#pale dmc shitposts

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Well, season 2 was a mixed bag as expected. Though I'm not here to bash it or any new fans. I'm tired boss.

Just wanted to point out a cool detail I couldn't unsee, how in some shots Dante looked a hell lot like Eva. Kinda wholesome...

It makes sense since Dante is more in touch with his humanity.

And I'll stretch that extra mile and say Vergil looks a bit like Sparda. The guy is embracing his demonic side so the animators chose the resemblance. Cool stuff.

Or maybe I'm just delusional and seeing things.

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If someone had told Nero that Vergil—the semi-king of the Underworld, crowned by the Qliphoth’s power, the man responsible for causing an apocalypse not once but twice—would be trusted alone in a room with three hyperactive kids, Nero would’ve laughed himself to death.

Yet here they were: three boys the couple had adopted, rushing all around, and Vergil—Vergil—still there, instead of vanishing into thin air like Nero half-expected the first time he was stuck with babysitting duty.

The boys, of course, treated Vergil like any other adult unlucky enough to be within arm’s reach. They tugged on his coat, demanded games, peppered him with questions. Vergil handled it with the same unreadable mask he wore in battle, though every now and then a flicker of confusion cracked through.

Like the time they tried to explain hide-and-seek.

“How can you not know what hide-and-seek is?” one of the boys had asked, eyes wide as if Vergil had just admitted he didn’t know what candy was.

“I might have known this… game at one point,” Vergil had replied, voice calm but distant. “It has been a long time since I played it.”

“You’re just being old again,” another chimed in.

The trio had laughed at that, but Nero had seen something else in his father’s expression—a shadow of memory. He didn’t know all the specifics, but he knew the twins’ childhood had ended abruptly, brutally, the night their home burned. Hide-and-seek might have meant something very different to Vergil after that.

That suspicion was confirmed another day, when Nero came back from a shopping trip to find the youngest boy tugging at Vergil’s coat tails, staring up at him.

“I dun wanna be short anymore. No, I wanna be tall as you.”

Vergil frowned, icy eyes scanning the boy. Most adults wilted under that cold scrutiny. But the boy never did. He was already used to Vergil’s long pauses and stiff manner.

“Once upon a time, I was your height. I found it to be advantageous in some aspects, and debilitating in others.”

“Adven-teg-vous? Deb… lib… uh…”

“Favourable. Convenient—” He paused, then amended more plainly when he noticed the boy’s growing confusion. “Good. It was good in some ways, terrible in others.”

“What’s good in it?” the boy pouted. “Others only make fun of me.”

Vergil’s gaze turned distant. “It was useful to squeeze into tight spaces where no one else could reach.”

“So like hide-and-seek?”

“…A version of it.” His words were deliberate, as though choosing which doors of his memory to keep shut.

It was surreal watching a man who could barely figure out how to act, well, human, slowly find his footing with the kids. Right now, that meant a death glare at a pair of shoelaces. One of the boys kept tripping up, his laces unraveling every other minute.

Finally, Vergil stopped the boy by firmly grabbing his shoulders. Without scolding, without comment, he leaned down. His long arms reached around, fingers catching the offending laces and he began a slow, patient lecture, demonstrating the process of tying a shoe from the boy’s perspective over his shoulder.

“Take the laces. Cross them over and pull them down. Then make…” He hesitated—Nero could almost see him flipping through a mental catalogue of demons for comparisons, before discarding them. “…rabbit ears. Hold them. Cross them again, but don’t tighten yet. Loop the ears under the second time… then tighten.”

The second shoe he left for the boy to attempt himself. Tiny fingers fumbled, tied, failed, tried again. Each mistake was met not with frustration, but with steady correction, Vergil guiding the small hands until at last a solid knot was formed. The boy’s grin stretched wide as he bolted back to his brothers, shoes snug and secure.

Nero shook his head, finally stepping forward. “You’re probably the last person I’d expect to teach anyone how to tie their laces.”

Vergil’s lips curled into the faintest, sly smile. “Someone had to teach Dante how to tie his shoes.”

“Oh yeah?” Nero snickered. “So who taught you, then? Or are you about to tell me you were born the brightest kid on the planet?”

Vergil stilled, brow furrowing in thought. For a long moment, Nero wondered if he’d answer at all.

Then, quietly, Vergil said, “Sparda taught me.”

Nero blinked. For all the legends about the Dark Knight—the savior of mankind, the very god Fortuna worshipped—not one of them mentioned him crouching down to show his son how to make rabbit ears out of shoelaces.

Vergil’s eyes slid to Nero’s boots. “It appears you too could use a lesson in tying proper knots.”

Nero nearly choked, quickly looking down at his loosened shoelaces. It wasn’t his fault the damn things had a habit of falling apart. He was a grown man, dammit. He could tie his own shoes.

But the thought stuck anyway—that this simple knowledge had been passed down from Sparda to Vergil, father to son. And now Vergil was eyeing his very much adult son, quietly calculating the logistics of leaning over Nero for demonstration.

Nero scratched at his neck, suddenly feeling way too much like a kid. “Yeah, well, you’re not hovering over me like that.”

Vergil’s mouth twitched. “Hardly a challenge. I instructed Dante in this skill only recently.”

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'This isn't good cop, bad cop. It's two idiots.'

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Why is Vergil so cold to Dante in DMC3? 

Well, I got my own headcanon for it.

In the Devil May Cry novel, there's Gilver—a fake copy of Vergil created by Mundus. Gilver gets up to no good, messes with Dante and eventually tries to kill him.

That got me thinking... What if Mundus played the same cruel trick on Vergil? What if he made a fake copy of Dante?

At some point after the Sparda manor fire, a young, traumatized Vergil finds his 'little brother' alive and well. After losing everything, Vergil is overcome with relief. He doesn't care about their past bickering, he's just happy to hold onto the only family he has left. So they become inseparable.

Vergil gets to be an older brother again and becomes fiercely protective of 'Dante', always looking out for him. He opens up, lowers his guard and cares for him in a way he would for no other.

Vergil trusts him. And it makes it all the easier to drive a dagger into his back.

When demon attacks get more frequent and aggressive, Vergil doesn't think twice. It makes sense, the twins are together so the demon scum don't have to split up their efforts to pursue them. He has no idea he's being tracked from the inside.

Eventually, the trap is sprung.

The 'Dante' he has bled for, fought for, and loved with everything he had left turns its blade on him. All that warmth Vergil allowed himself to feel is turned to ash. He is forced to fight his way out of the ambush and kill his brother's mimic.

After the dust settles, Vergil—bleeding, broken and completely hollowed out—gently slides the clone's empty eyes shut.