kowase | IC INBOX

[Truly, Eve remembers nothing from before her time there. If there was a time 'before'. She's... not certain how to feel about the harsh words against Torneo. As much as she prefers not to remember him at all, it's hard to fully cut herself off from 11 years spent in that mansion. An unwelcome ghost of her past.]

Torneo... was his name. [There's some hesitation, saying the name. As for a crueler fate:] Well, he has already been arrested, and he was beaten pretty heavily and saw his research investments go up in smoke.

[Technically he was also killed! Don't get arrested when making deals with shady people. But Eve doesn't know that little detail.]

[She listens to the explaination of Krusnik. Like so many times before, she doesn't fully understand. What could push a group of people to do something like that, what wishes she could possibly grant. Answers remain outside her reach, blessedly, but puzzling for Eve. But she does grasp some of it. Having been forced into a particular mould.]

So that's what they were after.

[A different kind of empty vessel. Vergil's flowery language might be a bit difficult to parse, but Eve gets that much.]

[But then Vergil gives her a road map. One that is so very close to what she had been already doing to prepare for a future in bounty hunting. And suddenly gives all that training validation.]

I will.

[It is a promise. She'll protect them.]

[As her grip loosens, Eve holds the small box out to Vergil at last. It's wrapped, but only in white tissue paper. Mainly because that's what was available to her, but it does give the box a subdued look. Almost classy.]

For you.

[Then, she adds:]

They did not get what they wanted out to you either. You are no more twisted than before.

If the research he conducted was cruel, then perhaps it was more than fine to watch it go up in smoke.
[ sorry, eve, he doesn't have any pity for someone who treats others like objects, like means to their own ends. he has no time or patience for it--even before he himself was subject to what krusnik did, he never approved of it.

He tips his head a little, casting his glance on her down and away. An expression that's nearly apologetic. He knows it's hard to accept that you're young and therefore you should enjoy your childhood--children never take well to things like being told to 'act your age'. But growing up too fast is certainly something Vergil did in his past life. ...And perhaps he did it too quickly in this life too, loaded down with expectations.

He's going to ... stare, a moment, as Eve finally presents the gift to him--he'd figured it was for him, but somehow, it's still a surprise to receive it. He hadn't felt he deserved a gift or anything of the sort, but... he supposes he can understand why.

He'll accept it without arguing, at least. ]

...Hm. You have only spoken to me for about five minutes, now. How can you be so certain?

[ he... gives her a little smirk. trying to tease, maybe just a little as he flips the lightly wrapped box in his hands. He'll open it--but he's slow and careful about it, as if to not tear the wrapping, but to instead fold it into a clean little square once it's off. ]

[The research was less cruel than the endgame, though it might just feel that way since she can remember less of it. Eve was only supposed to be the first in a line of super soldiers, designed specifically for the battlefield. Not a great future for a pacifist, but luckily she got out.]

[She does nod.]

Better than the research being out there still.

[Eve does agree with that. Who knows what kind of damage it could do. Sure would be a shame if someone was continuing it elsewhere...]

[If Eve notices the unspoken apology, she doesn't show it. Accepting such messages is very hard, especially when you have grand ambitions. Admittedly her bounty hunting goals at least fit into a childish outlook? Though with her world, there are more possible outcomes than just exercising her imagination.]

[Yes, accept the gift. Eve hands it over. And although she sees the smirk, the teasing goes unnoticed so she'll answer genuinely.]

Would a twisted man bother to dissuade ambitions that could be used for their cause?

Besides, you're still you.

[Bold words for someone who barely talked to Vergil before. But it's true that other than a lot more tension, the business owner still seemed like himself. Aloof yet verbose, oddly intense at times, and with a rare and peculiar humor.]

[He might be able to guess the gift once the delicate paper has been removed, as the box's shape is exactly what you'd expect when purchasing a ballpoint pen. (Or other fancy pen that gets its own individual box. However, there is more to the gift than appearance suggests.]

Yes. You are correct. It is much better how it is now, with nothing out in the open, yes?

[ he's going to open the box and take the pen out, placing the box aside for the moment so he can look the item over. Just like how he appraises an antique, looking it over from every angle, every detail being taken in.

...What an interesting item. Ah, was this... ]

'You're still you', hm.

[ what a... profound thing for someone so young to say. ...Perhaps he needed to hear it. Because he's reaching to place a hand on the top of her head, a moment later. ]

...This is a wickedly clever gift.
I will find much use in it, I assure you of it.

Thank you, Eve.

Right. [She don't bother mentioning that the information had never been out in the open, very much behind heavy security. It's not relevant now that the data is destroyed. Burned to the ground.]

[As he has likely guessed, the gift has a double feature. Both a pen to match his professional life, and also protection. should Vergil need it in the future.]

[Because more swords are always handy.]

[Ah, she is patted. That combined with the surprise genuine compliment temporarily stuns her.]

...You're welcome.

[ oops, he didn't mean to paralyze you, eve. but he doesn't pull away right away, letting his hand linger there for just a moment before he returns it to the gift. ]

Swords are one of my favorite things to collect.

