you have no idea what i'm capable of (warhorse) wrote in dustofnations,
you have no idea what i'm capable of

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30 Somethings - Thrillers: 017. Lipstick

Fandom: Devil May Cry
Title: Drastic Measures
Author: Amanda/warhorse
Theme: Thrillers: 017. Lipstick
Pairing/Characters: Vergil and Dante
Rating: PG-13 for language and brother-on-brother fighting.
Disclaimer: I do not own them. Something tells me Vergil's glad I don't. exorcism was nice enough to pick the prompt and hash out the idea with me. So. Blame her for the crackiness of it. Also, this is the same set of twins I'm writing for my Paranormal 25 challenge, set post that challenge. Mm, yes.
Summary: After Vergil decides to bid the (soon-to-be) shop Devil May Cry goodbye, he learns that his little brother isn't going to take abandonment lying down. Instead, he's going to retaliate. With lipstick. Guess who's allergic to it?

It wasn't karma.

Vergil would insist that until he was as blue in the face as his formal jacket. It wasn't karma, because he'd done nothing to deserve anything of the sort. That was what he told himself, when he awoke well past noon with a migraine from hell and something sticky and gross all over. He didn't give what it was a second thought, being far too groggy and with his head throbbing relentlessly, as he climbed out of bed on numb legs, one arm complete dead weight where he'd inadvertly slept on it.

He couldn't remember what he'd done the night before, but by God, he was never doing it again.

It was a long, shuffled trek to the bathroom, and he found himself staring into the mirror without really seeing his reflection, until his eyes decided to focus, and for a moment he was dumbstruck at what he found staring back at him, slack-jawed and squinty-eyed. It wasn't the dark circles under his eyes, because he was used to seeing those. And it wasn't the way his hair, still swept upward and back, true enough, had been forced straight up in the front where he'd apparently scrubbed his head into the pillow. No, instead, it was the pink and glittery word written across his forehead. And it didn't take a genius to figure out who'd done it. Dante was dead.

Vergil reached up to scrub at the word, a blasphemous 'foreskin' written in large letters in what was obviously his brother's childish scrawl, and while the pink and glittery mess smeared, the word itself did not disappear. He pushed that aside a moment, instead rubbing the stuff between his fingers, and felt the pads of them tingle and turn red, not pink, before it occurred to him what it was Dante had used to write it with. Lipstick. Of all the things his brother could have done, he had chosen pink, glittery lipstick.

Dead. So very dead. Dante could not begin to comprehend how dead, that was how dead he was, when Vergil got the shiny mess off of himself and figured out a way to cover up the word there on his forehead, which was puffy and hot to the touch, when he reached up and gingerly fingered it, leaning closer to the mirror to inspect the damage.

The longer he stared, the more everything else came into focus. There, along his cheekbones, were two pink, glittery arrows pointing at his nose. That actually made Vergil bare his fangs at his own reflection in irritation. Stupid little monkey, they had the same goddamn nose, and how dare Dante violate his face so. Especially so soon, naught but a week after, really, that Dante had climbed into his window and passed out on top of Vergil, more drunk than Vergil had honestly ever seen him.

He scrubbed at the arrows, as well, knowing it was futile, before slapping at the sink and cursing inwardly. There was only one thing to do, with such a violation: Kill Dante and hide until the marks faded. He pushed away and started for the glass-enclosed shower, stripping as he did so, already deciding how he'd do it. It would be something humiliating, and painful, and a death Dante deserved.

Not long after starting the shower and scrubbing at his skin until all of it was red and slightly puffy, did he begin to notice other things. There was an 'X' and a 'D' written over each nipple (dead), and, as he inspected lower, there, under his navel in blocky capital letters, were the words 'little Yamato', with an arrow along each hipbone pointing downward. It was at that point in time that Vergil felt it prudent to inspect said body part, as he did not put it past his little brother to vandalize and otherwise violate the most personal of personals, because he was a filthy, disgusting ape with no sense of dignity. And with all of his talk of Vergil 'molesting' him, it wouldn't shock Vergil a bit (though it would piss him off greatly) to know that Dante had, in fact, molested Vergil himself.

And there he stood, doing just that, when clunky footsteps approached from outside the shower, and when he looked up, eyes wide and not even thinking of dropping his hands from where he'd been completing his inspection, stood his little brother in all his shaggy glory; a wide, feral grin was plastered all over his dumb face, and in truth he looked a bit crazed. But Vergil had no time to wipe the horror of the situation from his face, or to make a move to clobber the idiot to death, as Dante made his move. The brat had gotten his hands on a camera, and it was brought up, and the next thing Vergil knew, he was seeing spots as the flash went off.

