Velveteen -- Replay

"Oi. Twila. Wha're ye gonna do with 'im? I mean, 'e set yer da free on the worl', aye?"

The sound of a heavily-Scottish accented female's voice was the first thing to reach Dante's ears as he floated out of unconsciousness.

"I want to murder him. Spill his blood across dhe floors and walls. But..." A sigh from a second voice, this one hinting in Russian and also female.

"But?" the first speaker urged.

"But I need him. 'He who releases dhe monster must put it back'. I cannot put my fadher back in his grave; dhis blundering idiot has to."

"Wha' was 'e doin' in 'ere in the firs' place?"

"Dhe Hell if I know, dhe Hell if I care. All I care about is putting Daddy back to sleep and it is his fault he is awake in dhe first place." A low growl was given here. "When dis is over, I will put him in his grave. I was having such a good nap..."

"Twila? Nappin'!? Now, I've 'eard e'erythin'!"

Here, there was a laugh from the Scottish one and a low rolling chuckle, much like a purr, from the Russian.

Dante came to enough that he was able to push himself over, a light groan leaving the hunter's lips. Good God, his head hurt...

All laughter stopped as he moved, the sound of shuffling and then footsteps echoing in his ears. It felt like he had a hangover ... and the person jabbing their finger into his forehead was not doing much to help the thing along.

"Oi, Twi! 'E's awake!"

So it was the Scottish one, was it?

A moment of silence and seemingly endless jabbing before he snapped his eyes open, two figures blurred in his vision. At least the owner of the place was using candles instead of lights; the brilliant flourescent glare would have steeped his head in yet more pain.

A few moments passed before his vision sharpened, the opening of his eyes scaring the shit out of the one poking his head so she stumbled backward away from him.

"'Oly shit! Dinna expect 'im to actu'lly wake up 'r nothin'!" she exclaimed, sitting on her rump halfway across the room.

The Russian was sitting across the chamber on a fainting couch, holding in her white clutches a china saucer and teacup, sipping the steaming contents gingerly before chuckling at her companion. "If you had not touched him, I am certian he would still be asleep."

From what Dante could see, he was in a completely different room from that of the tomb. He had been set on a fairly good-sized lounge to recover from the draining of his energy, the couch set against one wall. There were three walls he could see easily from his position, none of them with windows, but all three with doors. The walls were painted a medium blue, but all the lights in the room were covered with red, creating a violet sheen when the red light mingled with the blue paint. The floor was carpeted in a lighter shade of blue so that the red that touched it made it a lavender instead of the violet glaring from the walls. The ceiling was white; it reflected only red, the same shade as the hazy appearance in the room. Across the room was a loveseat, a fainting couch, and an armchair, set up in that order in a curve. Halfway across the floor, a little woman sat, looking both startled and appalled by the scare the half-demon had given her.

After his quick surveillance of his surroundings (he had also managed to take note that his guns and sword had been taken from him and placed out of reach but in sight), Dante's gaze flickered back to the one on the couch, sipping her drink still. He recognized her; the one in the tomb. She looked to be fairly average in height and was lithe in build. Indeed, her skin was as white as he had seen, reflecting the red light like moonlight on fresh blood. Her hair fell in a train behind her, cascading in subtle waves over the front of her seat and barely touching the floor. Her posture was perfect; a straight barely curving spine with her head held with her chin parellel to the floor. And finally, he got to see her face. It was narrow, angled sharply, and fit with the rest of her frame beautifully. Her eyes were slanted ever so slightly and the most brilliant red he had ever seen, swirling and whirlpooling around a slit pupil, a single black line in the center of the irises like a boat caught in an ocean of blood. From there, his eyes were lead down her face as she pulled the cup away from her mouth. Full lips greeted his view, parted ever so slightly and painted in red. The expression on her face was peaceful, or at least that was how he translated the lack of it.

And then there was the other one. The Scottish one who seemed it was fun to poke her finger into him as though trying to perform a fucking lobotomy. She was shorter than her companion and stockier, wearing simply a black tanktop/turtleneck sweater-type shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of what looked to be hiking boots. Her eyes were a muted red, mostly because of the light. They had an almost metallic sheen to them and by the coloration, he had to guess silvery or damn-near-white-blue. Her hair was ... everywhere, to say the least, copper red in color and pulled back into a ponytail. Splattered across the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones just under her eyes was a pack of freckles. Suffice to say, Dante was happier seeing that the red light had a different effect on the girl's skin, looking a lot like his own; the girl was human. Or at least she looked it.

