And stays dead, I could not care less." he growled.
Charlie got the impression this guy had better places to be then in her tiny little office, talking to her about some random demon.
"You got a name for this demon? Any.... Discriptions?" she waved a hand around airily, pursing her lips in thoughts and letting the six rainbow barbwired styled bracelets, two black hair ties and funky purple watch slide from her wrist down her left arm.
"White hair. Blue eyes. Medium bulid.Always doned in a red. Trench. Coat." he said harshly, spitting the words through gritted teeth. Then regaining his cool composure, he continued. "I believe they call him the 'saviour's son'."
"Yeah....rings a bell or two....I'll figure it out and send his misery you're way."
The man grimaced- like his own version of a twisted smile- and stepped back into the shadows.
"Tell him Arkham gives his regards."
She looked up from her money. "Will do-"
Hang on.
"Uh....Hello?"
He was gone.
"Well, hell. He moves fast."
She shrugged, and tucked the money safely into the bottom of her shoe.
Shaking a black watch, a red watch, four blue bracelets and one chunky bangle up her right arm, she pulled out the last bottle of hard alcohol left in the house since her last binge.
Over a space of about an hour, she drank almost half.
She shuddered as the cool breeze of 'something else' wafted through the gaps between the boards she'd put up on her windows, thanks to a hyper active demon named Roul.
Sighing, Charlie flicked dark curls away from her crazy green eyes and removed her sword from directly behind her desk- a dark grey one made from a melted down metiorite with dimonds set firmly in the handle- named Defiance.
Difiance shone as the moonlight hit the blade.
Charlie let her crazy green eyes wonder to outside, pushing the plank of wood apart and staring through the gap between it.
"Well hell, you nasty ass bastard," she muttered to herself, reminding herself dumbly to get some bigger weapons and taking another large gulp of alcohol.
She slit the boards that was her window, and kicked it to peices.
It had the desired affect on the massive two headed demon, who turned and growled at the approaching woman.
"Let's dance."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Ah, hell! Demons or no demons, it's time for a holiday!" Charlie hissed through gritted teeth, yanking a large glass fragment out of her ribs and setting it down on the tray next to her, watching with grim eyes as the pool rolled off the glass and pooled around the sharp shards.
She flicked the news on, easing herself off of the desk and going over to sit in front of the television.
"...And in other news, a man has been accused of using exploseives to blow up half of down town's subways. The man has not yet been aprehended, but witnesses claim he was tall, young with snow white hair and blue eyes, medium build wearing a red trench coat and brown jeans. One of the only surviving witnesses, the only one that hasn't succomed to acoma, claims the man battled with a large creature resembling a worm. Police have dismissed the claim as post truamatic stress disorder from the event."
Chalie frowned as the T.V continued to yap on about witnesses and such.
She had no interest in them, merely the man in question...
White hair? Blue eyes? Medium build? Red coat? And the one concious witness claims there was a demon.
So, the guy she was after was most likely a demon hunter, or he was a giant worm in disguise.
Demons didn't hunt their own kind. But the giant worms that did actually on occasion roam the subways didn't transform into humans.
"You shouldn't sit so close to the T.V, you know." said a smooth voice from behind her.
She turned slightly so her face was half hidden by the leather of her favorite purple jacket, and rose an eyebrow.
"You could get square eyes." he finished, walking in with a bounce in his step.
She grinned and turned to face him fully.
The grin she wore so cockily fell.
Medium tall.
White hair.
Blue eyes.
She eyed him wariliy, then offered a small, easy, I'm-going-to-kill-you-soon grin.
He caught on.
She could feel it in the air between them- a demon.
He rose a brow and took a few steps towards her desk.
"So you know what I am...?" he questioned cooly, watching her stride across the room and bolt the door closed.
She rolled her shoulders then her neck, preparing for the battle ahead.
"Hell yeah I do. You must be the 'son of the saviour', am I right?" She turned and gave him one of her famous half smiles, sexy, but dangerous.
It made most men- human men- melt.
He shot her a suggestive look in return.
"You bet. I see you've done you're reaserch?" it was more of a question, the way he spoke, sifting through a few files on her desk with his where abouts, history, habits, jobs and even relationships printed neatly on each page.
She may live like a pig, but one thing Charlie could not stand was a messy desk.
She eyed Difiance that was sitting on the wall behind his head, the one he hadn't seemed to notice.
This case had consumed the girl- she'd given up all other jobs, left her office sign on closed and lived off of the money Arkham had given her.
"Of course. Wouldn't want to go out in the big bad world half cocked, now, would I?" she pouted, a trick she'd learnt early on in life- most cocky, arrogant bastards were a sucker for a cute face and measly wimper.
"I'm just a girl, after all."
He grinned.
"So, you were planning a hit on me? Not a good way to make friends..."
"I'm complicated." She said airily, hoping to focus on why he was her more than anything, so she could get that damned sword.
A nd plus, she was ment to be following him, not the other way around!
"So, you found me...What were you planning once you got here?" She proded the question carefully, looking at him with soft doe eyes.
But his eyes were on the files in his hands.
"Mia....Mia,Mia, Mia....Oh! Mia! I remember, had a tattoo on her rump....It was such a nice rump..." he flicked through the pages quietly murmuring under his breath.
His eyes widened.
"She said that..?!" he looked down at his crutch, then through the pages again.
"Freya...? God damn I must've been smashed that night...Look at the nose onit!" he pointed as though someone from behind could see, squinting down at the page and raising it to his eyes.
"Weird ass little mofo said that? Sheesh..." he threw the papers on the desk, and ran a hand over his face.
"What you must think about lil' ol' me, huh?" he grinned in her direction.
She pouted, once again going all I'm-so-scared.
"I don't judge a guy on his....uh....girls." she couldn't help but laugh a little. There was about three men in there who the guy had obviously thought were girls. The men all agreed that he did have a feral way with words.
"Well, from most of these it makes me the bad guy...But you should've asked just how satisfied they were." he purred, opening his arms wide and roaming around her side of the desk.
She sighed and rolled her eyes.
He was just too full of himself to pay attention to her right now, so her 'I'll-distract-him-to-get-the-sword-from-right-behind-his-head' plan was safe.
She hated that! No fun!
Pouting for the final time, she took what seemed to be a few cautious steps forward and gazed up at him.
Finally invading his bubble, he shut up and looked down at her with wide eyes.
"I thought you were a demon hunter?" he said smoothly.
"That dosen't mean a girl don't get lonesome." she watched his face and raised hands to sit around the back of his neck.
