A thousand times and a thousand ways, she knew better than to be here. But no one had forced her to write the letter that arranged -- yet another -- meeting with him.
Here, being the secluded back her gardens. Stone walls and roses set against them. The lantern flickering on the ground and casting the place in a warm, soft light. Though she was never very good blending into shadows. Her red hair left free and her dress pulled up past her knee as she walked idly paced.
In her mind, she composed the words to end this. To force this to be over. Would that she had half the strength to say that in the face of what she wanted. Stupid, all of it, as if he cared half so much.
She wasn't even sure she did either. But she wanted to meet him, to see him again. To feel something other than frustration and contempt and hidden bemusement for those around her. God almighty, spare her her own pathetic need to be herself.
[It doesn't come as much of surprise: the letter, written out in a fancy cursive that spoke of her breeding. That she? Was from a blood line well-entwined in poise and grace and well removed from him and his. Vacant from an underworld cut sharp by blades and knives, by thick smoke and exchanges better suited for the dark.]
[But despite differences, the two of them had an understanding; business. Business under the table, beyond watchful eyes. Always done at her door and on his terms. A perfect balance, blending the clear-cut edges of night and day, making for the gray aftermath.]
[He always came, then. When the sun had already set and his own accounts had been settled. Mainly, his own needs. Want and desire his fueling point and Greed, if anything, stuck by only a few set of standards.]
[It's slightly warm, when he arrives. Slipping from the dark, one heel clacking to announce. A low hum at the edge of his step, like fire crackling in a forgotten fireplace; the announcement of a devil and he wouldn't have had it any other way. The metaphor in there not entirely lost and the Sin tilts his head back. Wandering stride making him bend over his hips, making him twist around like the adder he is. Sleek and black, slipping over stone.]
Been a little while, lovely. [He hisses, edge of his teeth the only thing catching light. White to the moon and just like the rest of him, they're made for deadlier intentions. To tear and bite and while he's made good with them in the past, the use of the now is much more different.]
[To tease and gesture. To bring on a confession in the cruelest sort of notion.]
[But he knows better than to tread without an invitation and Greed merely circles her back. Shaded eyes flicking, watching every flutter of her dress. Wealthy in all her remains.]
So - what kind of business do you have for me? Usually, you're a little more precise. [It had been a bit vague, even for Elizabeth's standards. The bulk left out, reading between the lines and even that hadn't given him much.]
[And for a creature that called for more, it had left a bit of a nagging.]
[ She is and always, dressed in the trappings of her station. No one would call her subtle. Wearing white to a garden at night, the gold of her rings catching the dull of the light, faintly. The stones set in them, braced around her throat, woven into her hair, were sparkling with colour in the daylight.
But now in shadows, they were inky and lifeless. Little pools of blackness against her always too pale skin. ( But never pale enough. She was Gloriana, and for awhile, perhaps, in this night with him, she was all fae, and not at all a woman. )
His voice at her back, made her tense. Exposed shoulders pulling in a little before she took a breath back out as her head tipped back a little then proceeded -- as if she expected him there all along. That this was business as usual. ]
Perhaps I needed the company. [ And then she curved, over a rosebush. White, and sweet smelling in the night. The whole garden was rich with them, and they were her favourite. As if he were nothing and she could just ignore him as she so wished, that she wasn't aware of him behind her. ] I am Queen after all, and you are not the only to feel a greed insatiable.
[And her back to him speaks volumes; uncaring gestures, as if this isn't really what she wants. For him to grace her doorstep - to slip into her garden and kingdom alike. For a moment, he keeps his space. Just outside the framework of her back, watching the slightest narrowing of the eyes.]
[Until heels clack and his walk is slow. Poised and practiced, but with a difference sense than her and hers. Roll-snap to make the ankles turn and he easily tows the invisible circle. The space between permission and acceptance, pivoting to meet her face to face. Porcelain to smooth oil, two elements rich with their own devices.]
Maybe so, but it isn't like you to admit to something like that. Not usually. [Sure, she was honest. But the Queen wore many faces and while Greed had counted himself good to keep track, the masks were relentless. Always changing depending on present company, but at least she was kind enough to respect his rule; his honesty that was raw, exposed. Just like his very existence and he made no mind to hide the fact.]
What is it, then? What do you really want, Elizabeth? [Greed holds her name for a beat or two. Letting it simmer at his teeth. Vibrating off like a tuning fork and oh, it's wicked music that he makes.]
May as well be honest with me, since I've always done you the favor.
[ Honesty? What was honest at court but a death sentence? Her fingers curled tightly at his question. And she knows, she knows she's too much like her father. Too much rage and bitterness and righteous fury that she cannot keep to herself.
Perhaps that's the honesty that he wants. Because surely it is kept so tightly to her, save for rare instances. But when she speaks it's with a venom that she should of watched, and in the end, had nothing to do with him. ]
And what do you care for my truth? [ Her affection, her favour. It is a twisted thing, that constantly had her filled with doubt. ] Is this not just some game to you as it is with everyone else?
[ She let her skirts fall from her hands. Her hand pressed flat against her bodice as quickly as it was there, the anger is gone. She straightened, swallowing down. ] Yes, I am business to you, I am aware. You have never lied about that. [ She frowned, lowering her eyes as she thought of what she was going to say, had meant to, but no words would come. ]
[For a second, it looks as if the words actually stuck. As if the admittance had hurt him in some fashion and his face falls flat. Frown made hard by the jut of his jaw, by the drop of his eyebrows and everything falls heavy. His shoulders sagging before a corner lifts. The very teasing of a smile and isn't this how it always is.]
[Teasing; knuckles to brush and it's only the promise. That maybe, one day and Greed takes the first step forward. Sliding up to her, an inch of breathing space as his mouth parts to the side. A glint of teeth and he always figured himself the wolf.]
[A creature in the woods, coming to chase the skirt of royalty. But he had a little more respect for her than just that.] Just who the hell do you take me for, lovely? I'm not like everyone else and I told you before - I make it a point not to lie.
[And he made it a point not to be like the rest of the long-line. Everyone following with proverbial salutes and clicking heels to match. The Yes Ma'am(s) a dime a dozen and he was the one to stand out.]
[It was just up to her whether or not she found him too rotten for her liking.]
You think this is just business? Sure, maybe. But I've never been one to deny anything, Elizabeth. You of all people should know me a bit better than that. [Greed speaks as he measures her up. Lifting his head up to stare down and the roles were reversed. If not for the mildest flicker, before he's churning down. Dipping his shoulders, spreading his elbows out behind. A hustler with a vulture's walk.]
Don't tell me you've forgotten that already. [A mild color in incredibly-black glass. The shine of something red before the usual purples peel out with a slide. To let her see everything he really is; a devil by name and by practice and he takes a crooked finger to her chin. Lifts it with a coaxing sort of motion.]
[ All those teeth of his, and she knows that, somewhere, she ought to just run. To follow that instinct and bolt, take her dignity by the hand and flee with it.
But somehow she can't. Or rather, she doesn't want to. Not really. What she wants to do is lean forward, find out what he felt like under her fingers -- and to that end her eyes slip close, biting the inside of her mouth till she was sure she would bleed and all that red would bubble between her lips. ]
If you are better than that: then tell me, what do you want? [ Pause, because she needs specific, more than just what he could want but what he wants -- ] of this, of me?
[ She was tired of second guessing the people about her -- and she might not trust him with a lot of things. But he was right, he'd never lied to her.
Because it's hard looking at him and being aware of so little space between them. It makes her want things that she knows, were too dangerous to be spoken of. Her lips part to that end -- to tell him to stop. Who did he think he was, speaking her name, touching her? Like he was an equal.
But those would only be said because he scared her, so they do not fall from her mouth. ] Am I? How am I any different to you than the other -- [ lovers, business deals, crooked meetings in back allies. ] others, you meet in such a fashion.
Everything - but that's not what you really want to hear, is it?
[Teeth disappear. Hidden away as his smile finds a tight line and Greed traces the dip of her chin. Presses his thumb to fit, but it's oddly gentle. Despite his true nature, he's always favored a more smooth touch. Women always an exception as a rule and he saddles up toe after toe. Knocks them against the outer edge of her own to slip right in.]
[She's already heard his rant - already seen the feverish crawl. That sickness to make his throat dry; to make him barren and thirsty, so he saves it this time. Instead, pressing a forehead to her own as his free hand motions away. Caressing the dark and he's entirely made for it.]
[For promises strung out when the sun's gone. When all secrets are left at the table and it's only the mirror staring back. The cruelty of it just as naked and the Sin lets his gaze sink. Maps out every curve, every inch of her with that eerie silence.]
I want everything you have to offer, lovely. But it's a little more than that. [Always a little more, always demanding that extra inch and Greed brings his lips in close. Enough to threaten a breath at skin as his own deadly collection fans out. Springs with a solid roll of his tongue and he's suddenly releasing. Dropping a hand from her face, her last question ringing true.]
You aren't, but that doesn't mean anything to me. You mortal lot always seem to get mixed up in it - the who and the what, the right and the wrong. To me? It's all good.
[However, that never meant that he didn't have a few favorites as he keeps his forehead to her own, there's a gentle tilt of his head. Predator at the gentle pat, eyes screwing shut beyond the shield of glass.]
[ Everything was something more than she could give. If she were another woman, perhaps. But she was not. She was a Queen, and England's heart beat in her chest. It's hills and rivers her bones and blood. She woven them together as a woman should. Making a future that would last beyond anything she would ever see.
In time, she was sure, they would forget her. As humans were prone to doing.
But he wasn't human, and he wouldn't perish as they were all going to do. ]
Remember me like this, please? [ and for once she didn't force formality on them both, like her position and place dictated she must. All that mattered was his lips on hers and she sighed softly, her lips parting against his own. Her fingers shook as she rose her hand to him, holding his jacket like he might leave her, forget her.
And perhaps that, that was all she wanted. To be remembered like a woman, for there was a Kingdom to remember her like a Queen, but no one to recall her with tumbled hair, shallow breaths and warm eyes as she looked at him. The way her corset was suddenly too tight and she couldn't take in enough air, the insecurity that slipped and showed for a moment before she breathed out again, another content sigh. Her words are in warning, but not said with malice, for she has none. The rage in her cooled, for awhile. ] If you were a man, I should strike your head from your shoulders for saying such to me now of all times.
[ She let out a breathy laughter, her shoulders dipping with it. ] But you are right, it is not.
[It's a modest request, really: "Remember me like this." As she is and yes, she'd age eventually. Time something not afforded and he's been around too long not to have heard the notion before. Back when there was hardly a military presence, when towns where still just getting a foothold. When mankind thought fire would chase the demons away, yet they were living right there with them.]