"Ye know, when ye actu'lly look at 'im, 'e's kinda cute." the one on the floor said, grinning broadly. "Ye can 'lways say to Death tha' 'e followed ye 'ome..."

The more refined-looking one sputtered on whatever she was drinking, having once more lifted the cup to her lips. "And what, Kiki, is it exactly dhat you are implying?"

Kiki shrugged. "Tha' instea' o' killin' 'im, ye c'n keep 'im as ae pet, aye."

The Russian huffed a little, but a small ominous smirk crossed her pretty face, red gaze cast to the hunter on her lounge. "Sit, boy. Roll over."

It might have been funny if maybe she tried putting a little more emotion into it. She had something other than the light frown on her face, but there was no feeling behind it, no humor. Just a dark grey veil clouding the true emotion. She might actually have been drop dead gorgeous if she truly smiled once in a while.

At the sad attempt at humor, Dante grimaced and put his back to the room, calling over his shoulder, "I don't do tricks. Not for you, not for her..." Here, he nodded his head to Kiki. "...Not for anyone. Got it?"

He probably should not have turned his back to either one of them, but they did pull him from the tomb and into this room and watched him as he slept. They had all the time in the world to do him harm if that was their intent and they didn't do anything, so maybe they wouldn't now.

"Come now." The Russian again (What was her name? He heard it before he woke up...). "It is not often I get to even crack a smile, much less a joke..."

He threw a sharp laugh at her right then, cutting her off from whatever else she wanted to say. "That wasn't a joke. Even if it was, you won't find me laughing at it."

Kiki made a 'pfft' noise and waved a hand dismissively at him. "Don' ye worry, Twila (There's her name... he thought). The bastard's jes' no' 'ousebroken yet." she cooed, reassuringly.

At that, Dante sat straight up, whirling around to face her, fuming. "I am not a fucking dog!"

Kiki looked surprised for a moment, but snorted at first then burst into laughter. "Well, ye 'ad me fooled!" she replied once she had caught her breath. "'Cuz ye're cert'nly no man!"

By this point, the half-demon had risen to his feet, ready to slam an insult back at her. He was not the only one standing.

Twila had beaten him to it, a low growl issuing from her that sounded like something an animal would do when feeling threatened, particularly a big cat. "Sit down, you impertinent child."

Now that was something not to be tolerated. "Excuse me?" he asked, his tone demanding as he turned his attention now to her.

"Excuse me, indeed." she hissed, eyes narrowing at him. "You. You waltzed into my home, invaded my privacy, put dhe world in danger, woke me up, insulted my friend, questioned my authority, and you expect me to consider you an adult?"

There was a moment of stunned silence. For the first time in ... forever, Dante had nothing to say in return.

When she received no witty remark or snide retort from him, she nodded sharply, pointing to the lounge. "Sit. Now."

There was nothing really much left to do but ... sit as instructed. She deserved that much, at the least; she did render him speechless, after all.

Once he had sat down and gotten himself quite settled, he set his glaring gaze to the Russian who was quite obviously in charge. She glared back, hers much deeper and better practiced as compared to his, which caused him simply to lower his own eyes from hers.

"So. Here is dhe ... dhe ... what was dhat word again, Kiki?"

"Thingamajig?"

"Niet..."

"Diddlydealibob?"

"Da." She turned her attention back to the hunter now. "Dhe diddlydealibob." The way she said the word -- in that slow deliberate way as though she were tasting fine wine -- made him try extremely hard not to laugh. Especially since she had an eyebrow raised as if questioning the idea of such a word coming out of her mouth. Needless to say, his attempts at stiffling his laughter failed horribly. A few minutes passed in silence from Twila so she could let him get all of it out of his system before she continued.

When the initial burst of laughter had subsided enough she could be heard over it, she added, "You came in here for some reason or anodher. Dhe truth behind it, I do not care, nor would I even want to know if I did happen to give 'a rat's ass'. Dhe point is you stumbled upon my family's tomb and disrupted my nap..."