"Uh...well, I mean, sure, but we're supposed to kill each other, remember? Wouldn't be very cool if we got attatched, you know?"
"Aww, I know." she wispered, backing him forcefully into the desk.
He stole a glance downwards then shot his now mischivious eyes you to her.
She wispered everything that she knew he'd want to hear in his ear, causing him to shift and swap positions with her.
Now she was pinned to the desk.
Hating herself, she wrapped legs around his hips to pull him closer and felt her own body offer a reaction.
Damn.
Well, she thought dimly. Maybe I don't 'hate' myself...
His breath was hot on her throat, trailing the most gentle of kisses to the collarbone.
She licked her lips and pulled his head up so they were face to face.
He seemed a little dazed, a little worried he wasn't impressing her, but the famous half grin she gave him a clued in a hint.
"What did I miss?" he asked, lips inches away from hers.
She let her head loll backwards to see she was staring at Difiance.
"Damn. You had me goin', for a second there, babe." he grinned, pulling her tighter in his grip so she sat up.
She laughed and thumped him lightly on the arm.
"Oh, man. I'm sure going to miss you when you're gone, sweet heart. You were fun."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
She replied simply by slipping her legs up and out of his grip and kicking him forcefully in the chest.
He stumbled back, and when he looked up, both the girl and the sword were gone.
"Oh, no fair, babe. I like 'em fiesty, a little hard-to-get. But this is taking it too far-"
SMACK.
She swung out of no where, hanging from an exercise bar in the roof that no one really took the time to notice.
She hit him fair in the jaw, then flipped down, sword drawn and grin half cocked.
"C'mon, Dante. You gotta be faster than that!" she smirked, readying her stance.
"Oh, babe, you have no idea what you're up against." he shot back smoothly, drawing his own sword and readying his own.
She sent him a half-grin, and attacked.
Their swords met in mid air, sending sparks flying back at their owners.
The force of the impact sent both markmen/ women flying back.
He fell with a grunt.
She landed with a yelp.
Injured, she got to her feet swaying. Blood was seeping from inbetween her fingers at her alredy injured stomach, dribling down to pool at her feet.
The other hand was raised, sword pointing at him dangerously.
"You made me bleed on my favourite jacket! Not cool, man. Do you have any idea how much leather costs to get dry cleaned!?"
"Well excuse me! But look at this!" he winged, holding out the back of his own scarlet jacket.
It was burnt all around the edges, charred from the recently flying sparks.
"Blood can be removed, but this is permanent." he grumbled.
She flew at him again, swiftly dissarming him of his blade and holding the sword to his throat.
"Like I said. You were fun. I'm going to miss you." she smirked. The humor didn't reach her eyes, which were cold with the task in mind.
"Arkham sends his regards." she said shortly, watching his reaction.
"Any last words?"
"Yeah." he said blankly.
She cocked an eyebrow.
"Dodge it."
"Dodge-?"
BANG.
The butt of a gun, no doubt about it, swung from behind Charlie's head and sent her forward.
Not one to go down with out a fight, she swung around with a small grunt and sliced the perpertrator through the stomach, watching the blood seem through the lady's shirt and run down.
"Lady!" exclaimed Dante, stepping forwards.
Lady seemed dazed, falling to her knees.
Charlie stole the oppertunity to crawl away, head spinning.
"G-Get-"
"Lady, stop talking." Dante ordered.
"Sh-She's- gettin-g A-way!"
"I know." he said smoothly.
Charlie'd heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
"Aw, hell!" she hissed.
Never one to dissmiss company, it hurt her that she worked alone.
She had no one to fall to, no safety net, no drinking buddy.
No one to tell her it didn't matter their victim was escaping, because she was hurt and that was all that mattered.
"Dan-Te!!"
"Don't 'Dante' me, Lady, you're going to pass out soon, and that whack to the head won't let her get far."
Charlie was already out the door, and got to her feet, swaying.
The sword, it seemed, was making it hard for her to balance.
She looked at it blanky, wondering why there was yellow and green spots on it.
"And plus, Lucia is out there anyway."
Charlie stopped looking at the sword dumbly and shot her head up.
The red headed huntress eyed her dimly.
Aw, hell.
"I....I take it...." she jerked her thumb in the direction of the couple behind her.
"You're with them?" she stabbed the sword into the ground and leaned on it as a crutch.
The woman nodded, raising two blades of her own.
"Oh, c'mon, missus." she winged, shaking the fuzzy vision from her eyes.
"You gonna battle me too? Cuz that dosen't soon...wait..." she held up a hand and corrected herself nodding. "Seem, to sit well when I kick all you're asses."
The woman visably tightened her grip on the blades, and took stance.
Charlie winced, pulling her blade out of the ground, and clutched her side a little tighter.
"C'mon then." she teased, finding her famous half-grin from somewhere amongst all the pain.
"Let's dance."
The woman, nodded, stepping further into stance, then flew at her.
Charlie was clumsy with the sword now she could barley see two feet infront of her, but her footwork was still embedded deep within her mind, and she took pride in it, making it hard for the woman to keep up.
She was good, Charlie was prepared to say, but worked only on attacking with the blade and not her feet.
Charlie, on the other hand, struck out with the blade and when that was disarmed took it in her stride to kick out at the woman before retreiving her sword.
"C'mon...That all you got?" she slurred, watching the woman pick herself off of the floor and wipe a trail of blood from her mouth.
A figure in her door way caught her attention.
She couldn't see that well, but a blurred man carrying a bridal style woman made her smirk.
"Aww, hell. You guys are SO cute..." she said swaying, sending the blade into the ground as a crutch once more.
"Shouldn't you be unconcious?" he snapped, making it obvious of his anger towards her actions.
She rolled her eyes.
"Shouldn't you be unconsious?" she mimicked, watching as he strode closer until she could see him. "What happened to making friends?"
She watched his eyes flick up then down again.
She took a sharp breath then heard the very air moving behind her.
She yanked the sword from the ground with wide open eyes and held it above her head in defence, having to use both hands as it was getting heavier each time she tried to swing it.
The ring of clashing metal alone sent her ass first into the ground, but she held the sword strong.
She swapped hands - being ambidextrus with her swordfighting- as the main hand was vibrating from the prior impact.
She glared and stood, forcing the blade away from her throat and getting into the face of her opponent.
"Hey, weren't you just wearing red?" she hissed, forcing the blade closer to his throat, crazy green orbs glaring into the ice blue eyes of her new ememy.
"No." he said blandly, forcing the blade back, sending sparks flying.
