abraxaslogs | [CLOSED] who let dante out of his cardboard box

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[CLOSED] who let dante out of his cardboard box

Who: Dante + others
When: Throughout June
Where: Thorne, Horizon, Nocwich??
What: Closed starters
Warnings: Emotionally stunted middle-aged man

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[ Nero is usually just brimming with his thoughts and feelings, always to the point of boiling over and wearing them on his sleeve. That's definitely not something he would have gotten from Dante's side of the family, that's for sure. But what it tells Dante is something important--that he had an environment growing up that allowed him to feel. That's a good thing.

And that's also what makes it more apparent when you've wronged him. Dante and Vergil are so in the habit of trying to keep things as much under wraps as possible to the outside world--...well, at least until Vergil does something that ultimately puts that world in danger and Dante is forced to step in. But their interpersonal conflicts?

They'll bicker. They'll fight. They'll come to some sort of understanding until it all flips up again. But they will never apologize.

What goes on between them isn't something apologies can make up for or change. So what's the point?

Nero goes on and Dante listens, making a note to check out said hot dogs at another time. Reminds him a bit of his own domain where he installed the convenience store buffet up on the loft. He accepts the coffee with a nod and turns it around so the chipped portion isn't what he's going to be drinking from. Sure, he could will it away in the Horizon, but this is Nero's space. He's not so callous as to change any aspect of it.

It's kind of a way to get to know what Nero remembers, what Nero deems as important. This chipped mug? It's got a history. So it stays as is.

Home.

Home where Nero isn't, but where he should be. Dante falls quiet for a moment as he tries to think of how to move forward with this. He fills that silence with an audible slurp of the coffee--it's hot, it's black, which isn't how he likes it, but...it's fine.

Finally he settles on... ]

How long's it been since you showed up here?

[Look, he's lucky he got the coffee at all. He's lucky he's here. But since Dante doesn't say anything about it -- even if Nero knows it's sort of garbage coffee -- he's willing to give Dante more time. A little bit of leeway.

For Nero, he just grabs a bottled soda from the little mini-fridge, after kicking some cracked demon horn out of the way.

The silence is deafening. It's not the first time he missed that flying fuckin' chatterbox. But he doesn't show up. It's just Shadow, laying over his shit, following him like -- like a goddamn shadow.]

How long? [Another question he doesn't expect. Why's it matter? He doesn't like thinkin' about it. And now he does, it's like... it's like his stomach's fell out of him. Nero stops what he's doing, rubbing his face. Does time really go that fast? (Is anyone even still waiting?)]

Over a year. [His voice cracks, and he keeps his back turned to Dante.] I hadn't even realized.

[ It matters. It matters because it's a symptom of something larger, right? Dante not figuring out that Nero had been there in the first place. It'd taken months for the two to cross paths and Dante knows that's mostly because without someone to push him to it or a greater disaster that puts everyone at risk, Dante is all to content to just lay back and lay low.

For as much as he makes small joking complaints about the place, Thorne has been much too accommodating. He doesn't need to work for a place to sleep, food to eat, for running water. He's got it.

But family needs more than that. Emotional labor that Dante had equally grown used to being rebuffed. The only time family came up for most of his life was when there was a problem. Dante had people around him--Trish, Lady, Morrison,...hell, even Patty--to pull him out of it. People much more full of motivation and life when he was all too content to just exist and pretend not.

So his attempts in Abraxas have gone down the shitter. It's been a year--a whole year with Nero around, and what's he done about that? A year they may never have gotten back on their world. ]

You've been getting on pretty good for a year.

[ He knows people, he's made something of a home for himself. He keeps busy. Unlike Dante, Nero isn't the kind of person who watches the world go by.

Dante's gaze shifts up to look at the ceiling like he's watching the stars. ]

I guess that's why I never bothered to visit.

[The last thing he's about to do is lose it in front of Dante, but. But. It's a big but -- the but that he's been keeping his mind off of the whole thing, and not counting the days beyond how long it takes him to finish something. He's added to this world, and taken away from it, and he's not even a single step closer to going home than he has been since he shook the water off.

Nero shrugs with one shoulder. Sure. Maybe. He's got buddies now. Something resembling a fucked up little family that all share a tree. They've pulled away from the main settlements, he's survived the pit, survived being human, and gotten a shorter temper out of it.

But he's still not where he's supposed to be. Kyrie and Nico -- for fuck's sake, they probably think he's dead.]

So you decided to not be around 'cause you fucked up and pissed me off? [For Nero, the tone isn't as sharp as it could be. It's almost pitying, actually. 'Cause yeah, he's got friends, and Wanda and Himeka got a league of their own, but now that he thinks about it, the only one he knows who knows Dante is Thancred.

