tampered | (no subject)

(no subject)

When; Durr. Probably February 20th
Rating; PG for posterity's sake, since I'm sure these two have mouths on them.
Characters; Lady (

quamserena) and Nero (

rev_it_up)
Summary; Consider her many offers for food successful?
Log;

She'd be used to his presence filtering from the City by now, off and on. He seemed like the type not to be bounded in place, always did what he pleased. That was fairly normal and by now the girl would just reason it was for the better. Hell, she was damn near obsessing over the concept that the other demon hunter, her partner in crime for lack of better words, was at home, fulfilling his promise. It was a fluctuating series of events in this building now, with all that had happened to Meryl and the rest of her lot, Lady had kept herself preoccupied with the loudest company she'd been around.

It was a way of focusing on other things, when she hadn't have stormed back underground, slinging Kalina Ann over her shoulders and blowing the fucking vermin into hell, so much that her ears would be ringing the time she came out. Besides, there was no point in lamenting on it further. While Meryl would be in the better hands of Vash, it gave her a better opportunity for that matter to brush up on her weapons. Clean them out. Frequently. So she was a bit of a clean freak, when it came down to it.

Evidently she felt confident enough to leave some of her weapons sprawled out on the coffee table, not even finished with reassembling the damn things as of yet, crudely shoving a metallic case preserving more of her ammo underneath the said table with a bare foot. For now, she was going to keep that out.

After all, Lady loved to pride herself on keeping her guns in perfect functioning order and the cleaning was needed ever so desperately.

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So this city? Not unlike Fortuna and the outlaying areas, in that... well, when you got lost, you got really lost. This wasn't just a 'round a corner, hit a dead end' deal, either. It was a, you turn a corner, turn another corner, end up back where you started, and make all the same choices all over again.

It didn't help that Nero's sense of direction was practically non-existant. He was starting to seriously consider pulling out his gun and shooting the shit out of the walls to mark his passage when - by the grace of half a dozen gods who's names he couldn't pronounce, let alone believe in, there he was.

Aimless wandering for the win.

Even so, he hesitated, reviewing what he knew of Lady, because... well dealing with Agnus - hell, dealing with Sanctus had given him a bit of new perspective on things. Look before you leap. Or work for creepy ass cults that want to use you and your girlfriend to make a statue of your maybe-relative sentient and Godzilla-esque. He wasn't even quite sure he trusted Lady yet - so far he didn't know a whole lot about her, asides the obvious - being from the same world, knowing Dante and all.

... And that she was upset about Dante not being around.

Nero? Not so good with people. There's one person in the world he can read - and she's not in this world, but Kyrie had always been an empath. She'd probably know how to cheer Lady up way better than he would. They'd probably like, do each other's hair or something like that (not that he could picture Lady doing anything like that, honestly, but when it came to 'girl's night out' type deals, he had no clue what was the norm. Chickflicks? Male bashing? Shrug).

Well, he didn't do hair. Didn't watch movies much, either. But there was a patch of Dandelions growing along the wall - bizarre, for February, and he remembered Kyrie telling him once that yellow meant friendship, and what the hell, it was just plain cheery. So he plucked one, and went on his merry.

He didn't get lost going up the stairs. Probably a good thing. Nor on the way to her door! Awesome. He'd kick this learning curve in the ass yet.

He also made the executive decision to knock first. Because Lady, by all accounts, was a chick with a gun. And demonic healing powers or not, he didn't fancy getting shot accidentally. "Hey, Lady?"

Acting like a normal, much more functional "chick" apparently was beneath her. The only thing that would seemingly sedate Lady, comparable temperament to a wild badger, would be another adventure. Underground. Knight complexes be damned, she would likely find herself under there, whether it be a cure for boredom, frustration, or just...

Well. Brooding. She was always one to pride herself to deter farther away from such an image, sneering and looking down at girls who even remotely voiced emotion in a much more normal way. And that, was liable to be some odd little fixation, the weird little details that Lady was sure she covered up nicely. Perhaps she liked priding herself on being a little ball of anger and violence.