She smirked and deftly slid the sword down to his hand, trying to disarm him, only to have him step back to gain advantage.
She too, stepped back, attcking once more, throwing eveything into her stride as she went forwards.
He side stepped her, she countered him, vision needing a harsh shake before swinging the sword only to have him deflect it, turning her with impact.
Back facing him, she fought from both the sides of her, hearing the sword before it struck.
She threw it up, knowing her head would be the next place he swung at, and turned to punch him in the face.
He had caught her sword, and took the attack to his nose gracefully, stepping back a step.
Now she was dissarmed, Charlie had no option but to fight hand to hand or go down quietly.
Scratch that.
Charlie had no option but to fight.
She snarled and struck out at him again, feeling hard jaw under her knuckles.
He criss crossed the swords, and held them at her throat.
Now staring into the icy eyes of her attacker, she understood he'd have no problem killing her.
"Aw, hell......See now, that, that was not fair." she muttered under her breath, seeing the mist land on his sword, which was atop of hers.
She eyed the sword, then placed the name, make and status of it.
Charlie was impressed.
And worried.
And passing out.
"Ver-j-il, do not kill her." said a heaviliy accented voice from behind them.
Charlie sent him a famous half-grin and watched a trail of blood run down his nose and onto his lip.
She lifted a hand slowly, feeling everyone tense.
Except him.
He just looked into her eyes, testing her, daring her to touch him.
She rose it to his face- where she had struck him only moments before- and knuckled the trail away from his lip.
He watched her face.
She watched his.
Marksman to markswoman, he lowered the swords.
She let her eyelids droop, feeling him calm her with something she didn't quite understand.
"Okay, Dante. I am unconscious....right about...." and them she dropped.
Vergil watched cooly as the woman who had touched him - the first physical touch that wasn't an attack from a woman in years - then dropped the swords and caught her before she hit the floor.
He was being watched by all of them and he knew it, but didn't care.
One handed, he picked up his both his and her swords and tucked the under his arm before settling her into his arms more carefully.
"Are we going?" he asked coldly, turning after he wasn't being followed.
Dante sent a smirk in his direction and followed.
He was going to hear nothing else but his constant torment for the next fiffty years, he just knew it.
Vergil settled down in the back of the bright red sports car and eyed the swordress in his lap.
Braclets, bangles and watches doned tiny wrists.
Hew knew why- a marksman was judged on the strangth and speed of his style- the sword was just a sharper extension of the arm. If there was a weakness, the marksman should do everything in his-or her- power to stop the opponent from knowing it.
But if that something was bone structure... then they were to hide it.
He supposed the girl would be faster if the objects were removed, but she wouldn't know just how fast and overshoot her mark.
And besides, he thought, oddly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she was a bother enough with her speed and footwork without him aiding her to get even faster.
Dante handled Lady gently, shifting her into the front seat to keep an eye on her, and put his own jacket on the door frame so she would have something to lean against.
Shirtless, he sped home, hoping Lucia had Lady's motorbike down pat. Lady wouldn't kill her if she crashed it, she'd kill him.
Dante eyed his silent brother from the reveiw mirror, who was looking down at the girl in his arms.
"So, Verge-"
"Not tonight Dante." he snapped, shooting him a glare.
Dante nodded, expecting the attack.
"Not tonight, but tommorow is another day." he grinned.
Then suddenly serious, he asked "You know swords yeah?"
Vergil looked at him with the words 'well, duh' on the tip of his tounge, but refused to speak.
"Well, The girl, when we fought back there-" Vergil glared, cutting him off. "What?"
"This injury, the one that's bleeding all over the back seat-"
Dante almost swirved off the road.
"-This wasn't caused by Rebellion, it was caused by something much thinner and for a different type of material."
"I didn't know she was injured!" Dante said hotly.
"And yet she dissarmed you and bested you in the way of the sword."
"She fast! You fought her, she's good!"
"Tell me what you were going to say, Dante." he said impatiently.
"Well, we were fighting right? And she came at me, murder in those freaky green eyes, right, and out of nowhere- when our swords connected, these lights flew all over the joint and sent me 'n' sleepin' beauty flying backwards!"
"That was the first time the swords connected in battle?"
"That was the first time the swords connected."
Vergil frowned, hearing lots of tales about swords that bucked their owners but it was rare.
He had never witnessed nor been on the other side of the blade when it happened.
He would do further reacherch on the subject however, in light of recent events.
Like him getting hard when the girl clutched his pants, murming something incomprehendable.
She gave a little moan- which wasn't helping the situation- and snuggled deeper into his leg.
Dante, noticing his brother stariing wide eyes at his lap, opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short.
"Don't even go there, Dante."
"Verge? What's-?"
"Don't. Even. Go. There."
"Are-Are you-?" he turned around in his seat to look at his brother's flustered and flushed face.
"Blushing? Vegre, why you blushing?!"
"Dante, the road." he said calmly, motioning with his eyes at the window.
Dante kept watching him with intense eyes.
"Verge, why are you blushing?"
"I am not blushing, Dante!" he snapped, voice becoming dangerous.
"Now watch the road."
Dante, never one to pry, pulled to the side of the road and turned around to face his brother in the seat.
"I'm not starting the car until you explain."
"Lady is bleeding out."
It hit home, and Vergil knew it. But being the stubborn ass of the familiy, Dante pestered on.
"Verge, just say why you're blushing and I'll keep going."
Vergil grinded his teeth together, surpressing the blush until he was controlled.
"I am not so lame as to go red. It is a stupid human function."
"But you were blushing-"
"Dante." he growled. "Drive home."
Dante was about to answer hotly when Lady grumbled in her sleep.
"Dante, get the damned pizza box away from MY yellow sock, you pig."
Both brothers looked to her then each other.
"Dante! I swear to God-" Lady said some other much more violent words ending the scentence with "-It'll leave you're ringhole burning for a month."
Dante burst into laughter, turning the key in the engine and revved the car.
"As you wish. m'Lady."
Vergil rolled his eyes about how easiliy the younger had forgotten about his little human slip up.
He'd made it a habit of expressing human laughter- one summer's night when Dante was ass drunk and was singing about being a barbie girl- and had chuckled at every stupid thing he'd done afterwards.
He had subconciously hated himself for it, even if he was enjoying himself.
This was not hell, and he had the right to, but he didn't-- just in case.
The grip on his pants tightened until he realised that the girl was acctually in pain.
Her face was screwed up, sweating profusly, and every muscle that he waved a hand over seemed tense.
