Vergil's expression belies nothing as he shares which of his sins had been written out by the fox. There's no curling of the lip into a judgmental sneer, nor is there an empathetic furrow of his brow for the weight those lives place upon the swordsman. He may very well have been commenting on the weather for all Vergil gives as an impression to his reaction upon hearing that so many died for the sake of one life. But that lack of any information is likely just as telling—if not more so—than if there had been any stirring of emotion across his face.
"Revenge is a costly matter." Simple. Matter-of-fact. Vergil could perhaps leave it there and the man would likely be able to ascertain Vergil speaks from somewhat similar experience if he's astute enough. But that would not get them anywhere and Vergil knows that. His gaze drops contemplatively to where he's folded his hands neatly on the table, one fist curled into the palm of the other. Truly, it's almost enough to make Vergil grimace with a bitter smile at the odds of this that two men driven by selfish desires could have wrought as much destruction as they both did would find themselves seated across from one another. "My pursuit of power was not driven by a need for revenge against my mother's killer, but I certainly would not have minded if it had been a consequence of it. I attempted it regardless when the opportunity presented itself."
He lifts his gaze once more to meet the other's eyes. Vergil isn't a child and isn't about to sheepishly make his own confession about what his self-serving ambitions had cost.
"My father was the demon known as Sparda, the Legendary Dark Knight who betrayed his own kind to protect the human race by defeating the Demon King and his armies. He sealed away the portal to the demon world, but in doing so sealed away his own power. I sought to reclaim it for myself and broke his spell. I don't believe I need to list out every consequence, every loss for you to understand the gravity of that choice."
It's likely difficult to detect any hint of remorse on Vergil's part as he describes in the briefest terms he can what the fox wishes acknowledgement from him over. He speaks of it with the sort of detachment one might recount events as though they happened to someone else. But Vergil's coldness in retelling the bare minimum of what happened really shouldn't be mistaken for a lack of remorse. Vergil simply meets most things like this with a level head rather than giving into passionate fits of emotion.
"I didn't wish to ever feel as I had that day my mother died."
Powerless. Helpless.
He hadn't been able to protect his mother, and she hadn't been able to protect him. And his father? Well, the demon himself hadn't somehow returned from wherever it is he disappeared to long before that day, but Yamato answered Vergil's pleas for protection. The blade came to him and a devil awoke inside Vergil, allowing him to survive. To survive and grow in strength.
"I didn't care what it would cost." Vergil's gaze darts away again very briefly. The first and one of the few times something unspoken belies his true feelings as he purses his lips. Regret tastes bitter in the back of his throat. "I know I was wrong, but I refuse to dwell in my mistakes."
The past has held enough sway over him and his life. Vergil didn't need to sacrifice more for the sake of the past. It's not a stance he believes is lost on the man seated across from him given that he clearly recognizes some things are unable to be taken back. Ultimately, were better ways for both of them to carry forward than trying to set right the wrongs in impossible ways.
no subject
"Revenge is a costly matter." Simple. Matter-of-fact. Vergil could perhaps leave it there and the man would likely be able to ascertain Vergil speaks from somewhat similar experience if he's astute enough. But that would not get them anywhere and Vergil knows that. His gaze drops contemplatively to where he's folded his hands neatly on the table, one fist curled into the palm of the other. Truly, it's almost enough to make Vergil grimace with a bitter smile at the odds of this that two men driven by selfish desires could have wrought as much destruction as they both did would find themselves seated across from one another. "My pursuit of power was not driven by a need for revenge against my mother's killer, but I certainly would not have minded if it had been a consequence of it. I attempted it regardless when the opportunity presented itself."
He lifts his gaze once more to meet the other's eyes. Vergil isn't a child and isn't about to sheepishly make his own confession about what his self-serving ambitions had cost.
"My father was the demon known as Sparda, the Legendary Dark Knight who betrayed his own kind to protect the human race by defeating the Demon King and his armies. He sealed away the portal to the demon world, but in doing so sealed away his own power. I sought to reclaim it for myself and broke his spell. I don't believe I need to list out every consequence, every loss for you to understand the gravity of that choice."
It's likely difficult to detect any hint of remorse on Vergil's part as he describes in the briefest terms he can what the fox wishes acknowledgement from him over. He speaks of it with the sort of detachment one might recount events as though they happened to someone else. But Vergil's coldness in retelling the bare minimum of what happened really shouldn't be mistaken for a lack of remorse. Vergil simply meets most things like this with a level head rather than giving into passionate fits of emotion.
"I didn't wish to ever feel as I had that day my mother died."
Powerless. Helpless.
He hadn't been able to protect his mother, and she hadn't been able to protect him. And his father? Well, the demon himself hadn't somehow returned from wherever it is he disappeared to long before that day, but Yamato answered Vergil's pleas for protection. The blade came to him and a devil awoke inside Vergil, allowing him to survive. To survive and grow in strength.
"I didn't care what it would cost." Vergil's gaze darts away again very briefly. The first and one of the few times something unspoken belies his true feelings as he purses his lips. Regret tastes bitter in the back of his throat. "I know I was wrong, but I refuse to dwell in my mistakes."
The past has held enough sway over him and his life. Vergil didn't need to sacrifice more for the sake of the past. It's not a stance he believes is lost on the man seated across from him given that he clearly recognizes some things are unable to be taken back. Ultimately, were better ways for both of them to carry forward than trying to set right the wrongs in impossible ways.