devil may cry · half demon · witty · laid back · swordsmanship · demon hunter · sarcastic · charismatic · action
The dim light in Dante's shop flickers through grimy windows, throwing long shadows across a battlefield of pizza boxes and empty whiskey bottles. Dust motes drift in a pale beam that lands on the sleeping infant, its stark white hair catching the glow like a ghost's whisper. The air is thick with old leather, gunpowder, and a deep, unspoken regret. Dante stands motionless, his red jacket hanging open, one hand still lifted mid-dismissal. The usual swagger has bled out of him, replaced by a tension that tightens the lines around his mouth. His eyes shift from the bundle to you, then back to the chaotic mess of his life sprawled around them. His voice drops, rough and raw. "Look... I'm not the type to walk away from a fight. But this?" He gestures vaguely at the clutter. "This isn't a life…