Not that Thancred's bad. He seems chill, actually. But that still isn't a lot. Well. Geralt, too. But Geralt's never brought Dante up to him except the once, so he's no clue if they're close or not.] Funny. Kind of like how you and Vergil decided to ditch me the second I found out I had a family, and made the entire world my problem. Must run in the family, makin' decisions for everyone else.

[Nero pauses, looking out the window. The van might not have anything around it, for the most part, but now outside there is a sky, dotted with stars.] Guess I never made it easy for you to swing by, either.

Edited 2023-07-06 04:42 (UTC)

[ He wishes there were a bit more fire in that accusation--well, not so much accusation as accurate description of exactly what's been going on. Hearing it come from someone else makes it seem like a much less sound argument even if at the heart Dante knew it was stupid. It's avoidance--avoiding what could potentially go worse because he was afraid to lose it.

For being a guy so bent on having a family, Dante is really shit at knowing what to do with it when it's actually presented to him.

He doesn't regret keeping the secret of Vergil from Nero if only for his own safety. But he does regret not doing more about...everything else. Here. In this world. This world where they only obligations they have are the ones they choose, Summoned status be damned. Dante barely does anything about it.

Dante sighs, brows furrowing for a moment. His voice is also devoid of his usual humor, but he still manages: ]

Got it in one.

[ He isn't going to hide it. The entire point of coming here was to check in on Nero and to come clean.

It would be easy to let Nero shoulder some of the blame, sure, but Dante knows the burden is really on him. Nero has reached out. He reached out when he needed Dante the most. ]

Nah...wouldn't have mattered.

[ He made the concerted choice to keep his distance, once again figuring it was the best for Nero, but also because he felt bad. Guilty.

Dante finally lowers gaze and levels it out on Nero, still holding the cup of hot coffee, barely touched. ]

You asked for help and I couldn't deliver.

[ No jokes, no games. Just one failed uncle and a nephew who deserves better than the cards he's been dealt. ]

I'm sorry. Nero.

[Doesn't really feel like this conversation's going anywhere. Blaming Dante for shit -- even if he did fuck up -- it's not changing anything. Guess that runs in the family too, actually.

He doesn't need to ask. If there's a resemblance. Sometimes he thinks he saw enough in V to tell.

At least a part of him.

Another shrug. He doesn't look away from the window, but Shadow, she sits in the corner and watches Dante. Not with hostility or wariness, but with a cool, accepting calm. All the little bits that exist in Nero, free-floating, but that never meet and become some solid thing.

It's only the next thing that does it.

It's like everything around the van holds its breath and takes that in. Nero's head slowly turns, and he meets Dante's eyes, brows furrowed.

That. Now, that. He doesn't need to know anyone to know that's never run in the family. If it had, maybe things would've never gotten to the point they did in Red Grave. He's not even sure what to say. Struck dumb by the sincere simplicity of it. Nero has never really given a shit about words, because most of the time they don't mean anything. He's only ever needed actions to back them up.

He rubs his nose, dropping his arm from against the window.] I don't care that you couldn't help. [Be pretty hypocritical of him when he couldn't even manage to get out with his own power. Nero knows that island fucked with them, down to his very basic biology. He'd only reached out out of desperation.] What bothers me is -- what matters -- [He punches a fist into his other hand.] Is the only thing that you needed to hear was that I was alive. I guess you heard I made it out... and that was enough.

[Not a thought. Not a single message. Nero was alive, and that was good enough. Didn't matter what he'd gone through, or what he'd survived, or who he'd watched not survive, or if he even felt anything about it.

He was alive. And he'd move on, right?

And if Dante wasn't gonna bother, then why would he?]

[ Dante isn't sure he believes that. He knows Nero well enough to know that Nero reached out to Dante because he'd hit a point of desperation. Maybe of fear. Because Nero is a guy who does things on his own accord with his own power. He's built his self-worth and identity on being someone who can protect others, so what does it mean if he can't protect himself?

His lips form a thin line, but he listens. He thinks. He knows the real issue is how he's let Nero down as a person. Man to man. Uncle to nephew.

"The only thing you needed to hear is that I was alive... and that was enough."

Hearing that hurts more than he wants to admit. His fingers tighten on the already chipped ceramic of the mug and he needs to remind himself breaking the thing isn't going to make this better. His instinct is to leave, to wave it off and say "yeah I'm just a shit person like that, I guess" and go back to his hole and pretend everything is fine. Make a joke of it. Just keep pretending.

Just keep pretending every day of his life like he isn't living in some damned nightmare. If it isn't Vergil's shadow, is the face of every demon he's ever crossed flashing in his mind's eye. They're waiting for them back on their world. Abraxas is practically a vacation.

Dante exhales forcibly through his nose.

