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Watching as the young man below him, the one in similar attire, was battling the demonic entity, he slowly rose to his feet, his steps clicked against the skylight abofe the fight, the mysterious young man glancing down occasionally, his pale blue eyes scanned to see if anyone had seen him, finding he was safe for a while...that is, until the glass beneath him had began to crack, the young man left with no time do evade, as the window seemed to give way, the young man falling towards the floor. The blade from his back detatched, with the speed its owner had been falling at, its tip now pierced an inch from the fallen demon's foot, the demon vanishing due to the other youth's gunfire, and his body continued to fall, though seemed to maneuvre into a flip before landing in a crouch beside his blade, picking it up as he rose back to a stand, his pale eyes scanned the patrons, as he nodded to both the similarily dressed man, and the girl he was with, placing the blade back onto his back.

Brushing bits of broken glass from his own jacket, he made his way to the bar's table, his youthful voice heard now, showing the mysterious teenager wasn't one to be taken lightly, his sarcastic tone now floating through the air. Hope you guys don't mind me droppin' in, but with the condition of this place, it's probably not the most brilliant idea.

Continuing along, some rather unusual attire came into focus, as he seemed to be dressed for a concert rather than a barroom lounge-about:heavy brown boots covered his feet, their top zippers left undone, though strangely, his olive pants seemed to be tucked in, though unknown how, with what his boots were like. On his hands there seemed to be a pair of black biker-styled gloves, open at the back, and each finger poking through its own hole, another hole shown at each of the knuckles as he took his seat on a stool, his body spinning a full turn before he halted, as though to order.

From what was seen during his 'spin', no shirt was worn, though his upper body was covered with a scarlet covered trench jacket, silver spikes along one of the shoulders, and a strange amulet swayed around his neck, the young man's hair a silvery white in tint. His pale blue, almost icy glare fixed on the bartender as his voice was heard once again, not an inch of sarcasm removed, as he placed his order, along with a usual comment before spinning once more to face the crowd. Pepperoni pizza slice please, and a pint of root beer. Also, mind seein' to the skylight ya got up there, it don't look to be the safest...and hell if I'm gonna pay for any injuries here.

The young man in blue walked down the road. The cool night air blew against his face, causing his long blue trencoat and slicked back white hair to fly. In his left, brown biker gloved hand he held the large samurai sword Yamato, edge up in it's sheath, it's twin yellow bands flailing in the wind.

As he enjoyed the night, thinking on recent events he heard a roar coming from the street a few blocks away. This wasn't an ordinary roar of two gangs fighting as he often observed, this was a roar of an unnatural being being killed. He allowed himself the luxury of a small, smug smirk. Changing his destination he sprinted off, leaving merely a blue blur as he sped toward the source of this scream.

Within a second the blue blur emerged again, outside a dank, dirty bar. This time the young man didn't smirk, instead he looked down his nose at this festering drinking hole. "The way they pull our name through the mud..." Vergil thought coldly as he walked slowly and pushed the door open to investigate what was going on...

Recieving his drink and pizza slice from the bartender, he suddenly heard the man dressed similar to himself as he had been speaking, his words somewhat cocky, like his own, but more toned down, as though he seemed to control it more, his eyes narrowing, raising the glass to his lips, spinning once more on the stool as he took a long, slow swig of the liquid inside, halting his motion on the stool, his feet raising into the air. Lowering them onto the bar's counter, he then took the slice of pizza, and began to eat, though, just as he was about to put it to his lips, he haerd the door fling open, only to find a familiar man walk inside the door, katana held at his side, and his silvery hair worn in its usual spikes. Knowing this young man, just by the silhouette, the young man set the slice down, as well as the drink, and rose from the stool, his eyes narrowing once more, and raised his right hand upwards to the handle seeming to poke from his back:

the guard a somewhat ornate design, as it had been etched in the metal, two dragon wings, the grip being blocked by his hand as he drew it forth from his back, a strange blade seemed to be released, as he made his way over to the newest 'guest', the one in blue, the two of them seeming to look more alike than 'Dante' and the guest. Swinging the blade as though he had been training with it, the young man pointed the tip towards the spiky-haired teen, and let out a laugh, as though he had somewhat expected him to drop by, the young man now in focus, as he could clearly see whom he was to be taunting.