[Among and about. Entwined in everyday life and maybe that's when it started. He can't remember now and it doesn't really matter. Not here, anyway. Not with his own world long gone and his smile is almost pleasant. Almost soft as hands leave her. Memory suiting well, the courtship of the ill-forgotten. Both palms finding the dip of her back as she gives silent permission.]
As if I would forget. I've been doing this a bit too long - two hundred years and things haven't change that much. [Because despite tasting the permanent dirt-nap twice, Greed knows better. That in the end, he'll still walk when all else is gone. See the rise and fall of a thousand more and maybe the titles change, but the gist it never does.]
[Always someone to rule, even if the masses aren't aware.]
Artificial, but close enough. [A bit of pride there and sure, he's not exactly chiding what he really is. A monster like the rest of them, but he's made his choices. Cut the strings attached and left nothing behind. Nothing but a trail to follow.]
[But here, he does as he's asked. Tying together a deal that's been long in the making. With lips that snatched, rolled inward to cushion his teeth and Greed hums. Breathes as he takes her in; ushering her into that too-hot heat that's rich with ash. The after-burn of scotch still on the tongue and it's his own unique brand. A mark to remember and even in the moment, Greed can't help his grin. Couldn't even hide it if he tried, that wet-pull audible. Smooth to the touch and deep down, he knows it's not fair.]
[So he moves away. Gives her air as his skull rocks to the side. Tracing out her neck with the brush of a nose and his tattooed-palm finds her hair. Slides it behind an ear, a gesture to show that he has no intention of stealing her dignity.]
[That's all hers, in the end. And he'll be sure she takes it to the very grave. It's the least he could do, after all.]
No one else... [ Knows, cares. It's what she wants to say, but it's too pitiful to say or utter even like this. It's true but her pride is great she cannot afford to be pitied. And to that end, her fingers curled in his jacket, it being the only thing that kept her nails from cutting her palm. A lady's hands, and they had no place in being desperate. ]
You don't feel so different. [ It really isn't fair. It felt likes years, since anyone had kissed anything but her hand, formal and restrained. This? This made her tremble, made her ache. She hadn't felt so warm, in such a long time, and she knew it showed, but it didn't care. The hand on his jacket slipped up, into his hair as she felt him brush her neck. Just to keep him there, a little longer. Nails sinking in harder than she meant to before she took the breathe she needed to calm her mind once more. ]
If my heart could ache anymore, I think it should kill me [ Just a mutter, quietly said more for herself than anyone else. ]
[It's like two separates worlds; him and her. The combination of things old, of things that didn't quite belong and as her fingers slide through his hair, Greed comes to the call. Edging himself closer with an elongated hitch. With the opening of his gently-smiling jaws, coiling around her and he's her viper in the end. The rattler to tread lightly, but she's already stepped on his tail. Pushed her heel against it.]
[The one thing he aims to swallow himself.]
[He's reminded of an old waltz, then. Their closeness bringing the memory of sour-smoke and barrels of rum. Of smiles to laugh, in taverns encased in wood and his hips find hers in the dark. Melt against, lining up those red lines at his torso. Strange in their design, notching just above his bones to wrap back around. A similar pair at his chest that anchor at the base of his neck and the Sin hums. Something sickly sweet, fogging her skin with the aftermath.]
That'd be a shame, lovely. We've come this far and I make it a point not to hurt women. [So he turns his hand. Away from each strand of fire-gold hair, letting the silky-rough of his skin trace her jaw. As his eyes opened from the bend of his sunglasses, practically aglow under the grace of the hour.]
I'll always be here, if you really want me. It's one of the perks. [The perks and it's a surrender - to be claimed by avarice itself. Chained without the bind, a heavy weight to the bow, but he's not about to strip her. Not about to pick her bones dry and instead, Greed rocks his shoulders back. Shedding his own skin first, that vest tossing from the shelf of his back. Stopping only at the crooks of his elbows and he's the one tied down. Snared his own trap as he feathers teeth and lips down her neck. Following the arch of her spine, gliding her bends.]
Go ahead. Take whatever you want - I'll only do you the favor.
[ There was something to be embraced by a devil -- and why should she not enjoy it. Rome itself called her wicked. Why should she not act like it for once? ]
Hardly your fault, you never broke my heart. [ There were a hundred others and family built on violence to do that. So the remark is tossed, light and amused as she traced the lines up to his throat, curling around them with finger tips and nails. She might never get to do this again, so she was going to take her time. Having him, learning him. And the moment he removes his jacket, she lent forward and kissed the hollow between his collar bones. Tasting skin in a so brief flick of her tongue. ]
You're far to giving to me. [ But she arches slightly under his hands, her eyes slipping close as she enjoyed the way he kissed her. Her lips parted in a gentle sigh.
But he'd said take and she was so good at doing that. With an impatient tug, she pulled him up to kiss him properly again. A hungry thing, because she could devour him like this, as much as he would consume her. Her hands feeling across his shoulders and arms, hanging onto him as she poured every inch of her loneliness into kissing him, her nails scratched and marked little half moons into his skin. ]
[No, he never did. Never snapped at the strings and pulled; never played her till the last note went flat and he just wasn't the sort. A monster by all accounts, but there were standards, there were rules. And he held to them like a vice; like everything else, snared in more covetous claws. Grasped as the years went by, as time slipped passed. As new faces replaced the old and it was the same, time and time again.]
[But nothing mattered but the present and when her hunger takes him, he falls right in. Snarling, that growl of his coming from the gut. Rising akin to the crackling of a new fire - spitting and hissing to the tune a smile and Greed lets his jaws hang open. Tongue only gracing her own and both hands sink away. To make leather and fur wash off him like a twisted baptism, landing with the muted sound of earth and stone.]
[She's digging into him, then and there's a slight laugh at the edge of Greed's tongue. Sort and sweet as his hands flow to her curves. Mapping her out as his eyes had done a thousand times prior and he'll take his time. Have his fill until the very end and he knows very well where this dance will lead.]
[So he coaxes his lips away. Better suited needs to attend to as he hooks a finger into the laces at her front. Twisting with two quick spins of the wrist, twining over the last knuckle to suffocate it. Bringing forth the metaphoric noose and he tightens the wire. Yanks and finally, the weight of his lips find her throat. The very edge of his teeth pricking skin, making her well aware.]
[That he wasn't like them; that he wouldn't leave. Even when everything else had been lost to her, even when she didn't know her own face - he would be there. A demon always to her call, even if she couldn't remember who he was.]
[ He was a constant she could hang onto. Though she might push him away as often as she pulled him back to her. Too temperamental by half, most times. Greedy, and the thought of that, that irony, brought a smile to her lips. Truer than any she had given a courtier in days, and not half as cruel. ]
[ His hands were far too distracting to tell him what she found so amusing, because there was no way she couldn't feel where they trailed. She wonders what he's doing, at least until all the air was forced out in a gasp. Half his name said in surprise, ( and like this, she'd agree, there was no reason to call him by a title ), and then she couldn't get air back, not between the way the laces pulled so tightly. Panting soft, shallow breaths at his neck, as he bit at hers. ]
[ In the end, it didn't matter though. The thought was clear as spanish glass, he was hers, for awhile, as much as she was his. If he let go of her, she'd tumble and fall, she was sure of that much, because she could not be sure of herself at the moment. Needing someone so much, wanting more than was dignified ought to have scared her still. But she couldn't muster enough feeling to care, because nothing else would come, except the soft moan she muffled against his shoulder, a stifled gasp more than anything else. Blood rushed and pounded and she could hardly care, if it meant he kept touching her. ]
[Name on the lips and it's like a confession; a shedding of the sin to the sinner and Greed spreads his thighs. Motions to the dip, his body following with the stretch of his legs; anchoring him half way down her front, leaving her with a part.]
[But it's only for a moment.]
[Because while a hitched-breath is nice, freedom is oh so sweeter. And his mouth opens, spreading tooth for tooth with a hiss of inhale. The last breath of the poisonous before fangs take lace. Shred with a yank of his skull, with the side jerk of his jaws. Snapping to pieces, an animal by any other definition.]
[But there's something more than that; something past carnal urges, past instinct and Greed catches the ribbons with a slow release. Lips dropping as gingerly as a mother to its den of kin and he swipes the collection away. Open to the palm of his hand, disappearing backwards.]
Easy, lovely. No need to hurt yourself on my account.
[It's like the moon is reflected in those eyes; ghostly appeal to the color of purple. Rich and foreboding, dangerous and deadly. Everything he is all out in the open and it's the honesty he's always promised. No hint of the truth flipped, no mask to hide his intentions. The cards out and he's never had the best of poker faces.]
[Smile far too wide, grin far too menacing. The constant drum of it, even when circumstances were less than ideal.]
[But she's right, though. Hot as a Spanish summer and someone, somewhere, could have written for it. Could have predicted this long ago; that the warm-cool touch would summon him to her. When all the lights had gone out, when everything seemed so lost. Hand stretched, a beckoning: as if he had every solution, every fix.]
[For a price, of course.]
[Muscle tenses as he moves to stand. Swiping like ink to the canvas, drawing with every inch, every second passing an eternity. Until he's got his face back to her own and a thick knuckle pushes between the smallest opening at her corset. The strips of lace still holding until a prod snaps and an index hooks in. Similar to a fishing lore at the gaping mouth and he's willing to give her a bit of air.]
Anything you want - after all, it's not like I'm about to judge you, hmn? [Greed says with a tilt. Sending his sunglasses back over his eyes, sinking those purples away to the watery-black. Back to hollow sockets and his smile stretches.]
[ She could breath again, suck in deep and feel it flood her body as he let her out of the tight grip her dress had on her.
-- And oh she'd had a hundred men kneel before, pay homage to her like she was some altar. It's fitting that it should mimic that, twisted by intentions as it should be. With him, it is always twisted.
All the same, her smile is hazy as she looks down at him. With more affection as her fingers traced up and down his neck. Her blues eyes dark, with something else than just contentment though. Her lips dark from kissing him. And best that they did this in the night, where secrets could be kept. For so much as she would have to go past guards and her ladies, and the little hints of lust then, would be too much in the day. ]
[ All the same he stood, his request an obvious one. Not surprised so much that he'd asked, because a woman's clothes were more complicated than most liked to deal with -- thus her ladies and her maids.
So she laughed, breathing and light, for she felt that easy enough as her fingers went to her bodice, sliding the already loosened laces apart further.
In the end, she's glad she had worn something simple, something that when she lifted her hands to her shoulders, slipped down easily enough. Not that she looked at herself, but rather kept her eyes on him, using the heat she found there in his gaze to keep her going when the cool night air hit exposed skin. Nervous as she might feel, her pride would come first, and she titled her head up, even as her skirts pooled at her feet.