One breath at a time. Because this isn't for Dante...it's for Nero. ]

...This guy named Reno helped kick my ass into gear. Then you reached out to Thancred. So we went out with Thancred to track down what we could of the last steps of one of Thorne's missing Summoned. Nice kid named Mat. Figured you ended up in the same place.

[ He presumes Nero became acquainted during their mutual incarceration. ]

Then you reached out to me, so I knew you were still hanging on. When people started filing rank for the attack, I guessed you would've busted out being sick of the place and all. So I left for the mountains.

[ A huff as a smile almost settles on his lips, but it disappears quickly. ]

I should've figured you'd stay behind. Couldn't leave anyone else down there, huh?

[ No, Nero is too good a person for that. ]

When I heard what went down on the island...

[ There's a long pause. Dante had lingered in Nocwich for a while, knowing that many of the Summoned were seeking medical attention there. And there was really only one person he was lurking around for despite how fond he's gotten of a few others. There's only one Nero. ]

I stuck around to see how you were getting on. But I also assumed that you had enough to work through that you didn't need one more person letting you down to add to the pile.

[Oh, man. Fuck. He was really not ready for this. Maybe this is why guys like Geralt drink. To get out of -- of feeling this way. (Though jury's still out how much Geralt really is bothered by his shit. If you ask Nero... he doesn't think it's possible he's not.)

The world's spinnin' all out of place. Dante's in his van and talking about shit that matters, instead of making jokes about stuff that doesn't. The fact he's even still here. Yeah. Nero can respect that, too. If there's one thing that's dependable, it's that Dante never sticks around long.

Not when things get uncomfortable.

But Kyrie -- even if he hasn't seen her, touched her, for way too fucking long, she would've torn him apart if he didn't push this. If he let it go and left, too. If he just pretended that being abandoned not only by his father, but by his uncle too, hadn't affected him in the least. Not in the fucking least.

There's no need to doubt yourself.

He's not sure she's right on that one. Then again, thinkin' that is just proving that he does it in the first place.

Nero doesn't interrupt. He thinks he might've heard the name before, but at least he knows Thancred. Knows he was the one who got the message Dante was supposed to. When he'd been at the end of what he was able. When he'd been starting to swallow he would die in the dark.

He still doesn't really get it. He doesn't get why Dante doesn't just say that. Why he didn't jsut say it in the beginning. If he was doing all of that -- for him -- then why wouldn't he bother fucking following it up? Just a hey, sport, how's the sun treating you? It's the difference between a single thought and absolute, shattering silence.]

You would have, too. [He stares Dante down. He's sure of that -- no doubt. Dante might be a lot of things, and they might be entirely different, but... yeah. He's sure of that. If their places had been switched, Dante wouldn't have left those people down there, either.

Nero runs a hand through his hair, falling back into his seat as every coiled bit of energy winds itself out. An exhalation. Maybe that's all he needed. To hear he even gave half a shit.

Even if he's a stupid bastard about it.]

You gotta stop assuming. You're enough of an ass. [Dammit. Maybe he's picked up some annoying habits from Dante. After all this time.] Yeah, I've got people. I've always had people. [People who made sure he wasn't a corpse. That the mushrooms hadn't eaten him from the inside out. That picked up the pieces when he got back home.] But you are the only one I've got here that's family. That's blood. That understands what it fucking means to be -- to be whatever we are. That means something. Maybe not to you. But it does to me.

[ Dante doesn't like explaining himself to anyone. It's not that people aren't owed it, it's more that he's...just. Sometimes he's tired. Sometimes he's disappointed in his decisions. Sometimes it's just too much. This? It was all of the above. And there's nothing quite like letting down family to encourage Dante to curl back up into the safety of his cave.

But Nero is definitely owed it. And, strangely enough, even if he's admitting to his missteps along the way, it does feel a bit better to actually share it. It doesn't make up for it, but maybe at least now Nero can know that he was far from the last thing on Dante's mind--

--he was the reason Dante got involved in the first place.

Thorne's problems are Dante's problems, he's made that clear from the start. If he's not getting paid then he isn't getting out of his seat. But Nero? Nero's a different story all together.

You would have too. Dante does huff at that. For as much as he doesn't want to get involved, he doesn't think the Summoned deserved what happened to them. They're people--people need help.

He doesn't have half the answers Nero wants, he knows--no, he assumes, because Nero hasn't asked him all he wants to know yet. That's the problem right there, isn't it? Dante figures he'll let Nero down and cuts it before it can come to fruition. Before something good can happen. ]

I'm an ass.

[ He agrees with a gruff sigh. ]

But I guess you're stuck with me.

[ He's got to let Nero make that choice of whether having Dante around is good or bad for him--and he can only make it if Dante is around.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he holds the cup between them. There's another long pause as he stars at the settling surface of the cooling coffee. ]

...The only family I've had for the past few decades has been at the end of my sword.