"Dante." Every bit of rage and mortification went into that one very loud word, and it was answered with more hurried, clunky footsteps, before Vergil heard his bedroom window slide upward. He stumbled out of the shower to follow, and by the time he reached his room, there was a flap of red leather on the other side, as Dante dropped from the frame to the ground, and then he was gone.

Dead. So very dead, was Dante, and Vergil stood there, dripping wet with his hands clenched into fists, naked as the day he was born. He was going to kill the little mongrel. He was going to kill him slowly and painfully. And, oh, Vergil was going to enjoy every minute of it.


It was almost a week later that Vergil finally decided to make his move. He'd started tracking Dante on foot, in the city, paying attention to nothing but the signal his brother projected to his senses as loudly as that stupid, damnable jacket of his. He'd stopped, momentarily, so as not to be sideswiped by a bus as he crossed the street, when he very well heard giggling, and he very well knew it was directed at him. It was confirmed when he glanced over his shoulder, and found someone with the brilliant idea to point at him, like he was some standing freakshow. That was Dante's calling card, not his own.

"What the hell are you staring at." It wasn't a question. It was a demand. Honestly, they couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen, but that was no excuse, as Vergil was only nineteen himself (though he always claimed he was much older). At that age, as far as he was concerned, they should have learned some couth.

"Hey, um." It was the brunette that spoke, and she looked so dirty. Dirty enough to make Vergil want to pull into himself to keep from being contaminated, but just the type, really, to do such a forward thing. "Aren't you that guy that rapes his brother on Myspace?"

That caused Vergil to pause and blank. "My what." Again, it wasn't a question.

"You know? The website? Are you retarded or something?" She gave a roll of her eyes before tugging on her friend's arm, to get her moving. "C'mon, Sandra, it is him. You know what that picture said."

"Gross!" came the reply, and for a moment Vergil considered going after them and killing them, as well, but took a deep, somewhat calming breath to stall it. Dante came first; everything else could be taken care of after the fact.

But he wanted to know just what in the hell a 'my space' was. Vergil, predictably, was not internet-savvy, therefore had never heard of such a thing, and if someone had seen him on it, he damn well wanted to know why. Which was why he started the trek back to the apartment, deciding Dante could waste the world's oxygen for just a while longer while Vergil investigated.


Vergil very quickly learned what Myspace was.

And when he discovered the truth of it, it refueled his desire to see his brother eviscerated, which was why he marched - literally marched - all the way to the ramshackle building his brother called a shop, and a place Vergil had been only too happy to leave, to do exactly that. His little brother would be no more, once Vergil got done with him. He'd seen what Dante had done, yes he had, and he'd seen the reaction (and had gotten stopped several more times along the street about the picture Dante had snapped while Vergil had been in the shower), and he'd seen the picture itself, with the caption 'poster boy for syphilis', as well.

And so, it was with triggered eyes and Yamato on hand that he moved to enter, not by opening the door, of course, but by kicking it in, and it detached from the hinges before flying inward, shattering against Dante's messy, scarred desk, a fragment of it flying wild and piercing one of the ridiculous skulls lining the walls right through the forehead.

"Dante." He wasn't going to allow it to be a fair fight, either. To hell with his honor system, Dante had committed a grevious error against Vergil, and he was going to pay. "Get your manorexic ass out here and face death like a man, wibbler. If I have to hunt you down, it's going to hurt worse."

His little brother had no intentions of running or hiding, however, and bolted through the main room of the shop, laughing his fool head off. When he reached Vergil, one hand swung out, landing a sickening slap against the side of his elder twin's face, and Dante just...Simply kept moving after the fact. He'd known what it was, the minute he'd heard the commotion from the kitchen, and he'd known what he had to do.

So it was with no apologies as he clamoured for the stairs, reaching back to yank at the pants that were threatening to slide off of his hips as he did so; he was slenderly built, not skinny, and Vergil couldn't have understood, being such a fatass.

The irony in that was the probability that they were, in fact, the same height, and without a doubt no more than fifteen pounds of one another's weight. But it didn't matter. Dante was skinny, Vergil was fat, and that was simply how it was.