Her long red hair falling down was enough to cover her. He wanted truth, and he would have it. This was as bare as she could be, in the end. Nothing to hide behind, not now. ]
Well? [ Though she wasn't sure of the question she was asking. If he still found her desirable, still found her something -- to feel such need for. To possess for awhile. Or if he was just going to leave her standing here like a fool. ]
[It's communication with the slip of lace; like rope to a line being released and there's only the horizon to grasp. A million possibilities laid out on the distant line and when she laughs, the Sin's jaws whirl to a curve. Finding arrows at the ends of his lips and he opens his palm with a deafening sort of sound. Similar to a sword drawn and there's his second set.]
[Claws too black, following the pitch. Cold-hard carbon that makes the points of his nails thinner, sharper and it's a set of talons. Wrapped in something difficult to break and it's not as if he's about to let her handle everything on her own. That wouldn't be fair and since the evening has been rather tipped on his scale, he's not beneath a favor returned.]
[A jerk of the wrist sends them out. Cat-claws to scratch and he pops the remaining ribbons as the corset falls down. As the skeletal structure widens with the descent and it's wires to the pull. To fray under the pressure, snapping with every release of fabric.]
[But his smile is slightly warm to the question that comes: "Well?" Well, what. As if she expected him to stop and he barks. Loud enough, thunder to crack against his rib-cage, to echo back down into his wicked pit and Greed peels clothing away. From her back and out, only to be dropped in the collection and toed away.]
What? Did you expect me to say no? [The Sin teases, hiss of his voice the flavor of bones-rattling and claws snake up. The faintest touch of light igniting the smoothness, making tips shine as he hooks the nose-piece of his shades. Pulling them away, allowing her to take a glance. To see what's been staring back all this time.]
[They're made with the intention of a viper; with the instinct of something more and slit pupils dilate. Knock like ping-pongs, vibrating as they try to figure out whether to thin or thicken. Whether to stay put and Greed coils around. Slides his claws down her back, making them hop, skip, and jump where he found the proverbial speed bumps.]
Do you even remember who you're talking to, lovely? The name is Greed, after all.
You could. [ As his hands went to her bare skin, her own settled on his hip, fingers splayed wide as she ran her hand up -- and he teased her with his words. That he would leave her standing here, naked and wanting in the moonlight.
But she didn't think so.
Even so, she couldn't help tease. Her cool fingers slipping under his shirt, running circles, her lips finding his neck once more and marking skin in short little bites. ] You could leave me here, more fool me. What use would a devil have of me?
[ Though the sight of his two black claws where the hands that caressed her so sent a fever sick thrill down her spine as those talons trace down. They could so easily slit her throat. Like this, she was nothing but soft skin. Defenceless. ( and wasn't that why she so often said no? )
But he was a devil, after all and she had the proof of it now, pressed against her body. Her shoulders tensed for a moment, when all he did was tease her again, she let the fear slip away, her head rolling back as she took the time to enjoy it. God damn her all the same.
Still, when she looked back at him, the amusement was still there. ] Many a man is made of greed, and more than one of them has undressed a woman to find her displeasing to his eyes and not worth having after all.
Don't mistake me for someone else, Elizabeth. I'm not like the rest.
[Night-life from his fingertips; to chase down her back, mapping each knot of her spine. Each break of the bone at the smooth side of his claws, the parting of them bringing knuckles back and he jerks his head to line it up with the side of her own. Touching temple to temple, the best way to pay homage.]
[She's right; the description suitable and he's thought about it before. Hell out of his grasp, but he imagines that's where they're really come from. Out of the void and into flesh, birthed by bad blood and Greed breathes into the shelf of her ear when fingers go under his shirt. Skating across muscle and a mild retreat takes hold. Tattooed-palm now painted black, hitching brown fabric to rip it over his head. Shivering the spikes of his hair, a nest of quills and it's like a porcupine poised. Ready to shoot off, only to still when the threat's long passed.]
[And knuckle to knuckle, it falls. Dribbling, the last form of payment, all debts settled. Red to the skin and the same odd lines mark him. They're hot to the touch, the cruel fire she's accused him of being from in every-inch.] Many a man, sure. But remember - I'm not really human.
[The opposite; the basic concept of a human-born illness and he's the disease. Noxious in every flavor, sick with every breath. Poison to the weary and as he brings his lips back to her neck, that free hand shoots out. Jerk-motion of his arm sending his collection of leather bands flinging back. As he gingerly slides a nail down the curve of her hip, down the bump of her backside.]
[All the while, with teeth at the bend of her neck and the Sin hovers his points over a beating-jugular. Letting her pulse vibrate with his own, letting her feel just what sort of monster he really was. 'Shield sliding and smoothing, a tale written on never-ending parchment. A story with no happy ending and Greed hums. Moving in to smother, to drag claws across skin, to rock his hips against her own. A horrible tide coming into shore, bringing with it all the terrible remains.]
[But he's not here to harm or hurt; not here to leave her cold, with only the bitter memories to stale her tongue. No - he's here for far more and as he beckons her into his arms, he's tipping her. Just slightly, so that for once?]
[She can have someone else lift that weight away; someone else to shoulder the burden of those aching feet.]
[Greed opens his jaws slightly, a hiss to caress her skin.] And anyone who would say no to this would be stupid, lovely.
[ The second his chest is bared, she makes no hesitation to touch him. To slide her fingers across his skin, to run trace the lines that mark him so different to others. Ravenous in a way she had not been in so long. How court would laugh and be shocked, if they saw her such, her hands soft and rough in equal measure. Shivering as he breathed her in, feeling every breath of his, like it was taking something out of her. Leaving her empty and desperate to take back whatever it was he seemed to take her that left her so wanting.
She murmured it back to him, indistinct perhaps, a mixture of languages because one did not seem enough to describe. But it amounted to the same meaning, breathed against him, over and over with kisses pressed to his skin. ( I want you, I want you. ) ]
You shall not disappoint me, as all men do.
[ A ultimatum, a surety that he would never let her fall. Because this was nothing like what they offered. There was no politics, no cold words disguised as pretty sonnets, no false intentions held by expectations that had to be met. There was just a brutal, encompassing need, and he could not fail her in it, not as they did. They who could not warm her, soothe her, could not give her this truth -- and more base than that, when he rolled against her and she gasped again. Not this time, for air stolen from her, but with the heat that was like canon fire. Her nails raked down his back with viciousness that was not expected from a lady, but expected from a Queen.
With one hand, she could rule, and with the other, she would conquer.
Strange thing it is to be held and still keep her pride, but she would never waste a opportunity. Her leg slid so carefully up his side, forcing to press every intimate part of herself to him. Arms about his shoulders, as she steals a kiss again so briefly. ] Then do not waste me.
[ Her eyes still bright and her lips she knew, stained darker from kissing him. ]
[He's not gifted to the art of language and for a moment or two, his eyebrow raises as she speaks. Winding different noises from her mouth, though it's all too clear when her kisses trail and press. Easy enough to follow and he reads between the lines. The art of it lost to translation, but there's a mutual understanding.]
[They've been doing this too long for it not to come to this; each circling one another, two different harmonies finding a similar pulse and when her nails rake down, his dig in. A waltz all on its very own and he follows her two-step with a three-step. Scratches when she bites, kissing when she begs.]
[She's a ruler and she's made for it. Despite any calls to the contrary and she's right for the crown. But he's not interested in that, oh no. Being a ruler of a country is fine, but being king of the world?]
[That's something else entirely.]
[Her kiss keeps him silent, at least for a while. And as he lowers her to the ground below, he quickly moves to engulf her. Fire to the trail of gunpowder and she lit the match a long time ago. Months prior, when there were others to contend with and she had politely said no, in all manner of speaking.]
I don't plan to - I'm just not that kind of guy.
[When her back finds a solid surface, his claws retract. Instead, to smooth up her leg - jerking it without need of permission this time. Folding it to his back, running it along the jut of his hips, his torso. Melding the two together as his lips meet hers again. Shoving against them, dragging the points of his teeth to stain a darker color. Not to draw blood, of course. But to make them puffy and raw; to toss the curtain back and let her be her for once in her life.]
[Because avarice has no room for lies, no room for petty gestures. Sonnets and songs left to better men - or worse. But Greed didn't need them. Didn't want them. Complications of the court not his forte and he prefers things a bit finer, a bit more open. The underbelly of the world and that's where his kingdom truly lies. On the rough backside of bruised knuckles and terrible grins.]
[The 'Shield threatens to make her nails bounce as it shifts. The fluttering a wicked base-drum, sliding up and down. As if he's giving her the next taste of it and Greed lines his nails up with the inside of her thigh. Sliding back, dragging those deadly points to softer flesh. Chasing lines to a hint of red.]
[ Months ago, it had been different, though like this, now, she wondered how she'd kept him at bay so long. Now she felt mad, possessed with some kind of lunacy as she tried to press against him as much as she could.
The moment she settled against the earth, her back arched, her chest rising up, her hands stretched above her head, to give him the space to move his hands. Indulgent, as her leg was drawn around him. Hair sprawled about her head and she craved every way he touched her. A guiltless moan slipping her lips before she could bite down on it.
With her eyes closed, for the time being at least, she could enjoy every place his trailed over. His warmth was a comfortable one, between her legs, and she held him there, shivering as his claws trailed up. Almost too harsh on skin too soft, that had not been touched...
... well longer than was to be considered, either way, it made her frown in concentration, pausing in a breath drawn in. Desperate for something he was taking so long to give her. The next buck of her hips was so much more impatient.
God it felt glorious, to have want and wanting so free, rolling over the surface of her like a wave. ]
Since you asked, my love. [ She used the way her legs were wrapped around him as leverage before she rolled them back. The smirk slipping onto her lips was of pure satisfaction as her hands brace on his chest. A mock lovers tone, because they weren't any kind of sweetheart that poets wrote of. They were crueler, more vain, and more free than anything so simplistic, than that. The smugness and pride settled over her like hair did as it fell about her shoulders.
Smug like she had the finest stallion between her legs, and she had every intent to ride him. Her body more than accustomed to the roll of hips that went with it, all that power under her, like she felt the hundred times she'd ridden. She dipped her body over him, fitting herself against him, her knees either side of his hips and she took her time. Wondering from his lips, to his neck, and she bit like she intended to mark, teeth pulling until she hoped it stung.
Then further down she slipped, along the curious fire hot lines that marked him out from any other man. Her fingertips pressed against the bones of his hips, holding him still as she pressed warm open mouthed kisses to the dip of skin and bone. Not so rough as the ones that preceded it, she took her time. Dragging each kiss out as long as she could, before leaving another and another, a trail from one side to the other. Letters on a manuscript muttered in French and breathed out into him.