Though that was never the case, most of the times. Case in point, an attempt to present hospitality, that even Kalina Ann would beam proudly in. The little details of her mother -- she liked to keep them, even if she looked at these things as weaknesses, girly little things. And, really, when it came down to it, who could resist a meal of lasagna? Oddly enough, a gun-toting, short tempered demon hunter could be a fairly decent cook. Kalina Ann had made sure enough of that detail. It was a shame too, Meryl would be missing out on Lady's odd bouts of cooking. It was comforting, and hell, it managed to keep Dante from whining and carrying on like he did.

Idiot. Turning sharply on a heal, from the living room, Lady strode her way, trying to compensate for acting normal by at least trying to act not even a bit relieved that the young man came back in one piece away from from Vergil.

"Tch," Lady hissed while finishing off a small snack, a thin breadstick in her mouth, almost like a cigarette. But still, that generous hospitality didn't waver. And the click of the locks (yes, locks, damn paranoia) Lady greeted him with her perma-scowl, yet a gentle voice that countered it.

"Welcome to my parlor," A lame attempt to being friendly, or have humor. She scoffed at herself, standing aside gesturing to beckon him in over the threshold, "Go ahead and come on, make yourself at home."

Though she was trying not to be obvious in the way her blue and red eyes swept up and down to see if any injuries were visible from Vergil.

Nero rubbed at the back of his neck with his right arm, holding out the flower with his left. Measley little offering, sure, but the sentiment behind it was as sound as any. "Happy, uh, Wednesday."

Yeah. Best opening ever. He smiled, a little crookedly and stepped inside, taking note of several things at once. Holy shit artillery enough to sink a battleship. Holy shit Lady was shorter than he'd thought she'd be. And...

- And good goddamn, if that wasn't the best thing he'd smelled in-- in-- well, seeing as how he hadn't had a shower since he'd arrived in the 'City' and hadn't eaten in equally as long a time, the food sure as hell smelled better than him. He couldn't even think of anything to compare it to. Food. Hungry.

God, he was practically a zombie. A hungry, angry, food-deprived zombie for whom anything Itallian was the high-carb alternative to gray matter.

"That smells amazing," he said, in what was very nearly a gush, trailing absently towards the kitchen.

Pleasantries? Greetings? 'Hi, I've never even met you before but we've talked a lot, how's it going'? Yeah. Totally unnecessary in the face of food.

"What?" She blinked, turning to him, and- ah, what was that? Dandelions? Really, now. Actually, that might have been a bit adorable to her, after reminding herself she failed to recognize that in the first place. "Thank you?" Really, now, she could do better than this or at least make it a point to try so hard.

There could have been a string of awkwardness, sure, Lady could feel something to that effect. Nuisance, if anything, offering some what of a strange glance, but then trying her damndest to shrug it off.

Not without light teasing, on the side of things, a small smirk touching her lips, "What? You don't have a sword through your head yet?" She made a point to turn back to look at him directly in the eyes. There was a bad habit on Lady's part of not looking someone directly in the eyes when feeling awkward or angry.

"I'm impressed, I thought you would be literally coming back as a cockroach by now," Teasing aside, it was a relatively good thing, never willing to admit Captain Batshit, whom she failed to mention also lived at the top level in this very building. Nope, this detail was going to be graciously omitted from Lady's conversation.

There it was, an honest to God laugh from usually a humor-deprived Lady, a smile curling on her face, even going far as to waving a finger, "See? Wouldn't you do much better with food in your stomach? What would your woman say?"

Men. Figures. The lack of common sense to seek out food and for the fact women were a constant reminder of failure. Or at least this was in her eyes, not a great amount of an experience with men, outside of Dante. And only spoke in volumes.

"I'll just- is it safe to assume those little flowers are for me?" The tone in her voice going softer than she ever wanted to be.

Nero got about halfway through the apartment when what he was doing occurred to him, and he turned around abruptly, folding his hands behind his head. "I most definitely do not have a sword through my head yet. Never mind all the attempts - what is it with the people here?"