"Yeah. About that." Dante had regained his composure, leaning back against the back of the lounge he was on. "That was one hell of a nap. Kinda odd the way you were positioned; looked more like accidentally self-induced comatose. What did you do? Crack your head on something first?" He gave a short snort of laughter, only to be stopped suddenly by something hitting his forehead and bouncing off. It didn't hurt, but it certianly was surprising. Upon investigating, he discovered a small shoe sitting in his lap and lifted it up. "Hm..." It was a lovely piece of work; black suede low-top with silver thread sewn across it in swirls and spirals, like smoke. The sole was flat, but curved up about a half inch around the heel. "Well, it's mine now."

There was a scoff from Twila and a low cackle from Kiki. He looked up, an eyebrow raised, and was drawn to the sight that met him. The skirt of Twila's dress on her right side had been drawn up to retrieve the shoe from her foot and thus was actually showing her leg from knee to ankle. Not much in the way of the day's fashion statements, but for her, it must have been a little too much skin. That same fine white flesh covered the slender limb and delicate-looking foot in turn. She was bent partially over, holding her skirt with the long fingers of her right hand, her left hand extended toward him in the 'Give It Back' gesture.

It did not take him long to decide whether or not to give the shoe back to its owner. He just plain didn't want to.

"I thought I made it clear that it's mine now." he replied, smirking.

"It is mine, you ... bastard." she retorted, small hints of anger lacing her voice. At least the anger was real if no other emotion was...

He tilted his head to the left, winked, and replied, "Thanks for pointing that out." He added as he tossed the shoe up and caught it, "Maybe this'll teach you not to throw things at people you don't know."

At that, Kiki pffted. "Twila? Actu'lly learn summat from summat else? Yeah. Righ'. Tha'll be the day..."

By the deepening scowl on the Russian's pristine visage, Dante was preparing himself to be pounced on and wrestled with until he surrendered the shoe. He was only mildly surprised when she simply let the skirt fall and sat back down.

He showed a little more surprise when she snapped her fingers and the shoe melted in his hands, squelched its puddly self across the room, and reformed itself on her dainty little foot.

She took obvious relish in the look on his face in that brief moment, smirking and saying, "You act like you have never seen a shadow move before."

Once said, he cast his eyes to meet hers, listening to Kiki laugh from the floor and say, "Goo' God, 'is eyes look purple! Twila! Twila, ye've go'a see this!"

"I can see it, Kiki. You forget; I am obliged to look him in dhe eye when I can."

At that, Dante had to scoff. "Obliged? Come on. You know you enjoy it. Just admit it. You adore my eyes."

Twila's eyes narrowed at him. "Niet. I do not fall prey to such frivolous emotions as 'adoration' or, Heavens forbid, 'love'. You have eyes. Dhat is good enough for me. Continuing on..."

It was Kiki who interrupted her this time. "Ach. C'me on, Twila! Qui' bein' such ae stick in the mud." Here, she turned to the male and looked up to him in mock infatuation. "I like yer eyes..."

Dante shot an eyebrow up at her. "Yeah, no." He had other things on his mind, like what was it exactly that he had unleashed on the world and catching the eye of the Russian. He was not leaving here without seeing at the very least a little more of that hidden white skin. Not that Kiki was bad-looking or anything, but her friend was a different story. She was ... definitely not like the everyday little slut one ran into on the streets.

While Twila and Kiki went at one another's throats for the time being on something over interrupting being rude, he tuned them out and just watched the one in the dress, the way the silk pulled against her body and defined her curves more. The way she sat, the dress pulled back against her body, outlining every stitch and seam of what appeared to be a corset of sorts covering her upper body under the dress, a pair of panties seen below that. Not a thong; he'd recognize the lines of a thong anyday. These were actual panties, a rare commodity on anyone nowadays. His eyes trailed up her body, watching the reddish haze cast purplish highlights over her hair, saw the waves of raven black follow the lines of her body...