It was only after she was done, that she pulled herself back up, pressing her breasts flat against his chest as she lay against him once more. The same smug grin there, pleased with herself. ]
[When the world spins, it's to the tune of his laughter. Barking out to the moon and a creep of air escapes him. Like a puff of smoking from the gaping pit, his skull finding the cool touch of grass as she takes the reins and pulls.]
[Maybe in this situation, he is the prized horse. After months of trying and she's seizing the moment. To ride, to try to break him, and with the roll of her hips, he bucks to meet. As if he's threatening to send it right off, but it couldn't be further from the truth.]
[Elizabeth has always been similar to the kind of fighters he quickly got to know before. When he was stripped down and thrown into another vessel and their ways had been odd. Foreign like the language she speaks, a means to distract with one hand while the other was coming on quick with a blade. To kill with a hidden blow and all of her movements hark to the same.]
[Thankfully, he's not one easily surprised and when she makes kisses down those lines, he raises the temperature. Lets that unnatural heat flare in his arrays and they're similar to the red-hot stroke of a forge. To glisten in intricacies of a blade, to make it unique with the craftsman's own mark.]
Oh-? Didn't think you had it in you, lovely.
[Greed's not one to leave a deal without striking one of his own and claws meet when her breasts press against his chest. Shoving her up with another jerk of his hips, giving only a couple of seconds. Though, he's fast. Enough to settle a knee between spread legs, to let her ride out a thigh as he grinds it against her. Leather to naked flesh, the pool of fabric around them becoming more dense.]
[He takes a moment, though. To show off his collection of knives, slicing through the peeled-off remains. Letting cloth shutter and rip with ease before a palm comes out. To grip one of her wandering hands by the wrist, jerking it above his own skull. Forcing fingers to the spikes of his hair, every sharp point of him at her beck and all.]
[Greed pins it there and sure, it's an awkward angle. But it makes for a slippery slope and as his heels dig into the ground, he's sliding under her. Washing beneath her until her chest is at the mercy of his mouth and the Sin takes in an exposed nipple. Tugging it oh-so-gently between his teeth, tracing the round of it with an ear-tipped.]
[Because he wants to really hear it; everything she has to offer and he'll gladly take it all.]
[ It made her laugh, dry and deep from the back of her throat, cruel and for that, callous. ] Most don't. [ And they'd stood in horror when she killed as many as stood against her with a cold dismissive hand.
But she did not think Greed would shrink from her, for her cruelty. She was in good company. She regretted killing, but she'd never regret being strong. She did this in live defiance of them, of it all. She would be a woman and a Queen and she would lust as much as she reigned with ice in her voice. But the former would be his secret, in the end. And hers.
The press of his leg between hers, was enough to bring another gasp from her, a soft note to join the music between them. Her voice soft, an almost whine as she ground back against him. Wanting more than just that, but it seemed all he was willing to give her. The raw emptiness inside her building up still, where it had been a thought in her mind, now it seemed like a pressure.
Until he moved her and her head dropped by his, head cool against the grass the was underneath them, a hand sweeping across her neck to pull her hair out of the way. The hand not in his hair, curled into the earth instead as his teeth pulled in such a enticing way. Like this, she couldn't find his shoulder to smother herself, as she was so used to doing, couldn't bite down or swallow back the surprised gasped that escaped her, and she breathed out, her words became no more than a moan of pleasure. Strange that her loss of control shouldn't bother her, making sounds better fit for a harlot, but she wouldn't have him stop. Not for her kingdom or her crown, would she have him stop the way he made her whole body forget to breath, to do nothing but writhe against him.
The dirt was going to be embedded under her nails at how she pulled at it, trying to anchor herself back. Their secret. When he'd gone from her again, she'd ask to have this garden made private for her alone. She'd call it her garden of avarice, and her ministers would scold, and her skin would heat as it did now, every time she came here. Her secret, and it made her smile till her toes curled. ]
[For all the blood on her hands, for all the lives at her mercy, his is not. She could do whatever she wanted: shoot him, stab him, maim him, throw him to the pit, and still he'd find a way. Back from the black and smooth still. Maybe the definition of devil was right after all and as she groans, his smile widens around flesh. Opening of it wet and he trades teeth for a tongue. With the rough-crack of his lips to round and suck.]
[He can hear it, though. All the noises she makes and it's really too good. Far too kind and this is how he steals, how he keeps. Claimed not by chains to rattle or bars to hold, but by whispers that were anything but sweet-nothings. The choke of it raw, the sting of it to burn.]
[There's a smell of fresh dirt in the air when she bites nails in and he follows her. By tilting back his heel, forcing his rolling thigh to a stop. A jerk-still hold to apply the pressure and it's Hell's own game of chance.]
[All in, or all out.]
Sorry, lovely. You've got tell me - what is it you really want, hmn? [Greed's voice comes like sulfur. Too-hot, spewing with that sultry tone that seems to purr at his throat. His lips touching the naked part of her skin and he inhales softly; through his nose as he touches it to her breast.]
[Because while he won't exactly steal from her, he'll take. Snatch up whatever she's willing to give and it always comes to this: the final straw, to make or break a situation: a deal in the making.]
[But while he's demanding, he's not entirely ruthless and one claw extends. The feline to the kill, lining it up at the dip of her tail-bone. He settles there, though, and only trails up when he hears the earth moving again. When dirt grinds and there'll be evidence under her nails for someone else to take care of.]
blaaah sorry if this was terrible fjdfds was half asleep
[ It takes will -- and a formidable one at that, -- to force her mind back from the tremble in her hands and arms, from the fever hot feeling building up in her stomach, between her legs. Where the slight touch was both too much and too little. The too tense way she held herself even as she forced herself up to look down at him.
She was too impatient, always had been, and she made a short noise to that end, her hips grinding down against his when he asked, as if he didn't know what she so greatly wished for. ]
As if you do not know. Would you have me beg? [ Laughing, she pushed at his shoulder. Then she dipped her head and nipped at his ear, her tongue flicking gently and she let out a sigh as his finger brushed across the base of her spine. The shiver working it's way up her flushed and too warm skin.
But she could tell him, keep her dignity and say the truth all the same. It wasn't a command or a demand. Nor was it begging. She expected and knew he would not fail her. That was not how their business worked. Even if instead of secrets of others that they so usually traded, it was heat and selfishness. ] I want to be a woman, for awhile. [ and she nipped at his ear, as if she could not bare the implications of those words, and she would rather sound playful than lonely. ] I want to touch as other women do and be touched the same. [ Not forever, not even until sunrise. But for now, for now it was all she wanted. Like this, without state pressing on her, she could tease and mock and have it all there, sitting below the surface with so little mask to cover it.
Her eyes lowered, admiring his chest, the curve of his muscles, and her finger traced across his collar bone, tapping there. ] I would have you be the one to ease this -- [ the relentless heat, the shivering and it seemed like bottomless hunger that every priest warned against when they spoke of avarice ] -- that you started in me, my love. I want you to be selfish with me. I want to be selfish with you. [ Her head tilted, bemused almost at her own honesty. ] Do I need to say more?
[ It was less, than some men wanted, but more than she had given anyone else. ]
[He's silent at her proclamation; when she lets it all out, piece after piece, inch after inch. The only noise coming from him the parting of his lips to reveal a more jagged grin. One that prods and pushes, applying pressure to every part of his face that it graces.]
[Then, finally, he simply answers:] That's all I needed to hear, lovely.
[Greed's a basic need and there's no use denying it. Denying want, need, desire; lusting after things, possessions, sex, and status. Everyone wanted something and in the end, Elizabeth was the same. Taken by both the textbook tale and the living embodiment. To grab the heart and sink its teeth in and Greed moves to her command. Lifting from the torso and he hooks a claw between silver-steel and leather. Tears the clasp with a quick-fling jerk of a nail to open his slacks.]
[But he wastes little time and his legs drop and splay. Snatching her by those hips to roll her into original positions taken: back to stage one, her spine to the cool earth as he rides his own thighs. Lifting, rising and Greed watches her from the elevated position. Moon at his back, caressing over strange skin and a tight jaw.]
[For few seconds, then, he merely stares. With eyes made for the dark, the gentle-tick of a widening glance making those sharp-pupils expand. Predatory, dangerous, but oddly sincere.]
[Before it's all gone in a flash of too-white teeth.]
[The Sin takes a belt-loop in the curve of his thumb and in two-quick jerks, he's freeing himself from the constant leather. Making it wash and fall over his hips, down his thighs. Pooling at the knees and he shoves pants and boots aside with a kick-back of a leg.] Why don't you show me just who you really are, then.
[It's stated even as he eases himself back over her. Taking a shoulder and tipping them both. Until his own blades hit the ground with an audible thud, allowing her the perch she so rightly deserves. So desperately wants. On top of him and she can reign Queen however she likes. He wouldn't take that from her, not now, not when she's been so honest and as a set of talons grab her thighs, Greed motions the other to his mouth. 'Shield tumbling, flipping over and over itself until he's only got flesh to match.]
[He inspects his fingers, if only for a moment. Shrugs and shoves two into his mouth. Prodding past teeth, letting a tongue slide between to slick the surface and both release with a single pop of his gums. Surface-wet like black ice and he crawls a hand between her legs. Searching blindly, that look of his never leaving her eyes.]
Glad to hear you're finally seeing things my way, Elizabeth. No need to deny what you really want, after all. [Honest, to the point, and not in the fashion most normal men would speak. As if they were forcing the act, but even The Avaricious has standards, morals.]
[So when he presses moist fingers between her legs, it isn't forceful. Isn't even hard. Just a slight coil of knuckles laced. To feel and prod; to tease and caress.]
[Because he'll wait it out - for as long as it takes and he'll enjoy every second he can covet.]
[ She wondered what he saw, as she gazed up at him, outlined in the moon and the stars. Her hand raised, and she traced the edge of his jaw, fingertips against rough skin, her smile soft and as sincere as the look in his eyes.
At least before she's helping him take off his pants, those fingers of hers greedy for the flesh -- and whatever else he was besides -- to be pressed against her. ]
Only for now, Greed. [ For now, for now, as if it made it less of a sin, as if she has as much conviction in the warning that he already knows. But as she slides herself over him, settling her legs either side of him, one warm kiss pressed to his chest before she moved it sit up straight.
And it's a second -- when his fingers reached where she had wanted pressure for so long, where she'd grown so warm and slick -- that everything goes from her mind. Her head tilted back and her lips parting in a word that never made it that far. As much pleased by it as she was surprised, the soft little shocked gasps that followed as the heat spread and curled through her.