"Dante, you are'nt going fast enough." he muttered, leaning over the girl to inspect her wound.
It was bad, and she had fought with it.
"Foolish human woman", he cussed under his breath as he lifted the girl's shirt to inspect the damage further. "Why didn't you stop when you felt the pain, stupid whore?"
But Dante, who could read Vergil's lips,sharply looked to the mirror hearing his brother swear, which was funny to say the least, because Vergil had been bugging him about swearing just the previous day, and almost crashed the car when he saw his brother checking out the sleeping girl.
"Woah, Verge! Take it easy!"
"Dante these wounds are deep. You need to stop driving like a half assed lunatic and drive like a fully blown crazy person." he'd wanted to say, "crazy ass bastard who'd been sucking on a bong for far too long,' but didn't.
Instead, he smiled like he'd said it, and held onto the girl as Dante sped up.
The breaks squealed to a halt before Vergil kicked the door open, earning a sharp look from Dante, before the younger did the same.
Both shouldered the doors cloased, arms being preoccupied, and carried the girls in bridal syle.
"Oh, my..." breathed Kyrie as she stood to her feet.
She eyed both brothers then said quietly "I'll get some medical supplies."
Nero's eyes followed the auburn haired songstress before he yawned and stood up, taking the ice pack from his head, reavealing a very blue bruise.
"What happened to you?" asked Nero and Dante together.
Nero jerked his thumb at Trish, who was swinging her feet on the desk, and Dante nodded back at the girl who Vergil was settling down on the couch.
"She happened to me." they both grinned.
Trish stood and blocked Nero's veiw of the girl.
Nero sighed and held the ice-pack back up to his head, covering the nasty bruise.
"I'm off to bed-"
"Nero.." said Kyrie quietly, at his side.
He smiled softly down at the girl.
"Would, um....Would you help me with the sewing of the girl's wounds...?And Lady's....? I don't really like blood." she confessed.
He offered her a reassuring grin.
"No worries, no worries at all, Kyrie."
Dante rolled his eyes and layed Lady down on the couch opposite, and noted that both girl's were lying in the exact same position.
One arm raised to their forehead, the other settled on their stomach.
Trippy. he thought, then turned and almost ran into Kyrie.
"Sorry, babe."
"My fault, Dante." she smiled.
Nero went to her side and narrowed his eyes at Dante.
"How many times have I told you not to call her 'babe'?"
"A few. But I'm sure you'll tell me again." Dante rolled his eyes.
Nero opened his mouth to retort hotly when Kyrie layed a hand on his arm, causing him to look at her blankly.
"It his habit, Nero. No worries, rememeber?" she sent him one of those smiles that made his heart melt into a pool of wobbly-knees, sweaty-hand and butterfly-stomach syndorme.
He smiled and took a breath.
"Yeah. You're probably right, you know."
"I know." she said softly, turning her eyes to the girl at hand.
She made her way over to the shaking, sweating woman and heard Nero gasp.
"Nero-?"
"Oh, shit, Charlie!"
The girl hiccuped at the name and forced one lazy eye open.
"Nero man! Leave me the hell alone! Go away, and remeber my day doesn't start until lunch time-" she groaned.
"Charlie! Wake up!" he was at her side in seconds.
The girl- Charlie -forced the one crazy green eye to focus and blinked it hard until all the sleep had gone away.
"Nero?"
She launched herself up- a move that didn't agree with her stomach- but what did she care?
She was just about hugging the life out of her highschool sweetheart and was loving his scent again.
"NERO! OHMIGOD!"
"Charlie! What in the hell are you doing here?!" he bellowed, picking her up with her still attached to his neck and swinging her around in circles.
She laughed, and pulled herself away, before sort-of, falling against his arms and looking into his eyes.
"Shit, man. You got tall."
"I was always taller than you." he teased, poking out his tounge.
"Unless you plan to use that thing-"
"-Put it away." they finished at the same time, grinning madly.
"Oh, hell, that was the funniest-"
Charlie had just gotten started when Dante cleared his throat.
"Excuse me? Sorry to break up the big reunion, but how in the hell do you know-?"
"Kyrie?" Charlie spoke over the top of him, spotting the young woman.
"How'd you know her?" Nero asked in a kind of nervous wisper.
Charlie rolled her eyes.
"Puh-lease, Romeo. The amount of times you worte to me about, and I quote-"
Nero clamped a hand around her mouth and one around her arms, forcing the girl to bite him.
He shook the injured hand, and wined.
"Ow! That really hurt!" she spun away from him clumsiliy, due to lack of blood, but spotting his minor injury her face turned angered.
"Jeasus, what the hell did that?"
"I could say the same for you." he pointed at her bleeding gut and she covered it with an arm.
"Hell, Nero. You still hunting things that bump your bedstand?" there was humor there, though no one but him got it.
"No." he chuckled, wiping a hand over his face.
"Then what did that?"
"She did." he said simply, pointing at Trish and certainly not considering the consiquences.
"Right." she stated coldly, glaring at the blonde.
"Get me my sword! I'ma kick that bitch all up and down the street!"
Trish laughed fakely and stood.
"I'd like to see you try, sugar."
"Is that a challenge?!" she growled, advancing.
Nero picked her up with his one demon arm and sat her back on the couch.
Somewhere between hugging and reminising, Vergil had had enough and got to his feet.
"Hey!" she yelled. Then seeing the arm added. "Well, hell. That's new."
"You like?"
"I love! Where do I get one?" she asked with wide eyes.
"You can't."
She gasped like a little kid. "Can I have yours?"
He laughed and sat next to her, one leg propped on the other.
"If you think you can beat me for it."
"Oh, baby, I know I can beat you for it." she smirked, wanting the challenge.
But a painful twitch from her gut had her doubled over.
"Aw, HELL!" she screamed into the ground.
"Lean her back, Nero, I'll have to sterolise the wound!" said Kyrie sheepishly, gathering what she would need.
Charlie paled and wispered something to Nero who shook his head.
"Naw, I don't think so."
Charlie breathed easily after her reasured her.
She tried to stay still, but there was no way.
Everytime her stomach twitched, it would have an effect on her entire body, sending her, cussing, face first between her knees.
Now all they had to do was fix her up, goo as new.
Aw, hell.
The girl with the wild green eyes bit her lip and took the outstreached money from the offering man.
"So, what, he's like- big bad? Demon? 'Cuz I don't do the human killing thing..." she trailed off as the man glared her down.
He made her nervous, which was weird because she was not some one that intimidated easiliy.
