You were an artist. A surprisingly sporadic one, inspiration coming in unpredictable bursts. Until you met Vergil. And just like that, you and the canvas were friends again.

it was not just Vergil himself that you captured within your works, oh no, (you weren't THAT much of a creep) pieces of him were throughout any artwork, landscapes, studies, his qualities bled into your brush.

The half-demon never really noticed how his own style and aesthetic was being adapted into your folio, but he'd always give you a soft smile upon seeing your works.