But she'd said selfish and selfish was what she was, in the end, when her hand caught his wrist, to keep him right as he was. Her brow furrowed, lips pressed together tightly as she hummed softly to no true melody. ]
[When she catches his wrist, he pauses. A flick of the eyes up and there's no mask to hide the look he gives. That carved-out smile and a hooded gaze that's both heavy and light at the same time. He tilts his head just slightly, cants it to the side with the shift of heavy muscle.]
Oh-? Just for now? That's not really very nice, lovely.
[But Greed's not about the question it too far and he knows if he takes another step, it'll all slip away. So the 'Shield falls and he gives back, if only just a little. The flesh of his knuckle exposed and it's raw, hard. A bit calloused, yet oddly soft at the same time. A balance between impossibles and sometimes, he can play the part just as well.]
[His finger turns clockwise. Slow, deliberate, and utterly ruthless. Following the hum of her melody and Greed lifts. Hovers with the help of his torso to place his teeth against the side of her neck. He breathes her in there, letting the noises she makes rattle in his ear. This is his favorite kind of melody, one not barred by poise and practice. By rules or regulation and it's a kind of freedom he's always had a craving for:]
[The right to choose.]
[Heat ignites those lines. Running a marathon up his shoulders, across his hips, and he doesn't hesitate the next move. Doesn't think about where to place the pawn and he only shifts. The jagged motions of his body giving him away and he finds the home between her thighs. Prodding and pushing until he's in and for a moment, the Sin stays that way. Hovering at the edge, feeling something he's craved for far too long.]
[Until a mouth snaps open and Greed's got her by the dip of her shoulder. Holding with a set that's sharp, but aware; that's she's just flesh and blood at the end the day and if he slips, there'll be more than the mark on her skin.]
[ It takes a while to even recall what he said, too focused on the way he teased her. But when she does, she watches him with low eyes. Sitting in his lap, like this, feeling him torment her and give her pleasure in so equal amounts. The anger she might of spat otherwise was simply not there, just a quiet longing she has not the sense to hide. It's longing that did this to her, that brought her into his embrace.
But in this life, in the end, it came down to much the same thing. ] I think you should hate me if I gave you more. [ It's breathed out, and the words were so full of regret. Bitterness etched into it, but wistfulness too. She'd long accepted, that what she was, was utterly unlovable. Not as a Queen, not as a woman, and she must have both. It was for the best, she told herself, she hardly knew what to do with her own weaknesses, let alone giving them to another to see.
But all the world had her as a Queen, he had her as a woman. A trembling, desperate, hungry and flushed woman pressed skin to skin with him -- and it would be enough. To have a respite for awhile. Eyes closed as she enjoyed how he touched her. When he bit she did nothing but expose her neck to him, stretching herself out for him to do as he may. She was far beyond caring about such a thing.
Not when -- and now she whimpers, softly gasping out -- as he slipped up and into her and she wants ( shewantsshewantshewants ) to move, to grind down. But not when he's so still, and she can feel it, all of him. His stillness is a contrast to her sharp gasp and needy moans that come so close to begging that he move, that he let her move.
But she can't with teeth set so close to her throat, a wolf's jaw that nuzzles her, and she can feel his warm breath on her skin as much as where his teeth almost could draw blood. But it's their dance, where he is kind, she is vicious, and where he is deadly, she is giving. So her hands swept up his back, into his hair and then down again. Whatever it took to soothe him, to coax him. Could pretend that it wasn't because she couldn't keep still, that way.
And then, so very carefully, she shifted her hips against his, biting her lip to keep herself silent from it. ]
[She didn't give a damn about redemption. Not in this way, not by the manner in which she grabbed and held. By the way she used her own weapons against him, asking without words. And while Greed, himself, was a monster by every single definition, he isn't so cruel to hold out on her for very long.]
[That wouldn't have been very far, after all.]
[So his hips roll and there's Hell between her thighs. Between him and her and oh, he'll just draw it out. Sin to sin, devil to devil, and he's so close to the fire. Nearly born from it and that carbon-coating at his fingers comes running back. Crawling just as slow as his pace. As he rolls and rocks his hips to the tune of a dying pulse. Just waiting for the end to take them, but he won't let it come that quickly.]
[Greed releases his teeth just to take a glance. Yes - she's Queen to everyone and anyone and he's the exception to the rule. Always had been and here, in this court, under her watchful eye and against the land that is so rightfully hers, the situation hadn't changed that much.]
[Usually, he'd talk. Hum and drag whatever noises out of his lover to a demand of his own. But not right now - voice exchanged for a growl that vibrates and latches to his throat. As he holds her hips and guides her to the beat. Pushing her back as he pulls out, dragging her forward when he rides in. Moving like a wave and it's a bad tide. Coming to shore to snag a wandering ankle and it'll be the undertow all the way down.]
[A whimper sends an eyebrow up, though. Distant yet there: almost removed. He's close enough that most people wouldn't know - not at a quick glance anyway - that he isn't human. But on close inspection and even closer relation, the signs are obvious to anyone paying the littlest of attention. His movements erratic, his expressions somewhat practiced.]
[It makes it easier to understand - a mutual fuck with royal blood and there isn't a need to worry about what dawn would bring.]
[Greed removes a claw from her hip. Flips it palm-up to her as he drags knuckles and the smooth side of his nails back up her rib-cage. Touching until he's got the shelf of her face in his palm and those talons extend. Wrapping around hair to hold her, the bucking of his hips keeping up with an elongated rhythm.]
[It's then that he shoves a nose to her ear, moving his torso vertically to meet. An awkward angle, but it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He merely snatches the bottom half of her ear in his teeth, tapping the edge of his claws down her cheek.]
[ Almost the instant he began to move, the pressure began to build in the base of her spine. She can stand the slow pace he sets, because it is worse than not moving, and with his hold of his hands on her hips, she can become mindless to it. Her arms sliding over his shoulders, fingers knotting tightly until her knuckles turned white, with each slow rise and pull of her hips.
Like this, she's unaware of him looking at her, reacting to her, even as she reacts to him. It's been too long -- and for that it might be her undoing. All that matters to her, is fitting herself against him, whining softly when he left her empty, and sighing when he pressed back in.
This, all of this, she had no word for. She had no place doing this at all. But it was right to her, that they did all of it against earth and sky, and no one else. Better than being married, here she could be herself, rather than the priests watching, muttering prayers like it would ensure that she would get with child. She had no idea what it was like to be bedded for the sake of state, and she never would -- God willing, she never would.
It was more amusing to think how he would fare, with a priest and court watching. ]
Greed. [ A sharp word at how he twisted her, surprised by it momentarily. It slips her out of rhythm with him for a moment. Because his teeth were at her ear, his fingers tugging at her hair and so much like a doll as she twisted around him. The shudder making her back arch as she moved that little more insistently against him. The next stroke up, and she brought herself down that little harder, whole body clenching a little, her shoulders tense and her lips opened to a moan to echo the growl she felt rumble in his chest more than she heard.
But more than that -- and God forbid she should not be welcoming to any part of him -- her head turned that little bit, to press her lips against his claw. Hardly bothered by the black that crawled along and covered him, wondering if it tasted different to his skin. Her eyes open just enough to watch him react. Watching the blackness that shifted like a living thing on his body. Where his hand cupped the dip of her hip, the flex of his muscles as he moved with her. The contrast of all that dark against her white skin. ]
[Truth be told, he had visited a church before. Prior to her and hers; before he had been snatched from his own world and spat back into another. Like a plague: wet and sticky, crawling out of the abyss.]
[But back then, things had been different and he had been another sort of monster. His history darker now than he presented. Made in blood with a slow-strut to the altar and Hell followed with him.]
[But Greed was himself - he was just that. Avaricious, the title befitting the name, and he left it all behind for the pursuit of his own happiness. Which was a twisted reflection and even here, there's something off. The sex not between lovers, but business partners and oh, would he just smile and smile at any sort of pastor that may have gave him presence.]
[Instead, though, Greed grins at her. Turns lips against one another and presses them still.]
[Silently, he opens up his hand when she kisses it out. Showing her all his daggers, all his weapons, and he's entirely made for mass destruction.] Go ahead - I won't hurt you, lovely.
[The Sin can't help when he purrs out his words. His name is on her lips and when she turns, he turns. Following, two snakes to snare each other in the cruelest sort of mating ritual.]
[But unlike what may have been - what could have been and what so many seemed to want - he couldn't give her that. The next line of kings and that would have to be saved for something else. That didn't mean Greed didn't take pleasure in the moment. He had other intentions and they called just for the feeling of it. Grinding his hips against her own, threatening to crack and split one another.]
[Greed gives her his shoulder then, slipping his claws away as his knuckles thicken. Black like ink and the tips are as sharp as any quill - sinking into one of the arrays caressing over the dip of his shoulder. He drags his nails there, showing her just where to go - where the wicked-electric begins with a spark to ignite and he's the red-light district in every sense of the word.]
[How the light touches his face, how it seems to turn eerie purples bloody. But he's not the sort for violence - not here and certainly not with his company and he removes his nails as the lines mend. As his core flickers across his shoulder to seal it off completely.]
[He swipes the blood off with flick, letting the last dregs of a spark dance on his tongue. Before it's all clean and slick and wet. A new sort of instrument and he falls away from her violently. Letting his shoulder blades fan out across the dirt, making a hollow thud and his feet find anchor. The sound of his defenses rising where toes ought to be and he sinks his second set into the earth. Uses it as leverage to push himself deeper, to raise her higher.]
[And his knuckle slides between spread thighs - her own and his - caressing where his cock ends and she begins. His smile vicious, but knowing.]
[ His words were all the incentive she needed -- and not that she needed very much to begin with. Adjusting her hold on him slightly, to hold his hand steady as she kissed his claws, her tongue flicking ever so gently. Teasing, tasting, gauging him and his reactions as she ever did her deals with him.
And really -- this hardly felt like reality, like something she was doing was real when she watched him draw blood and heal himself in the same breath. Stranger than all the priests ever said in their books. At any other time, she'd record it carefully. Be fascinated and appalled in equal measure.
But now? she found it just all to follow one seamless movement, as soon his shoulder was bared, her head dipped, pressing her lips, her teeth and her tongue over where the cut had run. Tasting no blood, at least not until she snatched a kiss off him. But it was fleeting, gone before she'd taken another gasp in. Like he had with her, her teeth found the dip of his neck in the second before he pulled away, settling on the ground again.
Elizabeth is frustrated with him, for a moment, she liked his heat, when it was close. Every bit of hellfire she could have under her palms. But he is a devil -- and he does so torment, or at least she realized in the moment his hand moved. In that, if she had his claws, his teeth, he would be cut to ribbons, the hand braced on his chest sunk in and scratched down. But it was an absent action, and selfish she was, the particulars of him were forgotten as she shuddered and writhed.