Okay, so far he'd only really tangled with Vergil - everyone else seemed to be all talk and only moderate amounts of action. And he wasn't going to complain about. Honest. As much as Nero had insisted he didn't back down from fights - God, sometimes he wanted to.

But, hell - he'd got his crazy demonic arm for a reason, maybe he was here for a reason too. And if that reason was taking down all the nasty shit on the town, well... no rest for the wicked, or something.

"Kyrie'd probably tie me to a chair until I had a full course meal or something," he said dryly. Which wasn't quite true. Having Kyrie worry about him would be more than enough to make him park his ass in a chair until he was fit to explode.

He proffered the handful of dandelions again. "Yup! I figured you could use a little cheering up."

Though he didn't say why.

Dante was nearly the same, she reminded herself, yet it usually involved a lot more protests, frequent bickering between the two. And maybe her blood pressure, which yes shouldn't have risen at her age, would fluctuate. Yet his presence, as in Nero, wasn't all that of a bad thing. An odd stress reliever or something to that effect! Just what she told herself to keep her mind off even the most minuscule things.

An apathetic shrug at best, she didn't even bother to even pester or confront Nero further on any injuries, figuring by now that would be kicking a dead horse, "Cute," Lady had to stifle a small laugh herself. There was something oddly endearing about someone bringing dandelions to you...

She took them, no less, trying to still maintain a level of casualness, and hey! It even came with her way of showing affection, by means of offering a small tapped fist against his arm, "I said to make yourself at home." Complete with a waggling finger, the handful of flowers in one had.

Yes, she'd find a vase...or something. Yes. Attempting not to scramble away, she broke from the side of the other white-haired man, to the open kitchen, giving the ammo case another nudge, "You know," Lady started off on what may or may have not would have preludes to a tangent. Where upon she would just settle for leaving the bundle of flowers by the ungodly amount of weaponry. And odd clash, if you will, but it worked for now.

"I'd like to hear more about home from your perspective, if you don't mind," She gave him a side glance tending back to the food in the kitchen, trying to force a gentle expression.

When it came down to it, everything was serious business. She would never admit up to this point talking to Lucia in passing she was grateful Dante had kept his promise in a very sappy way. Bad form, that, gushing over someone.

Nero arched an eyebrow at her. "So what, do I gotta take my boots off, or just start leaving dirty dishes all over the place then?" Even so, he unslung his sword - which he leaned against a wall - stripped off his coat, balled it up and threw it like a basketball in the general direction of the door. If that wasn't 'making himself at home' he really, really didn't know what was.

He mentally bet himself five cents she'd either make him pick it up, purse her lips, or threaten him.

Buuut, for the time being, might as well get the expository bullshit out of the way. He pulled up a chair at the kitchen table, spun it around and straddled it, eyeing all the hardware laid out before him. He decided to add to it - pulled the Blue Rose from his holster and set it out on the table as well. It could probably use a cleaning, too. He hadn't since before... well, before that accident where his arm'd gotten hurt.

"Well, I don't know how much I can tell you," he began slowly, "I didn't get out a lot. I was more or less the hatchet man for the 'Order of the Sword', a Sparda worshipping cult of crazy. So my life from the time I was fourteen was pretty much 'go here, kill that, blah blah'."

He'd never really believed in the 'Savior' the way the others had. Credo was stalwart in his belief, Kyrie was faithful in hers - Nero had mostly take it all as a joke. "So for the world itself, you're kind of out of luck. I rarely left Fortuna, and when I did, it was to go to some remote place where there'd been a demon sighting. I worked alone and didn't ask too many questions. We could have been living in a giant space bubble for all I knew."

He sighed, draped his elbows over the back of the chair. "So that's pretty much 'home' to me. Demon wise, we never had anything too tough, until things like Berial showed up. Hellgate wise, Fortuna was on top of one. Temen-Ni-Gru wise, seems like it was about twenty years before my time, I'd never really heard of it - the higher ups probably didn't want to tarnish the 'Sparda Is Great', rhetoric they had going on. Dante wise..." he gentled his voice as best he could - which was fairly well, actually, considering his heritage, "well, I've told you that much."

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