[Dante sat with this for a minute, thinking to himself, all he had was his own life experiences to draw from to give advice from. He contemplated carefully when it came to telling people about his existence, but there were ways to tell his story without revealing the bits that would scare people.]
I am one-half of a whole, I was born a twin in an affluent family, in a nice manor on a hill. My mother had a smile that was as refreshing as a drop of dew and my father was a skilled fighter and a brave man, a knight. My father was plagued by duty and left when I was very young, leaving my brother and I with his skills in combat and a few precious relics.
[Skills also included demonic power and relics would be devil arms, but that was neither here nor there.]
The world continued to spin even when he wasn't there, my mother did the best she could being mother and father to twins who couldn't be more different. And then one day our home was attacked by demons, my mother hid me from the demons, but my brother Vergil...was off playing elsewhere. In a panic she searched and searched for him until it killed her.
[Was there a point to this, a point to any of this? Maybe? He'd get there eventually.]
I survived, there was a lot that happened in my childhood and youth that isn't really important, it's just filler. [Filler that mostly consisted of Dante repressing and regressing for many years.] I thought that everyone was dead, mother, brother, and most certainly my father. Until he returned, Vergil, my brother.
[Dante exhaled and gave himself a moment.]
It was like something out of a dream, this other half of me appearing out of nowhere and suddenly I wasn't alone anymore. He didn't feel the same way, he came back with a hatred of me and a single-minded pursuit of power. His return wasn't for me, but for our father's possessions, things that would grant him power.
[As one could imagine Dante's disappointment was beyond measure.]
It took a lot of fighting, bloodshed, and loss between the two of us before I came to realize that Vergil's hatred came from a place of love as hatred often does. You can't hate someone that much without caring, it ties in somewhere, whether you once loved that person, or that person threatened something you love. [The only thing more potent than hatred was indifference.] His side of things was this belief that our mother loved me more than she loved him, because I was saved while he was attacked by demons and made to suffer, but it wasn't true. It was his truth; it was the only truth he ever knew or cared about knowing and he needed it to be true. The alternative would have been worse.
[It would mean confronting his entire world view.]
His hatred of me was a hatred of the weakness he saw in me and didn't want inside of himself, he wanted to protect himself. His search for power was the same, you can't protect anything, not even yourself without power and he never wanted to feel weak or powerless again. There's an irony in that, embracing his hatred, his venom, and looking only for ways to protect himself in growing strength he would lose...again, and again, and again.
[Dante didn't say it out loud, but his attachment to Astarion was in part because he saw something in him that reminded him of Vergil. That was an entirely different and complicated can of worms, but there was a specific brand of hostility that was inherent inside of people who felt powerless.]
I don't think anyone deserves to exist in their pain, you don't, Astarion doesn't. Pain, anger, hatred, it's hard work, it's always tit-for-tat, and there's very little payoff only brief moments of satisfaction.
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I am one-half of a whole, I was born a twin in an affluent family, in a nice manor on a hill. My mother had a smile that was as refreshing as a drop of dew and my father was a skilled fighter and a brave man, a knight. My father was plagued by duty and left when I was very young, leaving my brother and I with his skills in combat and a few precious relics.
[Skills also included demonic power and relics would be devil arms, but that was neither here nor there.]
The world continued to spin even when he wasn't there, my mother did the best she could being mother and father to twins who couldn't be more different. And then one day our home was attacked by demons, my mother hid me from the demons, but my brother Vergil...was off playing elsewhere. In a panic she searched and searched for him until it killed her.
[Was there a point to this, a point to any of this? Maybe? He'd get there eventually.]
I survived, there was a lot that happened in my childhood and youth that isn't really important, it's just filler. [Filler that mostly consisted of Dante repressing and regressing for many years.] I thought that everyone was dead, mother, brother, and most certainly my father. Until he returned, Vergil, my brother.
[Dante exhaled and gave himself a moment.]
It was like something out of a dream, this other half of me appearing out of nowhere and suddenly I wasn't alone anymore. He didn't feel the same way, he came back with a hatred of me and a single-minded pursuit of power. His return wasn't for me, but for our father's possessions, things that would grant him power.
[As one could imagine Dante's disappointment was beyond measure.]
It took a lot of fighting, bloodshed, and loss between the two of us before I came to realize that Vergil's hatred came from a place of love as hatred often does. You can't hate someone that much without caring, it ties in somewhere, whether you once loved that person, or that person threatened something you love. [The only thing more potent than hatred was indifference.] His side of things was this belief that our mother loved me more than she loved him, because I was saved while he was attacked by demons and made to suffer, but it wasn't true. It was his truth; it was the only truth he ever knew or cared about knowing and he needed it to be true. The alternative would have been worse.
[It would mean confronting his entire world view.]
His hatred of me was a hatred of the weakness he saw in me and didn't want inside of himself, he wanted to protect himself. His search for power was the same, you can't protect anything, not even yourself without power and he never wanted to feel weak or powerless again. There's an irony in that, embracing his hatred, his venom, and looking only for ways to protect himself in growing strength he would lose...again, and again, and again.
[Dante didn't say it out loud, but his attachment to Astarion was in part because he saw something in him that reminded him of Vergil. That was an entirely different and complicated can of worms, but there was a specific brand of hostility that was inherent inside of people who felt powerless.]
I don't think anyone deserves to exist in their pain, you don't, Astarion doesn't. Pain, anger, hatred, it's hard work, it's always tit-for-tat, and there's very little payoff only brief moments of satisfaction.