All that mattered was having every inch of him, and how hard it was to keep silent if this continued.
Being caught like this would be the death of her, in the end. As much as she might of forgotten all else, she didn't trust the hedge walls and stones to keep this as quiet as she'd like. The cry that came from her was smothered against the back of her hand. Teeth biting into her knuckles, but it still didn't keep it all down. The sound bubbling up and coming free despite her best efforts at each deep movement, rattling it from her. Symptoms of a cause.
It was the riddle of her existence, that it must all be locked up deeply inside of her. ] Greed, they'll -- [ - another cry and her head tipped back, feeling the heat curl in her stomach, gone again in the slide of his cock out and then back in -- ] they'll hear.
[ As much of a warning as she could get out, gasped and panted out. Something like begging or as close as she would ever come to it, in this.
[His eyes go shut when her teeth meet his skin, but it isn't with the same heavy lust. It's something of a crooked smile, one that's hard to read: both sinister and kind. Both relentless and giving. An anomaly all by itself and wasn't he just the definition: something that wasn't quite human, but teetered on the brink of the idea. Something that should have had her pinned down and torn apart, but wouldn't raise a hand even if he was forced. Each part of him a contradiction. From the name he held to the weapons he harbored.]
[It was, is, and would be why he always turned tail from the rest of kin.]
[He laughs, though, when she struggles to make words. When they're jumbled and it's the sweetest kind of payout. The whole pile of chips to run through his knuckles and he pulls himself out completely. Only to shove himself in deeper, slowly, savoring the moment. While his finger unfurls and Greed strokes to the beat. As if in an afterthought.] Oh-? Didn't think that really mattered here, lovely.
[But he offers his lips instead. His own throat more suitable than cries shoved to the proverbial pillow and the Sin takes her mouth with his. Tongue to prod, following the gesture of his grinding hips. Smothering her with all the heat she so desperately wants and he lifts with his thighs. With his heels. Up and down, in and out. Letting her ride as hard as she wants, but he'll torture as good as the rest.]
[She hasn't said no - hasn't told him to stop. Nothing but that need saying more than any worries she may have and Greed can't help his grin. It's the cat that's got all the cream and oh, does it just pour and pour and pour.]
[One finger's followed by a second. And a third. Running from the hidden bend and away and he's caressing her hip, dragging knuckles across her bones. Until he dips to where his stomach meets and muscles tense. Giving him room to slip between her legs, grabbing her sex between two splayed-fingers and he pinches there. Rolls, jerks, and twists.]
[ He was like water, holy to her in her desperation. Her lips finding his and it isn't so much to kiss, but as he offered, a place to smother her cries, emptying them against his lips. Each one of them a mix of words and meanings, taken out of her in short pantings breaths. She forced herself down harder against him, her hands listless running over him, pulling and tugging him at him. Nails raking on his shoulders, feather light on his stomach and grasping at his hair when she needed him to hold still just so. Enough that she could hide the sound of her own lust against his skin.
And she might of laughed -- breathless and stolen in seconds, against his lips. Pulling back only to stare at him in bemusement mixed with all else that fluttered through her. ] Me? Alone? When is a Queen ever truly alone. [ Anger there too, maybe, but gone again in a instant. ]
[ It fits in some way he wouldn't make it easier for her all the same. HIs rough fingers finding exactly what they want on her body like he had been doing this for years. She has the spare second, biting down hard on his shoulder as she cried out louder again. Something that would have been too distinct, too obvious to anyone listening. For him, and only for him. But then, not at all, for herself. She wanted this, wanted to be like any other woman, even if that wasn't strictly true, but she wanted and wanted and wanted. He worked her body over like she was instrument he knew well how to play, and when she kissed him again, he frustration showed. Her legs shaking, clinging to him, and she felt savage and empty and like she was near to drowning.
But not enough, never enough. Her movements speeding up, asking without saying, because her pride would never allow that. It was however acceptable enough to torment him as much as he did her. Finding every part of him to trace over and mark as her own. ]
[It's messy and dirty and anything but pretty. Least to any normal mind. When her lips smash against his red and the Sin parts the way with a grin to give even a Hell a run for its money. Eyes shut, neck craning forward to guide those moans down his throat. They echo there, like the long-lost souls in a cave that stretches for hours, for days. Crying out, but there's no use, not here.]
[They're both far too gone for that.]
[But she's got a country to think about - not that Greed really cares and he should have seen the bite at his shoulder coming. He 'tsks' with his teeth peeled apart, tilting his head away so that she can have at it. It'll heal anyway and what's a few brief marks between good ol'chums.] And what's the point of a ruler if you're still thinking that small?
[Queen, king, emperor: it didn't mean shit to him. His avarice ran far too deep, like wires through the underground and on and on it went. To him, land was good, money was better, but ruling the entire world?]
[Is so much sweeter.]
[Though, he just leaves it at that. For now, at least, and instead chooses to run his fingers a bit harder, driving them down where her sex dips and he begins. Greed pinches once, if not just to tease, while his other hand makes claws at her back. A crackle of noise, the sound easy enough to recognize by now, and he's got the smooth side of his talons riding the bumps of her spine. The bucks of her hips.]
Mn - take it easy, Elizabeth. [The Queen is desperate to conquer, always. But he just isn't the kind that can be - not even his own flesh and blood had the power to do it and she certainly doesn't. But those thighs squeeze oh-so-good and Greed's got no shame in hiding it. How much he likes when she rides him, when she bites him. When she tries so damn hard.]
[So, he opens his lips. Lets her hear a grunt or two - feral, obscene. Though, he's never made any notion to the contrary.]
[ It's not a surprise that Alec can't figure out what Greed is getting from their mutual association, but it is a little bit of a surprise that it bothers him so much. After all, it's clear the other man is possessive to a degree that's ridiculous, and it's only the fact that Alec doesn't think he's worth having that keeps him from chafing under it. ]
[ There's an undertone of danger, as well, that Alec likes, no matter how many times that Greed assures that he's not going to hurt him. There was that with Richard, and Alec imagines Greed as the sort of man who's capable of killing a lover, particularly if the lover spurned him. ]
[ That's not really the point, because Alec's not that sort of manipulative, couldn't manage intimacy if it were only going to be false. It's just part of the appeal, the potential for violence, even if Alec likes to watch it as much or more than he likes to be its recipient. ]
Are you a man used to getting everything you want, or just what you need?
[ As far as openings for flirting go, it's awkward, but this is one arena where Alec isn't confident of his own knowledge, nor capable of acting that way regardless. ]
[Glass of scotch half empty by now. Ice teetering on the collapse and the left-over collection slides when he motions it to empty table. Arms occupied, but he ushers his nameless guests away with a toss of his fingers. With a promising smile and hushed sort of whisper:] I'll be there in a minute.
[When the two leave, his attentions return. Alec hasn't been the easiest of his possessionsemployees to get along with. Tongue always sharp and dismal, but they've known one another long enough and if anything, his always did come first.]
[So he opens up a hand. Palm churning on the axis of a wrist, beckoning the other with a silent sort of gesture.] But that really shouldn't be a surprise to you, right? Or is it something else you're interest in?
[Because when it comes down to it, he's never been the sort to deny an offer given. Flirtation not lost on him and the Sin spreads his thighs. Slides both heels from their perch at the table, motioning them away with ease. With that slippery notion and it's entirely him; the bar, the setting. Every inch his domain and he reigns as king. Crown of the would-be underworld made in cold-hard cash; with liquor, women, and everything in between. The whole cache his own; to hold with covetous claws, a devil nestled with ill-gotten gains.]
[At least he was honest about the arrangement.]
[Greed reaches beyond; fingers stretching, body moving with the pull of a torso and he's snatching at the remains of a cigarette smoldering away in an ashtray. Butt-end snagged in thick knuckles and Greed takes a drag as he peels eyes away for a moment. Sunglasses shifting from the sickly-yellow overhang, falling back into a cut of shadow. And his smile is wide, grin the Cheshire's favorite moon. Cut thin and sharp.]
Just come out with it - not like I'm about to judge you. But I need to know what you really want, hmn?
[Alec cocks a hip out, but embarrassment always finds itself chased with anger in him, and so his eyes are hard, though whether that anger will be directed at himself or at Greed if it has cause to linger is something yet to be determined.]
[Greed is all the more attractive here, in this space he owns, when Alec himself has never belonged anywhere, not as thoroughly as this. He's always been out of place, tripping over his own limbs and words and all the other people in the world, but that's really as good as he gets.]
I might be inclined to ask if you have all of that.
[Alec shifts towards Greed and into his space, with all the wariness of any bird that's interested in the promise of being fed, or a cat still eager to be pet.]
But I think we both know that that's not really the matter at hand.
[Alec swallows, throat working for a moment.]
I have more to offer you, if you want it.
[Alec reaches his hand out then, fear and wariness overcome by stubbornness, as he ghosts his hand onto Greed's thigh.]
[A slow arching of the brow. As lines become a bit more blurred and the silver-blue haze of smoke drifts across his knuckles. As hand comes to a thigh and he understands. Alec has always been the sort to put on airs; to put up defenses as soon as reality came crashing forth and there's only the truth to stare back at. Mocking every action made and the Sin slides his arm back. Rests an elbow to the shelf of his seat.]
[As if he doesn't need any further explanation.] No, it's not. But you could have said something earlier. Would have made it a bit more easy on yourself.
[Though, he's not about to force it. Not yet, anyway. And that stretched out hand finds the dip of his companion's back. Fans out, knuckle after knuckle, palm flat.]
You and I both know that's a stupid question - [The Sin trails off as the last lick of smoke trails off his tongue. Parting away with that wicked grin and he's too sharp. Too jagged to even remotely be called human and thighs spread as if on instinct. Birthing a place to sit by his side as Greed tilts his head. The heaviness of his gaze obvious. Despite the hollows of his shades that seem to see right through and he snaps his tongue with a click.]
You do and if anything, mine always come first. [Free hand to catch water at the lip of his scotch and he presses it. Sweat between a thumb and an index, slowly moving. As if taunting in every touch and he meets the other half way. Mouth and teeth too close to a throat and he whispers; as if there's a big secret between the two of them and it's all better left unsaid.]
So how about we skip the usual bullshit and get to the point?
[Alec's lips tick up into a smile, because it's a ridiculous thought, and that makes it all the more the sort of thought that he wants to indulge and tease out, until the absurdity is exhausted.]
[He wants to lick the smoke out of Greed's mouth, but he's too slow, still not sure if he's welcome (still wholly convinced that he can't be).]
