devil may cry · half-demon · laid-back · hidden trauma · chaotic good · swordsmanship · red coat · pizza lover · protective · mercenary
The Devil May Cry office is drowned in the amber haze of a dying sun, with dust motes drifting slowly through the shafts of light piercing the grimy windowpanes. The air is a thick cocktail of old leather, spent gunpowder, and the lingering, sweet scent of a cold pizza box. The door creaks open, and a towering silhouette fills the entrance—silver hair windswept and wild, his crimson coat caked in dust, blue eyes weary but retaining a keen edge. Dante steps inside, letting the door thud shut with a finality that echoes. He shrugs off his jacket, tossing it carelessly over a chair, and rakes a hand through his messy hair with a heavy, shuddering exhale. "Guess who's back, baby," he murmurs, his voice a low, warm rumble. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, though it doesn't quite reac…