"Okay, big bad, demon. I can dig it." she offered the man a small grin, and backtracked around her desk, counting the waded money.
She had to act cockier than usual, it seemed to be the only language men understood.
Confidence.
Along with revenge, vengeance, it seemed all the men that came to her had issues of some manner.
"Any preferances as to how the dude dies?" she tried again with the conversation- she needed specifics.
"As long as he's dead. And stays dead, I could not care less." he growled.
Charlie got the impression this guy had better places to be then in her tiny little office, talking to her about some random demon.
"You got a name for this demon? Any.... Discriptions?" she waved a hand around airily, pursing her lips in thoughts and letting the six rainbow barbwired styled bracelets, two black hair ties and funky purple watch slide from her wrist down her left arm.
"White hair. Blue eyes. Medium bulid.Always doned in a red. Trench. Coat." he said harshly, spitting the words through gritted teeth. Then regaining his cool composure, he continued. "I believe they call him the 'saviour's son'."
"Yeah....rings a bell or two....I'll figure it out and send his misery you're way."
The man grimaced- like his own version of a twisted smile- and stepped back into the shadows.
"Tell him Arkham gives his regards."
She looked up from her money. "Will do-"
Hang on.
"Uh....Hello?"
He was gone.
"Well, hell. He moves fast."
She shrugged, and tucked the money safely into the bottom of her shoe.
Shaking a black watch, a red watch, four blue bracelets and one chunky bangle up her right arm, she pulled out the last bottle of hard alcohol left in the house since her last binge.
Over a space of about an hour, she drank almost half.
She shuddered as the cool breeze of 'something else' wafted through the gaps between the boards she'd put up on her windows, thanks to a hyper active demon named Roul.
Sighing, Charlie flicked dark curls away from her crazy green eyes and removed her sword from directly behind her desk- a dark grey one made from a melted down metiorite with dimonds set firmly in the handle- named Defiance.
Difiance shone as the moonlight hit the blade.
Charlie let her crazy green eyes wonder to outside, pushing the plank of wood apart and staring through the gap between it.
"Well hell, you nasty ass bastard," she muttered to herself, reminding herself dumbly to get some bigger weapons and taking another large gulp of alcohol.
She slit the boards that was her window, and kicked it to peices.
It had the desired affect on the massive two headed demon, who turned and growled at the approaching woman.
"Let's dance."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Ah, hell! Demons or no demons, it's time for a holiday!" Charlie hissed through gritted teeth, yanking a large glass fragment out of her ribs and setting it down on the tray next to her, watching with grim eyes as the pool rolled off the glass and pooled around the sharp shards.
She flicked the news on, easing herself off of the desk and going over to sit in front of the television.
"...And in other news, a man has been accused of using exploseives to blow up half of down town's subways. The man has not yet been aprehended, but witnesses claim he was tall, young with snow white hair and blue eyes, medium build wearing a red trench coat and brown jeans. One of the only surviving witnesses, the only one that hasn't succomed to acoma, claims the man battled with a large creature resembling a worm. Police have dismissed the claim as post truamatic stress disorder from the event."
Chalie frowned as the T.V continued to yap on about witnesses and such.
She had no interest in them, merely the man in question...
White hair? Blue eyes? Medium build? Red coat? And the one concious witness claims there was a demon.
So, the guy she was after was most likely a demon hunter, or he was a giant worm in disguise.
Demons didn't hunt their own kind. But the giant worms that did actually on occasion roam the subways didn't transform into humans.
"You shouldn't sit so close to the T.V, you know." said a smooth voice from behind her.
She turned slightly so her face was half hidden by the leather of her favorite purple jacket, and rose an eyebrow.
"You could get square eyes." he finished, walking in with a bounce in his step.
She grinned and turned to face him fully.
The grin she wore so cockily fell.
Medium tall.
White hair.
Blue eyes.
She eyed him wariliy, then offered a small, easy, I'm-going-to-kill-you-soon grin.
He caught on.
She could feel it in the air between them- a demon.
He rose a brow and took a few steps towards her desk.
"So you know what I am...?" he questioned cooly, watching her stride across the room and bolt the door closed.
She rolled her shoulders then her neck, preparing for the battle ahead.
"Hell yeah I do. You must be the 'son of the saviour', am I right?" She turned and gave him one of her famous half smiles, sexy, but dangerous.
It made most men- human men- melt.
He shot her a suggestive look in return.
"You bet. I see you've done you're reaserch?" it was more of a question, the way he spoke, sifting through a few files on her desk with his where abouts, history, habits, jobs and even relationships printed neatly on each page.
She may live like a pig, but one thing Charlie could not stand was a messy desk.
She eyed Difiance that was sitting on the wall behind his head, the one he hadn't seemed to notice.
This case had consumed the girl- she'd given up all other jobs, left her office sign on closed and lived off of the money Arkham had given her.
"Of course. Wouldn't want to go out in the big bad world half cocked, now, would I?" she pouted, a trick she'd learnt early on in life- most cocky, arrogant bastards were a sucker for a cute face and measly wimper.
"I'm just a girl, after all."
He grinned.
"So, you were planning a hit on me? Not a good way to make friends..."
"I'm complicated." She said airily, hoping to focus on why he was her more than anything, so she could get that damned sword.
A nd plus, she was ment to be following him, not the other way around!
"So, you found me...What were you planning once you got here?" She proded the question carefully, looking at him with soft doe eyes.
But his eyes were on the files in his hands.
"Mia....Mia,Mia, Mia....Oh! Mia! I remember, had a tattoo on her rump....It was such a nice rump..." he flicked through the pages quietly murmuring under his breath.
His eyes widened.
"She said that..?!" he looked down at his crutch, then through the pages again.
"Freya...? God damn I must've been smashed that night...Look at the nose onit!" he pointed as though someone from behind could see, squinting down at the page and raising it to his eyes.
"Weird ass little mofo said that? Sheesh..." he threw the papers on the desk, and ran a hand over his face.
"What you must think about lil' ol' me, huh?" he grinned in her direction.
She pouted, once again going all I'm-so-scared.
"I don't judge a guy on his....uh....girls." she couldn't help but laugh a little. There was about three men in there who the guy had obviously thought were girls. The men all agreed that he did have a feral way with words.
"Well, from most of these it makes me the bad guy...But you should've asked just how satisfied they were." he purred, opening his arms wide and roaming around her side of the desk.
She sighed and rolled her eyes.
He was just too full of himself to pay attention to her right now, so her 'I'll-distract-him-to-get-the-sword-from-right-behind-his-head' plan was safe.
She hated that! No fun!