[Instead he feels Greed against him, and it's only that much that springs him into action, long thin line of his arm reaching out to pull himself onto Greed's lap, trusting that he won't fall -- or that if he does fall it will be no less embarrassing than all the rest of this could be, can still be.]
How flattering.
[But of course, it's not that, it's both more and less. Because Greed is what he is, and it's not the same as finding out that a self-possessed man (or woman, even if Alec has yet no experience with those) is interested in him, because there's a fascination there that flows from Alec to the other man, that makes him want to figure out what makes Greed tick, and how he thinks.]
[It means there's less room to doubt himself, because curiosity always has that effect.]
[When Alec slips in, Greed coils up. A python to its catch and he places the length of his arm to the other's back. Holds him still, adjusting the threat of a slip to right him just so. Spreading his thighs, giving a tilt forward so that foreheads practically knock.]
You really haven't been paying attention at all, have you. [The Sin says and oh, there's that grin. That smile that's sick and jagged; laced heavily with hell-fire and warm just the same. Something that's not quite right, not quite human. The flavor of it similar, but there's the kick at the back of the throat to change the pallet.]
[Greed pushes his forehead to Alec's. Shoves flesh to flesh as his hand opens and spreads. He slides down a back exposed, running the pads of his fingers over fabric. Makes it ripple and twist.]
[By comparison, he's small. Small with enough of a back-lashing tongue to play the devil at his own game. Swimming in water invested with one shark alone and the kid's already made it clear that he doesn't care about the cuts. The bruises or the blood.]
[In fact, that seems to be the only thing he really, truly wants.]
[But things surprise and Greed's not a creature to say no. Especially not when an opportunity strikes his fancy and his teeth open just a crack. Alighting the points, drawing them crooked. An opening maw to swallow and he whispers to a neck as he tips his head lower. To shove himself underneath Alec's eager throat.]
What, were you expecting something else? I thought I made it pretty clear, Alec. Everything in this world is mine, after all.
[The homunculus flicks up his glance and his shades fall. Purple-gaze exposed. Eye to eye, tooth to tooth and his fingers trail back up. To push at the base of the other's skull, sinking his nails in just to bite and scratch. But not to harm, not to leave a mark.]
[Because he knows better and this arrangement's something a bit more than a casual fuck between good ol'chums. Something else, something more and if anything, he's at least built for the occasion.]
[Click and a free hand reaches past the grab at the left-overs of his scotch.] Eh- [Greed says as he shoves a nose to Alec's throat, inhale crisp.] - you're not going to be entirely honest with me, are you?
[Alec's spine is sharp under his skin, as sharp as his cheekbones and his words, all parts of him prickly and not a piece soft, not to a point where he'd even admit that much to himself.
His head tips back, baring his throat and Alec licks his lips, vulnerable and resolute at the same time. He wants this so much, even if the 'this' can be coached in only the vaguest of terms and the 'wanting' is something that Alec himself knows isn't healthy, and can't be too concerned about that fact. Maybe being the moth is never a particularly good call, but fire burns so brightly, and there's no use in being cold or alone in the dark either.]
I should certainly hope not.
[Alec's chin drops then, jutting out, as green eyes connect with purple, Alec's own filled with all sorts of things that he can and can't say, but inside all of that, challenge. The question of if Greed actually thinks he can handle Alec in this way, the expectation that he wants to -- not a hard confidence to have, when he's already admitted that much.]
What would the fun of that be?
[Alec's not exactly experienced in this, but he's certainly going to pretend to be more so, and he's not virginal, for all that a stray comment can sometimes make him react that way if he's not prepared for it, if he gets caught unaware. This isn't that sort of situation, and he imagines that there's not really anyone that could be fully prepared for an encounter with Greed.
That's at least a part of the appeal.]
Unless that's a part of your deal?
[That he will be honest or that he wants honesty... Alec leaves it ambiguous because the scorn in his voice would be there either way.
He trails his fingers across Greed's chest then down to the base of his shirt, to start to pull it up, to let his fingers slip underneath.]
[One heel kicks back to dig into the floorboards as Greed listens with unwavering attention. Even as eyes watch and ears tip in their direction, he keeps his stare on Alec. Taking in every note, every hitch of his breath and bump of his skin. For his age, he is incredibly sharp - bones just under the skin and covered only by a thin layer.]
[Somehow, Greed expects this is the way the kid wants to be. So, he doesn't pry the issue.]
[But he does raise a finger from his glass, when he's asked: whether or not the honesty is needed to seal the arrangement and the Sin chases a laugh over the bare of Alec's throat. Warm and foreboding, a touch of fire at every word he utters:] No, it's not a deal breaker. But I'd prefer it - after all, I've always done you the favor. Seems only fair, right?
[Though, Alec's not one to play by rules. Challenge and it's in his eyes, his voice. His body and every movement he makes; the younger to take on the Alpha and Greed moves his skull when a chin comes down. To round the edge of a neck, teeth parting at the shell of an ear.]
[The glass thuds behind them and Greed momentarily lifts his gaze away. Meeting the dull cough of an intruder and he greets with a growing smile.] Another one of these - [Tap, tap, tap to the rim of the glass.] - actually, make it two.
[The drink drags away at Alec's back. Taken by another of his many possessionsemployees, bringing back privacy. Of which, Greed doesn't waste.]
[Instead, he grabs Alec's chin. Forcing it to tilt with a thumb and an index. Stroking a knuckle to his cheek.] I know you're a liar, Alec. But it doesn't seem right - you don't need to hold anything back, not with me.
[Alec stiffens, goes rigid against Greed as soon as that intruder arrives and stays that way even after he's gone.]
[Stupid, stupid, to think that just because they were gone they would stay that way.]
[Naive, and unjustified as well, and so doubly unforgivable.]
[So Alec won't allow the touch to melt him, even as he does allow himself to moved, permits the touch with a little less enthusiasm, but still more than he should be doing in public.]
We should go somewhere private.
[Alec forces a little of the tension out of his spine, but it's clearly an artificial sort of relaxing now, and then he's moving to slide off of Greed's lap, before the person returns with drinks.]
Somewhere that will allow us to enjoy this a little more.
[And it's a good thing that he hadn't promised not to lie, because he's still doing it with his voice and that studious air of false comfort that isn't actually going to fool either of them.]
[And he knows when to take a hint. It's a tell-tale sign the moment Alec goes stark-still and slides away. Asking without as much as a whisper and it's more of demand if anything else.]
[Greed isn't too bothered by it.]
[Instead, he places one hand to his own thigh, hoisting right up. The other reaches across ashy smoke to clip the two-offered drinks by the lip. They rattle when the bang together, clinking and grinding against each fragile edge.]
C'mon, then.
[Because he's not about to wait; not when what he wants has been sorely interrupted and the Sin births from the outside curb of his table. Side-stepping to find a winding road of more of the same, dipping in and sliding out with the graceful movements of an adder.]
[The music shifts when he moves. From the lull-hum of jazz, to a luscious strum of a single string-guitar. A waltz in step, though the lyrics don't quite fit: "We spoke of was and when, although I wasn't there. He said I was his friend, which came as a surprise."]
[There's enough space between them now and Greed stops at the foot of a winding staircase. Old, rickety - smudged in scuffs and smears from God-only-knew-what. But even that wasn't quite right. No God to harbor, not at these shores, and it's only the wealth of Hell that lines the walls. That keeps the bar holding together and Greed tosses up his free hand. Mark on the backside of his palm practically glowing in the yellowing-haze.]
[Alec can't deny the note of relief that seeps into his voice, the pleasure at the fact that Greed is going along with moving them, rather than simply calling this whole thing off as too much bother.]
[What Alec wanted, he'd said, and it seems as though he might have even meant it.]
[Alec takes the steps the way he's told to, staircase the familiar enough sort for him, given his location and era, as familiar in feel as the opulence and wealth that glitters everywhere he looks.]
[Alec was right, this is the sort of man that his grandmother's ruby belongs with.]
Is one of those drinks for me, or were you just trying to stock up?
[Alec asks it once he's at the top of the stairs, but he holds his hand out for one of the glasses, expectant all the same.]
Or I suppose they could be to save for a toast, after.
[Greed tilts his head up and meets Alec with a warm sort of smile. One that isn't entirely laced with that sickly-nature of his. More of a simmer. Like coal-fire stroked to life and he takes the steps one at a time. The wood underneath groaning and ringing hollow under every heavy clip of solid heels.]
One for you and one for me. Though if it isn't your sort of thing - [His words filter off, slithering away from a tongue-forked. Eyebrows curving to follow his shades and he shrugs his shoulders. As if the rest could speak for itself.]
[Upstairs is far darker. The light from below receding to shadow, the haze drifting up from the bar settling between the floorboards. Other doors stay-half cracked down the splay of hallway, letting in sharp-cut lines of light to break up the constant shadow. Every moment of space undulating: from black to gold and back again.]
[It's fitting, if anything.]
[Greed's slow when he walks. Cutting heel over heel, point over point. It's practiced the way he saunters, like he's strutting all the way to the end. Hips swaying ever-so slightly and his torso moves. Left, right, left to catch up with the other and the Sin bends. Falls over the shelf of his hips, that smiling breaking with a wet-smack of his lips.]
A toast? Sure, if that's what you really want. [It's a weird request, but hey. Whatever the other wants and Greed finds the last door at the end of the corridor. Shoves his elbow to it and the clasp pops, the knob rolls. It's old and the fixings aren't exactly cream-of-the-crop. But he's never been one to judge a book by its proverbial cover.]
[No - avaricious nature finding the value in things most would take for granted and Greed slips right in. To a room that doesn't seem to have a light to its name, save for the slight pitch of moonlight coming in from a cracked window. And it washes earthy-tones in a gray-pitch, similar to that of a black-and-white film reel.]
[He sets the glasses down on a table as he passes through. Leaving them behind, both hands grabbing at the collar of his vest and he slides it from his shoulders. Pulling it until knuckles are thick and he tosses the signature garment onto the backside of an empty chair.]
Eh- you can close the door, if you want. It'll tell the rest of 'em not to bother.
[Alec likes alcohol, although it's been quite a while since he's had anything that might be considered good -- and even then, good by the standards of what his society can produce is hardly anything compared to Greed's -- and he's a little intrigued by what's in the glass, by what he had smelled on Greed's breath. It hardly compares to the mystery and appeal of the man, though.]
[He ignores the glasses for now, in favor of shutting the door with a definitive click.]
They had better not.
[Another interruption would be an interruption too many.]