[ He glances back up towards Nero with his lips in a thin line. ]

I'm man enough to admit I'm a little out of practice.

[Nero waves a hand. It's not that bad when it's a quality all of them have. Nero's an ass, too, and he knows it. He's always had people to remind him when he is, too. But he'd rather have an ass around than nobody. Dante had Lady and Trish. He had Nico, Kyrie. And maybe... maybe in another world, where he wasn't such an angry bastard, they could've had V -- Vergil, too.

Part of him still misses him. V. Like he's still... someone else.

Yeah. They're stuck.

Nero gets up, only stopping to clap Dante on the shoulder. If he doesn't do something to break this up, he really is gonna jet.] Way beyond time for something new, old man. [He means that literally. Dante's feeling like a few hundred years old. And lookin' it.

He knows he must mean that literally. Nero might've stopped them from killing each other (the only way he knows how), but something really fucked had to have been between them. Dante had been ready to take him out. Vergil, too. It's not something that pops up in a year or two.

A few decades. Shit.

He pours himself coffee to have something to do.] Maybe you'll tell me about it some day.

[It's an offering. A reason for Dante to show up again, or for him to go to Devil May Cry. Something that connects both of them beyond the demonic shit. Maybe neither of them wants it, but Vergil's still a connection. And if he has to use it to try to keep them together... then he will.]

[ For as much self-deprecating humor as Dante can be prone to, it's not an admission he makes easily. His true shortcomings, born of a very, very complicated game of cat and mouse.

He isn't exactly sure what to expect when Nero stands, but the non-confrontational pat of his shoulder and quip in return is a relief. He let's out a huff and rubs his stubble in a sort of self-soothing manner. ]

So you think an old dog can learn new tricks, huh?

[ He finally takes another drink of his coffee. It's cooled down considerably, but he's drank much more questionable blends at much more lukewarm temperatures. (Talk about days sitting in the pot.)

There's a pause as he drinks then a slow nod as he lowers the mug from his lips. ]

Maybe.

[ From anyone else it may sound like an out, but from Dante, it's an agreement. There's plenty to tell... and it won't be pretty. ]

Did you know your old man's fashion sense hasn't changed in over twenty years?

Maybe even dead-ass ancient ones.

[It's what Kyrie would've encouraged, if she was here. He knows that. It's why he did what he did in the first place -- well, not entirely. But he was so sure his choice was right. And he still is. Nero might regret a lot of things, but he doesn't regret stopping the two of them from killing each other. No matter what would've caused it in the first place.

Maybe even Vergil recognized that. Not sure what else he would've bothered thanking Nero for.

Maybe even that asshole could admit he'd made mistakes.

Nero slurps the coffee without a pause. He's had worse. Mostly at Dante's, but after the first time he'd learned to just not eat or drink anything there.

Huh. If Dante's not taking that as an out for the moment, maybe he will get something out of it. In the past, he would've pushed. Would've said it's the least Dante owes him, when he's the only one who knows fuck-all about Vergil now that V's gone. The least Nero can have is something, anything, about who his father is.

But he's learned. Pushing doesn't get him anywhere. It just makes everyone clam the fuck up.]

And yours has? [He bumps his boot against Dante's. Not that he knows, but he can definitely guess.] At least you ditched the chaps.

[ It's not that Dante wants to kill Vergil--far from it. It's the last thing he wants to do, but it's also his job if it needs to be done. How many times has he tried to turn the tide only for Vergil to turn him down at the last second? There's a big part of him that isn't sure how long the tenuous truce they have in Hell will last. As much as he doesn't want to be stuck in that eternal loop, he still misses his brother.

His stupid brother who does nothing but cause him trouble. How many lives have been lost in Vergil's pursuit of power? Of his sense of self?

It's fitting that Nero was the one to finally knock some sense into him--literally. At least for now. Maybe that's just what he's needed all this time--to see that he can create something good for once.

The quip about his own fashion sense pulls a little smirk out of him as Dante lifts his chin. ]

I was just thinking the other day I should bring those back.

[ Was he actually, who knows? He raise a cheek brow in Nero's direction. ]

Vergil would fit in well with the cravats in Thorne, but chaps would really endear me to the common folk, don't you think? A little bit country.

Don't you fuckin' dare. [But, for Nero, the threat is almost... good-natured. At least it will be everyone in Thorne's problem, not his. 'Cause after this, they're still going their separate ways. He'll only see Dante in the Horizon.

Not that Thorne could stop him, if he made his way over there. That, Nero would bet on.

But the memories of the pit do linger. Of being so human, some days he'd just laid there and slept, without energy to even plan on taking another cultist out with him.

He snorts between one drink and the next.] You're fucking with me. He did not wear a goddamn cravat.

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[CLOSED] who let dante out of his cardboard box

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