Pouting for the final time, she took what seemed to be a few cautious steps forward and gazed up at him.
Finally invading his bubble, he shut up and looked down at her with wide eyes.
"I thought you were a demon hunter?" he said smoothly.
"That dosen't mean a girl don't get lonesome." she watched his face and raised hands to sit around the back of his neck.
"Uh...well, I mean, sure, but we're supposed to kill each other, remember? Wouldn't be very cool if we got attatched, you know?"
"Aww, I know." she wispered, backing him forcefully into the desk.
He stole a glance downwards then shot his now mischivious eyes you to her.
She wispered everything that she knew he'd want to hear in his ear, causing him to shift and swap positions with her.
Now she was pinned to the desk.
Hating herself, she wrapped legs around his hips to pull him closer and felt her own body offer a reaction.
Damn.
Well, she thought dimly. Maybe I don't 'hate' myself...
His breath was hot on her throat, trailing the most gentle of kisses to the collarbone.
She licked her lips and pulled his head up so they were face to face.
He seemed a little dazed, a little worried he wasn't impressing her, but the famous half grin she gave him a clued in a hint.
"What did I miss?" he asked, lips inches away from hers.
She let her head loll backwards to see she was staring at Difiance.
"Damn. You had me goin', for a second there, babe." he grinned, pulling her tighter in his grip so she sat up.
She laughed and thumped him lightly on the arm.
"Oh, man. I'm sure going to miss you when you're gone, sweet heart. You were fun."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
She replied simply by slipping her legs up and out of his grip and kicking him forcefully in the chest.
He stumbled back, and when he looked up, both the girl and the sword were gone.
"Oh, no fair, babe. I like 'em fiesty, a little hard-to-get. But this is taking it too far-"
SMACK.
She swung out of no where, hanging from an exercise bar in the roof that no one really took the time to notice.
She hit him fair in the jaw, then flipped down, sword drawn and grin half cocked.
"C'mon, Dante. You gotta be faster than that!" she smirked, readying her stance.
"Oh, babe, you have no idea what you're up against." he shot back smoothly, drawing his own sword and readying his own.
She sent him a half-grin, and attacked.
Their swords met in mid air, sending sparks flying back at their owners.
The force of the impact sent both markmen/ women flying back.
He fell with a grunt.
She landed with a yelp.
Injured, she got to her feet swaying. Blood was seeping from inbetween her fingers at her alredy injured stomach, dribling down to pool at her feet.
The other hand was raised, sword pointing at him dangerously.
"You made me bleed on my favourite jacket! Not cool, man. Do you have any idea how much leather costs to get dry cleaned!?"
"Well excuse me! But look at this!" he winged, holding out the back of his own scarlet jacket.
It was burnt all around the edges, charred from the recently flying sparks.
"Blood can be removed, but this is permanent." he grumbled.
She flew at him again, swiftly dissarming him of his blade and holding the sword to his throat.
"Like I said. You were fun. I'm going to miss you." she smirked. The humor didn't reach her eyes, which were cold with the task in mind.
"Arkham sends his regards." she said shortly, watching his reaction.
"Any last words?"
"Yeah." he said blankly.
She cocked an eyebrow.
"Dodge it."
"Dodge-?"
BANG.
The butt of a gun, no doubt about it, swung from behind Charlie's head and sent her forward.
Not one to go down with out a fight, she swung around with a small grunt and sliced the perpertrator through the stomach, watching the blood seem through the lady's shirt and run down.
"Lady!" exclaimed Dante, stepping forwards.
Lady seemed dazed, falling to her knees.
Charlie stole the oppertunity to crawl away, head spinning.
"G-Get-"
"Lady, stop talking." Dante ordered.
"Sh-She's- gettin-g A-way!"
"I know." he said smoothly.
Charlie'd heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
"Aw, hell!" she hissed.
Never one to dissmiss company, it hurt her that she worked alone.
She had no one to fall to, no safety net, no drinking buddy.
No one to tell her it didn't matter their victim was escaping, because she was hurt and that was all that mattered.
"Dan-Te!!"
"Don't 'Dante' me, Lady, you're going to pass out soon, and that whack to the head won't let her get far."
Charlie was already out the door, and got to her feet, swaying.
The sword, it seemed, was making it hard for her to balance.
She looked at it blanky, wondering why there was yellow and green spots on it.
"And plus, Lucia is out there anyway."
Charlie stopped looking at the sword dumbly and shot her head up.
The red headed huntress eyed her dimly.
Aw, hell.
"I....I take it...." she jerked her thumb in the direction of the couple behind her.
"You're with them?" she stabbed the sword into the ground and leaned on it as a crutch.
The woman nodded, raising two blades of her own.
"Oh, c'mon, missus." she winged, shaking the fuzzy vision from her eyes.
"You gonna battle me too? Cuz that dosen't soon...wait..." she held up a hand and corrected herself nodding. "Seem, to sit well when I kick all you're asses."
The woman visably tightened her grip on the blades, and took stance.
Charlie winced, pulling her blade out of the ground, and clutched her side a little tighter.
"C'mon then." she teased, finding her famous half-grin from somewhere amongst all the pain.
"Let's dance."
The woman, nodded, stepping further into stance, then flew at her.
Charlie was clumsy with the sword now she could barley see two feet infront of her, but her footwork was still embedded deep within her mind, and she took pride in it, making it hard for the woman to keep up.
She was good, Charlie was prepared to say, but worked only on attacking with the blade and not her feet.
Charlie, on the other hand, struck out with the blade and when that was disarmed took it in her stride to kick out at the woman before retreiving her sword.
"C'mon...That all you got?" she slurred, watching the woman pick herself off of the floor and wipe a trail of blood from her mouth.
A figure in her door way caught her attention.
She couldn't see that well, but a blurred man carrying a bridal style woman made her smirk.
"Aww, hell. You guys are SO cute..." she said swaying, sending the blade into the ground as a crutch once more.
"Shouldn't you be unconcious?" he snapped, making it obvious of his anger towards her actions.
She rolled her eyes.
"Shouldn't you be unconsious?" she mimicked, watching as he strode closer until she could see him. "What happened to making friends?"
She watched his eyes flick up then down again.
She took a sharp breath then heard the very air moving behind her.
She yanked the sword from the ground with wide open eyes and held it above her head in defence, having to use both hands as it was getting heavier each time she tried to swing it.
The ring of clashing metal alone sent her ass first into the ground, but she held the sword strong.
She swapped hands - being ambidextrus with her swordfighting- as the main hand was vibrating from the prior impact.
