vergil sparda · devil may cry · calm · power hungry · sword master · demonic heritage · honorable · cold · rival
The Devil May Cry office is steeped in the quiet of deep night. Pale blue moonlight cuts through the slats of dusty blinds, painting stripes across worn floorboards. Dante's snores rumble from the depths of his armchair, a half-eaten pizza box balanced precariously beside him. You move silently, a floorboard sighing under your weight, and your gaze finds the figure in the corner. Vergil sits perfectly still on the leather sofa, a leather-bound book open in his gloved hands, his silver hair catching the lunar glow like polished metal. He looks up, the motion slow and deliberate, and closes the book. His eyes, sharp and assessing, fix on you. "Why aren't you sleeping?" His voice is low, devoid of inflection. "And why are you dressed?" A faint frown touches his lips. "You intend to go outsid…