Their guest appeared to be of 5'10, much like the young man whom had fallen in through the glass windows, his hair the same color of silver, though worn in spikes and the young man's cold, steel eyes seemed to pierce through their souls, though the taunting young man seemed to show little fear when dealing with this 'customer, his voice now heard as he continued, the blade now at his side, though he had flared its tip towards him once more as he spoke up, his words now seemed stern, yet quite reckless as the irises of the young man's eyes began to glow a bright steeled blue before resoring. Well well, what have we here, seems Mundus spit you back out, dude...or did you come back for one more game before you left? At any rate, I just thought I'd at least warn you, just to be fair...that if you trash this place again, it'll be comin outta your tab.

With this being said, the young man returned his blade to his back, and turned back to face the man whom had introduced himself as 'Dante', the young man walking past to stop by the jukebox, which, by now, had stopped, the young man reaching into his pocket for a coin, and slipped it into the machine, pressing the song he requested, yet only to find the machine refused to play it, his finger now tapped it a second then a third time in rapid succession. Once again, nothing came out, the young man lowering his head with a sigh, and raised his right hand, slamming it into the machine, the music playing was the classic song: Taste the Blood, and the young man nodding his head to the music before speaking up yet again, this time his words directed to 'Dante', as he returned to his seat, raising the glass to his lips. Damn it, man! I thought you said you would get this shitbox fixed, but it's still being cranky...what's a guy gotta do to get a decent repairman around here?

now that the spiky-haired demon was talking, he listened, though not so much intent as if he were bringing good news, or if it had been his own father or mother, yet still somewhat of an intent behind his pale blue eyes, as he set down the glass on the counter once more, leaving the rest of the pizza for now, and made his way over to where Vergil was standing, then watched as a slight purple glow had emitted from the young man's fingertips, a funnel of light now blasted towards the jukebox, though the young man didn't seem at all amused. With the jukebox blaring, the 'mystery man' raised a hand to draw the winged blade once more from his back, spinning it slightly before holding it to his side, the young teen now letting out a laugh, then spoke up, his voice mocking to Vergil's ears, though a sign of fun as well, his words clear and strong. Looks like I ain't the only one that can't seem to turn on that shitbox, seeing what you just did to it, dude...and another thing, I don't even need to watch my back, what with all that's been goin on around this joint.

Shifting his eyes back to the spiky-haired demon, he reached out, a hand lowering to the young man's coat shoulder, his eyes still showing their usual icy blue glare, the 'dragon-wing sword' held behind his back as it charged, the metallic blade now seeming to glow a scarlet tinge, as his hand released from Vergil's shoulder, the blade now sent forward, its tip aimed right at the young man's heart. Before any contact was made, however, he leapt into the air with the strike, his body falling behind Vergil's, the 'mystery man' now slicing a Hell's Pride down the middle with the force of that downslash, the Pride's head being tossed up and down.

Turning back to face the young man in blue, he still bounced the head on his palm, though let out another laugh, this time his laugh showed an air of defiance, or rather hot-headedness, as he made his way back to the bar, though turned back over his shoulder, his pale blue eyes now glared to Vergil, as an indication something was about to happen as he halted, his body turning now to face him once more, the young man's scarlet jacket flared as the head in his hands landed, the young man gripping it rather tight, as he returned his icy stare.

Now the young man seemed rather ticked, as first he had witnessed 'Dante' lose his drink by a demon, as well as himself and Vergil dropping in to 'trash the party', the young man in red now staring Vergil down, as though it had been the wild west, and the two were locked in a showdown. Releasing the head from his palm, he tossed it upwards, his body turning in a full circle spin before swinging the blade at it, the blade connecting with a hard hit, as the head now hurled towards the man in blue, as he returned to a stand, the blade being placed into position on his back again, as his stern, yet quite reckless voice soon heard in the place. after all, Vergil...I'm one of those that know what's gonna happen to me if I do watch it. Anyways, I'll assume you ain't here to check on your little brother, are you?

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Sigh......

indeed... this isn't as fun as i envisaged it would be... *goes to ps2 and plays DMC3*