He was drawn away from his observations of her when she suddenly spat a string of Russian curse words that could easily put him to shame in quantity. Not like he understood Russian at all, but it took her a whole six and a half minutes to finish and by the pauses between them, it certainly sounded like she was well-rehearsed in expelling such things. Plus, given the situation, she was probably cursing.

When Twila was finished with her little fit, the entire room fell deathly silent. With a sharp nod to Kiki as if to establish superiority, she sat back up straight and turned once more to Dante.

"Now dhen. You stumbled on my family's tomb and released my fadher." she purposely left out the nap bit to skip a relapse of past mistakes. "Papa died suddenly and violently, regardless of it being an accident. When a soul becomes freed under dhose circumstances, it becomes restless and eventually turns violent. Papa had been dead for so long, his own special power grew. Now, all he has to do is wait a few days and he will be able to walk around, solid like a normal human being. His memorial was dhe only dhing strong enough to hold him, and now you and whatever it is you carry with you has broken his seal and set him free." She paused as if to let it all sink in before continuing. "Dhere is a saying in my native home; 'He who frees dhe beast must put dhe beast back'. In odher words..."

"I'm stuck hunting this guy down and resealing him?" Dante finished.

"You catch on well. Bully for you."

A compliment from this woman. He had a funny feeling that it was quite the honor to gain any sort of positive comment from her.

"However, it is more like murder if we do not catch him within dhree days' time. He walks solid on dhe earth dhen. If dhat is dhe case, it will be easier to deal with him; you kill him and he returns directly to his grave. Dhe attempt will be grueling, for he will be stronger dhan in his spirit form. However, if he is still in spirit form when we catch up to him ... you will need me."

"Alright. So I made an oops. And now I have to fix it, but you see, I can't do anything without a price. I've got a reputation to uphold and a life to live."

Twila said nothing, simply narrowed her eyes at him. After a few moments, she spoke. "Very well dhen. What do you want?"

"Well, we'll say Future's delving crystal, for starters. Make it a down payment or something..." Her narrowing eyes told him exactly all he wanted to know. "I see you know what I am talking about..."

"Of course I know what it is you want. I will retrieve it for you later. And dhe rest of your 'payment'?"

A sly smile crossed the devil hunter's face. "We'll talk about that when I have the crystal..."

She contimplated this idea before rising. "So be it. Tomorrow morning, I will have dhe seeing glass ready for you to take. For right now, let us all retire for dhe night. We will need all dhe rest we can get when we start out, since Papa is hard to track down and he will not go down without a fight when we do catch up to him."

Kiki, who had not spoken since her bout with Twila, nodded her head and stood up. "Oi. Goo' idea."

Twila also rose, followed closely by Dante. She turned to him, setting a light glare on his form. "You. Dhis is your room. Dhe filters over dhe candles do come off if dhe red light bothers you so. Dhe bathroom is over dhere..." She pointed to the door on the wall she was sitting against. "Odher dhan dhat, I do not want to see you out of your room before dawn. Dhe Rising Sun is massive and easy to get lost in for a newcomer."

He gave a small sigh. "Fine. I'll stay in here."

The Russian nodded her head at him. "I will send one of dhe twins up here to give you somedhing to eat. Anydhing in particular you feel like?"

A small smirk crossed his face then. "You wouldn't happen to have a pizza hanging around, would you?"

A small bit of silence followed, Kiki snickering off to one side. "I dhink we can arrange somedhing." Twila said finally. "By dhe way, do not feel unnerved at any sounds you hear during dhe night. Dhe Rising Sun cries every so often, as ... quirky as it sounds. Dhat is all it is, dhe house crying. Nodhing is wrong." At his questioning look, she lifted an eyebrow back at him. "I suppose you will see in..." She looked down the hall at a fairly large grandfather clock set near a flight of stairs. "...An hour and a half."

The hunter gave a small nod. "I suppose I will then."

As the Russian and the Scot headed down the hall, Kiki called over her shoulder, "'N' dun' ferget; don' leave yer room withou' ae guide!"

Once the pair of girls were out of earshot, Kiki looked up at her friend. "Noo, I know tha' ye weren' really sleepin'. I mean seriously. Since when do ye actu'lly sleep, aye?"

"You are correct. I tripped."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Kiki erupted in a bout of maniacal laughter, a fit that echoed throughout the halls.