For a moment afterward, Vergil simply stood there in the doorway, stunned into immobility by both the slap, and the crude, horrifying glimpse he'd received of his brother's asscrack as those pants had started to slide on a downward trek over skinny, manorexic hips. He was slow to shake it off, but once he did, he bolted after Dante, already yanking Yamato from its sheath, taking the stairs two at a time as the door to the back rooms of the second floor swung shut.

"I told you not to run." That door was kicked inward as well, as Vergil had no concern for the property since he no longer resided there. He didn't slow once, as he saw Dante flail and dart around a bend in the long, narrow hallway, and he put on extra speed, knowing damn well he was more than fast enough to catch him. His boots thudded heavily on the hard, worn wooden floor, as he heard the patter of Dante's own bare feet ahead, before a door slammed and the sound of a chain lock being slid into place followed. He honestly, honestly hoped Dante wasn't naive enough to believe that would be any sort of obstacle, as the reached the door and, after a moment's deliberation, shoulder slammed it.

The door was old, as was the chain lock holding it closed, and the thin metal snapped against the force of Vergil's weight, sending the door flying inward. Dante, inside, was already attempting an escape through the window, and Vergil had half a mind to launch Yamato like a spear and pin him against the wall, but then, he realized, he would have to endure the fool's whining until he could take his head and silence him permanently.

With a flap of red leather and shaggy white hair, Dante dropped out of the window, only to have Vergil follow right behind. His feet had barely touched the ground before Vergil himself launched from the perch there, and had made three good, wide steps in a run before something tangled in his hair and yanked him backward. He flailed, his arms catching Vergil in the face over and over, and Vergil realized his folly in sheathing Yamato before jumping after the idiot.

However, he had agreed with himself that all bets were off about it being an honorable fight.

Yamato was tossed upward and caught in reverse, as Vergil released Dante's hair and gripped it with both hands, raising it over his head. "Dead." He swung it downward like a club, putting all of his weight behind it as he did so, and grinned grimly as is hit its intended target: Dante's oversized, shaggy head.

Dante stumbled, letting out a string of curses as he brought up his arms to shield himself, as Vergil just kept swinging, the sheath thwapping loudly as it smacked against the leather of Dante's jacket. But that was fine! Dante swung out a foot, catching Vergil behind a knee hard enough to make it buckle underneath him, before swinging his own knee upward. It collided with a loud crack against Vergil's chin, planting the elder twin right on his ass there in the alleyway, as Yamato clattered to the ground and skidded to the side, just out of arm's reach, and once the stars stopped dancing before his eyes, Vergil glared up at Dante through still-triggered eyes.

"Now." The foot was swung out again, and Vergil made a grab for it, missing it as it caught him in the chest, knocking him flat on his back. "I know you love me, boopsie." Dante grinned, before planting his boot in the spot he'd knocked Vergil in the chest and leaning on it with all of his weight, before cocking his head to the side. "But I told you, baby, we gotta stop doing this. I still got marks from the handcuffs, and you told me you'd be gentle next time."

Vergil said nothing, realizing Dante's error in thinking it was over. While Dante gloated over him like an idiot, Vergil ran a few quick calculations through his head before snagging Dante by the thigh and tugging hard, sending the younger of the two toppling to the ground right there with him. His next movements were fast - faster than he guaranteed anything Dante could do - as Yamato was snatched up and Vergil moved on top of Dante, bracing himself there by his knees. Yamato was pressed as a brace against Dante's neck, pinning him there, and for a long moment he said nothing, but gave Dante a cold, hard stare with red-on-black eyes.

"Dante." Dante gagged in answer, and Vergil leaned a little more on Yamato. "If you ever. Ever. Do something so stupid again. I. Am. Going to kill you." Dante just wheezed with wide eyes, hands slapping at the ground uselessly as he searched for a way to pry himself upward. "Are we clear? I suggest, little brother, that you get over whatever sullen fit you are tantruming about with, and stop trying to get even with me for some imagined crime against your pitiful little self. We're done here." Another hard press against Dante's throat was given with the sheath, before Vergil swung upward to his feet, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

"And for God's sake, eat something, you pathetic, skinny bitch." And with that, Vergil turned on his heel to leave, as Dante gasped and wheezed behind him, while he attempted to pull himself to his feet. And, as he strode out of the alleyway (with a slight limp that he purposely ignored), he made a mental note to ward the windows of his residence against Dante, as a little extra insurance his brother wouldn't be so stupid as to do something like that again.

Tags: 30 somethings, dante, devil may cry, devil may cry 3, dmc, dmc3, thrillers: 017 lipstick, vergil
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