She glared and stood, forcing the blade away from her throat and getting into the face of her opponent.
"Hey, weren't you just wearing red?" she hissed, forcing the blade closer to his throat, crazy green orbs glaring into the ice blue eyes of her new ememy.
"No." he said blandly, forcing the blade back, sending sparks flying.
She smirked and deftly slid the sword down to his hand, trying to disarm him, only to have him step back to gain advantage.
She too, stepped back, attcking once more, throwing eveything into her stride as she went forwards.
He side stepped her, she countered him, vision needing a harsh shake before swinging the sword only to have him deflect it, turning her with impact.
Back facing him, she fought from both the sides of her, hearing the sword before it struck.
She threw it up, knowing her head would be the next place he swung at, and turned to punch him in the face.
He had caught her sword, and took the attack to his nose gracefully, stepping back a step.
Now she was dissarmed, Charlie had no option but to fight hand to hand or go down quietly.
Scratch that.
Charlie had no option but to fight.
She snarled and struck out at him again, feeling hard jaw under her knuckles.
He criss crossed the swords, and held them at her throat.
Now staring into the icy eyes of her attacker, she understood he'd have no problem killing her.
"Aw, hell......See now, that, that was not fair." she muttered under her breath, seeing the mist land on his sword, which was atop of hers.
She eyed the sword, then placed the name, make and status of it.
Charlie was impressed.
And worried.
And passing out.
"Ver-j-il, do not kill her." said a heaviliy accented voice from behind them.
Charlie sent him a famous half-grin and watched a trail of blood run down his nose and onto his lip.
She lifted a hand slowly, feeling everyone tense.
Except him.
He just looked into her eyes, testing her, daring her to touch him.
She rose it to his face- where she had struck him only moments before- and knuckled the trail away from his lip.
He watched her face.
She watched his.
Marksman to markswoman, he lowered the swords.
She let her eyelids droop, feeling him calm her with something she didn't quite understand.
"Okay, Dante. I am unconscious....right about...." and them she dropped.
Vergil watched cooly as the woman who had touched him - the first physical touch that wasn't an attack from a woman in years - then dropped the swords and caught her before she hit the floor.
He was being watched by all of them and he knew it, but didn't care.
One handed, he picked up his both his and her swords and tucked the under his arm before settling her into his arms more carefully.
"Are we going?" he asked coldly, turning after he wasn't being followed.
Dante sent a smirk in his direction and followed.
He was going to hear nothing else but his constant torment for the next fiffty years, he just knew it.
Vergil settled down in the back of the bright red sports car and eyed the swordress in his lap.
Braclets, bangles and watches doned tiny wrists.
Hew knew why- a marksman was judged on the strangth and speed of his style- the sword was just a sharper extension of the arm. If there was a weakness, the marksman should do everything in his-or her- power to stop the opponent from knowing it.
But if that something was bone structure... then they were to hide it.
He supposed the girl would be faster if the objects were removed, but she wouldn't know just how fast and overshoot her mark.
And besides, he thought, oddly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she was a bother enough with her speed and footwork without him aiding her to get even faster.
Dante handled Lady gently, shifting her into the front seat to keep an eye on her, and put his own jacket on the door frame so she would have something to lean against.
Shirtless, he sped home, hoping Lucia had Lady's motorbike down pat. Lady wouldn't kill her if she crashed it, she'd kill him.
Dante eyed his silent brother from the reveiw mirror, who was looking down at the girl in his arms.
"So, Verge-"
"Not tonight Dante." he snapped, shooting him a glare.
Dante nodded, expecting the attack.
"Not tonight, but tommorow is another day." he grinned.
Then suddenly serious, he asked "You know swords yeah?"
Vergil looked at him with the words 'well, duh' on the tip of his tounge, but refused to speak.
"Well, The girl, when we fought back there-" Vergil glared, cutting him off. "What?"
"This injury, the one that's bleeding all over the back seat-"
Dante almost swirved off the road.
"-This wasn't caused by Rebellion, it was caused by something much thinner and for a different type of material."
"I didn't know she was injured!" Dante said hotly.
"And yet she dissarmed you and bested you in the way of the sword."
"She fast! You fought her, she's good!"
"Tell me what you were going to say, Dante." he said impatiently.
"Well, we were fighting right? And she came at me, murder in those freaky green eyes, right, and out of nowhere- when our swords connected, these lights flew all over the joint and sent me 'n' sleepin' beauty flying backwards!"
"That was the first time the swords connected in battle?"
"That was the first time the swords connected."
Vergil frowned, hearing lots of tales about swords that bucked their owners but it was rare.
He had never witnessed nor been on the other side of the blade when it happened.
He would do further reacherch on the subject however, in light of recent events.
Like him getting hard when the girl clutched his pants, murming something incomprehendable.
She gave a little moan- which wasn't helping the situation- and snuggled deeper into his leg.
Dante, noticing his brother stariing wide eyes at his lap, opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short.
"Don't even go there, Dante."
"Verge? What's-?"
"Don't. Even. Go. There."
"Are-Are you-?" he turned around in his seat to look at his brother's flustered and flushed face.
"Blushing? Vegre, why you blushing?!"
"Dante, the road." he said calmly, motioning with his eyes at the window.
Dante kept watching him with intense eyes.
"Verge, why are you blushing?"
"I am not blushing, Dante!" he snapped, voice becoming dangerous.
"Now watch the road."
Dante, never one to pry, pulled to the side of the road and turned around to face his brother in the seat.
"I'm not starting the car until you explain."
"Lady is bleeding out."
It hit home, and Vergil knew it. But being the stubborn ass of the familiy, Dante pestered on.
"Verge, just say why you're blushing and I'll keep going."
Vergil grinded his teeth together, surpressing the blush until he was controlled.
"I am not so lame as to go red. It is a stupid human function."
"But you were blushing-"
"Dante." he growled. "Drive home."
Dante was about to answer hotly when Lady grumbled in her sleep.
"Dante, get the damned pizza box away from MY yellow sock, you pig."
Both brothers looked to her then each other.
"Dante! I swear to God-" Lady said some other much more violent words ending the scentence with "-It'll leave you're ringhole burning for a month."
Dante burst into laughter, turning the key in the engine and revved the car.
"As you wish. m'Lady."
Vergil rolled his eyes about how easiliy the younger had forgotten about his little human slip up.
He'd made it a habit of expressing human laughter- one summer's night when Dante was ass drunk and was singing about being a barbie girl- and had chuckled at every stupid thing he'd done afterwards.