I am sure you noticed, by virtue of living in my house for a few days. [ there are swords on the walls and everywhere in the shop and apartment... ]

[This has been happening a lot more frequently, people resting a hand on her head. So puzzling.]

[At least he clearly likes the gift.]

I saw there are quite a few. Also books.

[Eve had paid more attention to the books. While she appreciates some inspiration for new blade transformations, she has her own focus.]

....Ah. Yes. Second only to my great appreciation for weaponry is poetry.

You like books, then? What sort. [ he's going to move to stand, now, looking at the ... rows and rows of books settled in the literal library that's in his office, here. ]

Most of the books in the shops are ones I have much better copies of. Or ones I do not need.

These are my favorites.

What kind of poetry?

[Eve does not know much about poetry, though she has read some mention of it in philosophy texts. Yet she's curious as ever, her usual response when hearing about a new subject.]

[She will also gladly talk about her favorite thing ever.]

I do! Reading is my favorite past time. I like most books, but adventure and scientific non-fiction are the genres I enjoy the most.

[As he stands, she also turns her gaze towards all those books. She hasn't caught where he's going with this, but she doesn't need an excuse to admire the collection a bit closer.]

[She peers over to look at the favorite books in question.]

They look so fancy. [Then again, everything in Vergil's place kinda does.]

William Blake is among my favorites, but I have a number of books of sonnets and somber works done by a number of poets.
Edgar Allan Poe is one I enjoy, as well as Dante Alighieri.

[ he's going to reach up onto one of the shelves, considering her words about 'adventure and non-fiction. Parsing over the titles, one by one. ]

Most of my books are, admittedly, in Italian and German, but.

I have a few you may enjoy that are in English.
...I will allow you to borrow any, anytime you wish.

[ and from the shelf he'll pluck a old, somewhat tired looking leather book. It's got a gold plated title, and is worn with age. The pages inside are soft, yellowed--a tome that's been well loved for years. ]

Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Isle. A story of pirates and treasure.

One of my favorites, as a teen.

[Eve is making mental note of these names, ready to look them up later. 'Dante' being one of them is interesting.]

Your brother was named after a poet?

[As he has guessed, Eve hasn't learned any other languages. That she has such a good grasp on the one is impressive enough, all things considered.]

Really?? [Oh, wow. That's such an honor bestowed upon her.] A private library...

[She's gonna borrow so many books.]

[Oh, are they talking favorite stories? She loves talking about those. Eve watches the book selection with rapt interest.]

It looks like it's seen many years. Is it an antique?

My brother, and myself, in actuality. Dante Alighieri himself wrote a book called Dante's Inferno, describing the intricacies of Hell.
Perhaps my mother enjoyed the story--or thought she was being funny, given our father was a Devil.
The main characters in the tale are named Dante and Vergil, after all.

[ but he waves his hand. ]

Yes. It is an antique. But I trust you to take care of it.

Oh...

[Eve doesn't know how literal Vergil is being about his father. Though after seeing that blue demon he summoned, she might have a guess. But the story, Dante's Inferno, feels significant. To be named after a book... (Eve doesn't realize she too has a literary reference for a name. Not yet, at least.)]

[Then her thoughts on the subject screech to a halt.]

You want me to take care of it?

[She will, of course, but why? It takes her a moment to catch up, to put the obvious clues in place. Could it be? No way...]

Are you... giving this to me?

Yes.

[ the shortest, simplest answer might be for the best. But... he could elaborate, he supposes. ]

When I was your age. An old man who owned a used book store gave me a book that is still special to me, to this very day. It was a copy of William Blake's poetry--one of my favorite poets, back then.

The gift was something precious to me. ...It still is.

Knowing how it made me feel back then...

[ he gestures. losing steam as he... slips off the short end of whatever emotion he was trying to show there. Oops. He's still as awkward as ever. ]

[They are both awkward.]

[Eve wasn't sure what she was expecting as an answer. She certainly hadn't come here expecting to receive a book, let alone a sentimental one. Yet here she is. Stunned and not quite sure what to do.]

[How is one supposed to feel about such a grand gesture? How do you properly convey gratitude at this scale?]

[It is perhaps a blessing that Vergil goes on beyond the one line answer. Gives her more context and a chance to actually process what is happening.]

...You wanted to do the same.

[She finishes his dropped thread, piecing the clues together. A precious gift...]

[Eve might not be great at emotional expression, but she thinks she knows what to say at least.]

Thank you.

I will take good care of it.

I wanted to do the same.

[ he confirms the word with a soft and gentle nod--Eve having picked up the clues as they were given. He's a little pleased his message wasn't misconstrued, that she'd understood.

Lifting up from where he'd been a little crouched to give it to her. Straightening up and moving to cross the room again, to sit at his desk.

He places her gift inside a little container on his desk--a cup laden with gemstones, some old artifact he'd refurbished into a penholder of sorts. Hers is one of the only three inside it, now. ]

I trust you to do it very well.

Just one book to start your collection.
But everyone starts somewhere.

IC INBOX - kaisou

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