His blue eyes narrowed to dangerous slits but he silently got up from the bed, still a bit tired but he hid his weakness well.  He listened to what the woman had to say but wasn't about to respond to it, wondering just how tough she truly was.  Regardless, he wouldn't test her more than he felt he needed to, but for now he looked down and sighed, hating how things have most likely gone since his absence.  Dante, despite their very clear difference, most likely thought he was dead, and even Vergil felt a twinge of brotherly love for the man, not that he'd ever admit it aloud.  Letting the pajama bottoms fall after he crossed to the well appointed bathroom where Dia said it would be, the samurai found the amenities pleasing.  He let himself soak for a good half hour before finally washing away the dirt and grime of 12 years, feeling stronger with each passing minute.  By the time he had wrapped a fluffy blue towel around his well toned body, Vergil was very close to his old strength again.  He found a pair of scissors and a razor, and quickly chopped the twelve years of hair off of his head, returning to his former appearance in another half hour of work.  He cleaned up his mess as best as he could, having had quite a bit to contend with before he even started to resemble his old self.  Going back to the room where he had been for so long, he found a black sleeveless shirt and blue pants, much like one of his own outfits he had wore so long ago.  He did wonder what happened to his tailored coat, shirt, and pants, seeing them nowhere to be found.  They were probably too tore up to be saved.  That was a shame, but a small price for his life as he had it now, indebted to another as he was perhaps.  The food that had been brought was gone in a matter of minutes, having not ate anything for just as long, at least nothing he remembered anyway, although he was sure the woman had had an IV in his arm feeding him intravenously that way.  No sign remained of the thing though, which was a good thing in Vergil's opinion.<br/><br/>After he was done, the samurai made his slow way to find Dia in her mansion, getting a good look of the place along the way.  She was rich or royalty, that was clear from the very opulent furnishings she kept on hand.  He'd have guessed royalty since she didn't act like a spoiled rich bitch, as far as he could have seen anyway.  Demonic servants silently bustled about the place, giving Vergil a wide berth the entire time.  It seemed even now, without his sword or his fine clothes he had kept for so long, he still put off an aura of fear and respect.  At least some things hadn't changed, a twinkle being brought to his glacial blue eyes as he continued to wander.  If Dia sent one of her servants alone, he'd follow them, but until then, he chose to look around, getting a feel for his 'friend'.