He had subconciously hated himself for it, even if he was enjoying himself.
This was not hell, and he had the right to, but he didn't-- just in case.
The grip on his pants tightened until he realised that the girl was acctually in pain.
Her face was screwed up, sweating profusly, and every muscle that he waved a hand over seemed tense.
"Dante, you are'nt going fast enough." he muttered, leaning over the girl to inspect her wound.
It was bad, and she had fought with it.
"Foolish human woman", he cussed under his breath as he lifted the girl's shirt to inspect the damage further. "Why didn't you stop when you felt the pain, stupid whore?"
But Dante, who could read Vergil's lips,sharply looked to the mirror hearing his brother swear, which was funny to say the least, because Vergil had been bugging him about swearing just the previous day, and almost crashed the car when he saw his brother checking out the sleeping girl.
"Woah, Verge! Take it easy!"
"Dante these wounds are deep. You need to stop driving like a half assed lunatic and drive like a fully blown crazy person." he'd wanted to say, "crazy ass bastard who'd been sucking on a bong for far too long,' but didn't.
Instead, he smiled like he'd said it, and held onto the girl as Dante sped up.
The breaks squealed to a halt before Vergil kicked the door open, earning a sharp look from Dante, before the younger did the same.
Both shouldered the doors cloased, arms being preoccupied, and carried the girls in bridal syle.
"Oh, my..." breathed Kyrie as she stood to her feet.
She eyed both brothers then said quietly "I'll get some medical supplies."
Nero's eyes followed the auburn haired songstress before he yawned and stood up, taking the ice pack from his head, reavealing a very blue bruise.
"What happened to you?" asked Nero and Dante together.
Nero jerked his thumb at Trish, who was swinging her feet on the desk, and Dante nodded back at the girl who Vergil was settling down on the couch.
"She happened to me." they both grinned.
Trish stood and blocked Nero's veiw of the girl.
Nero sighed and held the ice-pack back up to his head, covering the nasty bruise.
"I'm off to bed-"
"Nero.." said Kyrie quietly, at his side.
He smiled softly down at the girl.
"Would, um....Would you help me with the sewing of the girl's wounds...?And Lady's....? I don't really like blood." she confessed.
He offered her a reassuring grin.
"No worries, no worries at all, Kyrie."
Dante rolled his eyes and layed Lady down on the couch opposite, and noted that both girl's were lying in the exact same position.
One arm raised to their forehead, the other settled on their stomach.
Trippy. he thought, then turned and almost ran into Kyrie.
"Sorry, babe."
"My fault, Dante." she smiled.
Nero went to her side and narrowed his eyes at Dante.
"How many times have I told you not to call her 'babe'?"
"A few. But I'm sure you'll tell me again." Dante rolled his eyes.
Nero opened his mouth to retort hotly when Kyrie layed a hand on his arm, causing him to look at her blankly.
"It his habit, Nero. No worries, rememeber?" she sent him one of those smiles that made his heart melt into a pool of wobbly-knees, sweaty-hand and butterfly-stomach syndorme.
He smiled and took a breath.
"Yeah. You're probably right, you know."
"I know." she said softly, turning her eyes to the girl at hand.
She made her way over to the shaking, sweating woman and heard Nero gasp.
"Nero-?"
"Oh, shit, Charlie!"
The girl hiccuped at the name and forced one lazy eye open.
"Nero man! Leave me the hell alone! Go away, and remeber my day doesn't start until lunch time-" she groaned.
"Charlie! Wake up!" he was at her side in seconds.
The girl- Charlie -forced the one crazy green eye to focus and blinked it hard until all the sleep had gone away.
"Nero?"
She launched herself up- a move that didn't agree with her stomach- but what did she care?
She was just about hugging the life out of her highschool sweetheart and was loving his scent again.
"NERO! OHMIGOD!"
"Charlie! What in the hell are you doing here?!" he bellowed, picking her up with her still attached to his neck and swinging her around in circles.
She laughed, and pulled herself away, before sort-of, falling against his arms and looking into his eyes.
"Shit, man. You got tall."
"I was always taller than you." he teased, poking out his tounge.
"Unless you plan to use that thing-"
"-Put it away." they finished at the same time, grinning madly.
"Oh, hell, that was the funniest-"
Charlie had just gotten started when Dante cleared his throat.
"Excuse me? Sorry to break up the big reunion, but how in the hell do you know-?"
"Kyrie?" Charlie spoke over the top of him, spotting the young woman.
"How'd you know her?" Nero asked in a kind of nervous wisper.
Charlie rolled her eyes.
"Puh-lease, Romeo. The amount of times you worte to me about, and I quote-"
Nero clamped a hand around her mouth and one around her arms, forcing the girl to bite him.
He shook the injured hand, and wined.
"Ow! That really hurt!" she spun away from him clumsiliy, due to lack of blood, but spotting his minor injury her face turned angered.
"Jeasus, what the hell did that?"
"I could say the same for you." he pointed at her bleeding gut and she covered it with an arm.
"Hell, Nero. You still hunting things that bump your bedstand?" there was humor there, though no one but him got it.
"No." he chuckled, wiping a hand over his face.
"Then what did that?"
"She did." he said simply, pointing at Trish and certainly not considering the consiquences.
"Right." she stated coldly, glaring at the blonde.
"Get me my sword! I'ma kick that bitch all up and down the street!"
Trish laughed fakely and stood.
"I'd like to see you try, sugar."
"Is that a challenge?!" she growled, advancing.
Nero picked her up with his one demon arm and sat her back on the couch.
Somewhere between hugging and reminising, Vergil had had enough and got to his feet.
"Hey!" she yelled. Then seeing the arm added. "Well, hell. That's new."
"You like?"
"I love! Where do I get one?" she asked with wide eyes.
"You can't."
She gasped like a little kid. "Can I have yours?"
He laughed and sat next to her, one leg propped on the other.
"If you think you can beat me for it."
"Oh, baby, I know I can beat you for it." she smirked, wanting the challenge.
But a painful twitch from her gut had her doubled over.
"Aw, HELL!" she screamed into the ground.
"Lean her back, Nero, I'll have to sterolise the wound!" said Kyrie sheepishly, gathering what she would need.
Charlie paled and wispered something to Nero who shook his head.
"Naw, I don't think so."
Charlie breathed easily after her reasured her.
She tried to stay still, but there was no way.
Everytime her stomach twitched, it would have an effect on her entire body, sending her, cussing, face first between her knees.
Now all they had to do was fix her up, goo as new.
Aw, hell.