[Having said that, though, is enough to make Alec let go of the possibility, enough to allow him to watch Greed with greed of his own in his eyes. Alec knows he's not all that much to look at, too thin and too many sharp angles to be considered handsome, but Greed looks prosperous and in control, the sort of person Alec might have hated if he were a lord (or maybe if Greed were a lord Alec would have a reason not to hate all of them). Besides, this room doesn't look like anything that a lord might have in his estate, and that's enough to make Alec relax quite a bit more, not having to feel like he has to be careful with the space or that Greed will kick him out for not looking like he belongs.]
[It's enough to lend Alec an air of arrogance, the assumption that he does belong, and that this space is a throne and he is a king. Arrogance comes the strongest to Alec when he's his most unsure, his most vulnerable.]
[At least it does help now, instead of setting him up to be punched. Alec drops his tattered black scholar's robe onto the floor without caring where it may fall and shifts towards Greed, hand reaching out to touch, to run his fingers along Greed's arm now that he's allowed to touch, to feel the muscle and the power in him. He wraps a pants-clad leg around Greed's own.]
[The leg around his own is enough to bring a smile to his face and it seems to hook and pull the rest of him. His shoulders rising, his eyebrows furrowing together. The last signature to make the whole thing official and Greed doesn't hide his pleasure at the idea. Instead, he places a hand at the thigh that holds him, running pad after pad to chase the outer-bend.]
[Alec's always been difficult to reason with. He's just glad that this time is a bit more simpler than usual.] Oh-? And here I thought you were lacking in ambition. Guess I was wrong.
[Though, his tone isn't mocking. Sincerely through the hisses and despite any notion to the contrary, everything here is just that: it's his. The palace not made from marble, but out of old wood and cigarette smoke. The currency not always gold, but constantly changing. Whether it money or status, glory or sex: Avarice incarnate didn't care the pay-out, in the end.]
[It harks back on something someone told him a long time ago: "A king's nothing without his people." And maybe that's the wealth here - the real jewel in the devil's crown and Greed coils around Alec. Turns his nose to the dip of his neck while one hand comes up to wrap around a hip. Thumb pressing into a pronounced dip as four-fingers follow to snare. One at a time and he's everywhere. Touching his nose down the crook of Alec's shoulder while his free hand hovers just at the edge of his bones. Fluttering down, the touch oddly gentle, considering the owner.]
Is that what you think? Don't sell yourself so short, Alec. I wouldn't have asked you here if I didn't think you were useful. [But that isn't entirely it either and Greed takes the action in reverse. Knocking his heels to walk backwards, the action announced by a series of thuds that clack off his boots. Until the back of his thighs collide with the frame of his bed and he sits. Rather unceremoniously, hands cautioning the other. To ease over his spread thighs and yeah, maybe this is a little better.]
Eh- guess I'll never change your mind on that, will I. [Sultry and slippery and the Sin pulls his face away. If only briefly, to snatch his signature-shades. Exposing an eerie pair that takes the moonlight with covetous abandon. Highlighting purple and they're practically aglow in the dark.]
So why don't you just show me. [Greed's words fall back down his throat as his eyes swivel back. Slipping to watch the other with the cruelty of a grin, with the fever of the Cheshire beckoning a lone wanderer down the next path.]
[And clack go the sunglasses. Earpiece swinging against glass to make it rattle and he tosses them up onto a nightstand with a fling of the wrist.] No need to hold back. Not here, anyway.
[Alec's voice is as lofty as it gets, long vowels and carefully enunciated consonants. Alec mocks because he breathes, but right now the shots he takes at himself are comfortable, a sort of intellectual simulation that falls secondary to his own interest in the situation.]
[The thought that he might be considered a sort of currency would sting if it weren't so ridiculous, that's also been the only reason he'd agree to be used, because he doesn't believe himself worth the effort for anyone to stick with it for very long. He's not paying Greed in sex, though, not any more than he's being paid in sex. This is a part of their interactions, their relationship with each other, but how could it not be? Alec would still believe it an understanding rather than a transaction, and maybe that's naive, but he does still suffer from that sometimes, for all of his assumed cynicism.]
But I'm not here to be useful to you.
[And there's that arrogance, always lurking beneath his skin, in too-bright green eyes and the thin set of his body, in the educated tones of his voice. It surges out because it's part of Alec, and it's not a thing he keeps caged up. It's a defense and an offense, it's who he is inside and cover to help protect everything else. It's him, as much as the long hair tied up with a ribbon and the sharps edges of his nails.]
You're here to be useful to me.
[And oh, what a kind of useful.]
[Alec's lips find Greed's throat and he goes for it, lips gentle and no hint of teeth, but it's a test all the same.]
[Though, he doesn't take the time to reflect on the idea: "A man like you-" There weren't many like him. Very few in fact, six others to count, though he liked to pretend he was still a little different from the collection. Seven-deadlies in one package and he usually made out for the sore thumb.]
[However, there's a laugh. As Alec coaxes lips to his throat and Greed allows. Because the notion is a little bit of a joke: useful, not useful. The labels don't matter and the Sin cuts the shelf of his boot into the floor. Pivots it up as his eyes screw shut.] Am I? That's not how it really works, friend.
[He doesn't, wouldn't, and can't be under any else's thumb. It's a bad combination and all-too-quickly, he's the first to bite. At the chains, at the collar, at even the idea. But Alec's always been one for arrogance - with his too-green eyes that say he wants control and doesn't all in the same hitch.] Eh-
[The homunculus arches a shoulder. Bringing it up as his chin falls part way. Trying to see beyond hair and ribbons, rocking to the opposing palm. He wriggles a hand free while casually flicking the other; opening his fingers and the 'Shield in the same motion. A switchblade with a punch and it's a sharp twinge.]
[But he only guides a talon to snap the ribbon free. To cut the fabric and make to flutter away.] You've still got it all wrong, but all right. If that's what it'll take. [Not that he's about to take the kid's orders or bow under him. But he'll scratch an itch when it's due.]
[So he lets gravity do the talking. Back falling against a mattress that aches with misuse. Groaning, the springs already bent from previous encounters. There's enough clues to know that others have been here. From the claw marks at the wood-work to the smears of lipstick on faded-white sheets. Their signatures fresh and old, telling a story with each twist and turn of linen.]
[But Greed's not paying attention to it. Instead, he hikes up his legs. Hooks his heels into the crisscross of a frame and tosses himself and his company back. Alec on top, he at the bottom. Though that doesn't exactly mean much to him.]
[The headboard bucks when he frees his grip and Greed tosses his hands to the mount. Digs his nails into wood, holding him there with twined-wrists.] This, then? [He says with a mild tilt of his head.]
[It's a bone-thrown and even if it won't last very long, the Sin's not about to complain about the circumstance.]
[Alec's hair spills down onto his shoulders now, fine and long, like a spray of feathers. It could tangle if he's not careful, but the last thing that Alec's concerned about right now is being careful.]
[Instead he lets himself fall with Greed, until he's on top and the last thing he has to be concerned about is the fact that he might crush Greed, because he doesn't have to know how much Greed can take to know that Alec certainly isn't anywhere near the limits.]
[It's the kind of safety net Alec needs, the sort of thing he's much more concerned about than if he himself will get hurt.]
Time will tell. [Still with that perfect arrogance, the sort of blind confidence that he will get what he wants and what he needs. This isn't the sort of attitude that Alec is completely comfortable with, but it is his legacy, what he's been born to succeed at. Whether it amuses Greed or entices him to be more assertive in response, or if it makes him obey, Alec knows that he's the one who's winning. (They both are.)]
[Whatever Alec might ordinarily hold back, his fingers are honest as they smooth over Greed's chest and then slip under the shirt he's wearing, letting his nails scrape sharp over skin, laying his own claim over this man that so many others have had (that has had so many others.)]
[Alec's hips twist against Greed, even though he knows that he himself doesn't need the encouragement.]
[His laughter is smooth and breathless. As his head falls back and he makes no attempt to stop whatever it is that Alec is doing - that'd be unproductive, in the end, and Greed's not the sort of creature to deny anyone what they so rightfully want. So he lets the spikes of his hair hit the headboard, his skull knocking out with a hollow sort of thud.]
Good thing I have all the time in the world, then.
[The dark is thick and dreamy. The light wash of a false-twilight from the street turning things gray, ghostly, and it's a steady sort of air that slips in and out. From the whistling open of a window, coiling curtains that had seen better days.]
[Alec is right, in all of his mental prowess - there had been plenty here, too many faces to count in all the centuries the devil's dwelt. But even if he can't remember the names, the Avaricious has always counted himself pretty good at remembering a face. And even when Alec's time has run out, Greed knows all too well that there will be plenty of other occasions to keep that face remembered.]
[So he moves his wrists. Rotates them so the flats of his lower arms face out and leather bands pile as muscle thickens. A lift sends him part way up, jaws opening with an audible and forced intake of air.] Y'know, for someone your age, you really are pretty demanding. I guess that's why I like you.
[To be liked by the living embodiment of it: it's almost poetry, almost sickening. At least, most people would consider it that way. But Alec is a funny sort - darting this way and that, his clear purpose masked behind a mask, behind a mask. Always hiding something and Greed's grin slowly closes. Making a line of his lips as he nudges his head to his partner's throat. Pressing his nose, his forehead.]
Show me, kid - [The Sin starts, voice like a poisonous purr. Echoing in his throat, rattling his teeth.] - everything you really want.
[Every movement of Greed's body is a reminder of the power that he has on offer and a promise of the way that Alec is going to make him feel, the way that Greed is going to make Alec feel. He's not ordinary, not human, but that just makes him all the more something to explore, and it is good that they have the time they need, because Alec's not inclined to rush this.]
[He's not always a very patient person, bad at picking his timing except when it's aimed to infuriate. But this is different, and he's still a sort of scientist -- if one whose never heard of the scientific method -- intent on categorizing Greed, on understanding his properties.]
If I'm going to be demanding I might like some oil as well. [A cheeky tone of voice, but nothing that he thinks is going to be getting a problem, something that will make his explorations a bit easier.]
[Everything he wants is both simple and complicated, but he's very eager to indicate exactly what it means, ready to show Greed exactly what it is that he's inviting.]
If you want I can promise to be gentle.
[But what does a promise like that really mean? Still, the offer is as much a dare as anything else.]
[It's easy to feel his smile widen when Alec finally gives in. When he finally starts making some demands that can actually be fulfilled and Greed's shoulders raise just a tad from their compromised position. He whispers against the skin of Alec's throat - hot, moist. Stale with cigarette smoke and spiced with good scotch.]
Try under the bed. Keep a few things handy in case someone interesting comes along. [Or in case someone actually wants to have a go and fuck him like the devil. Not like he's one to complain or say no. He's taken the bottom row from time to time and, if anything, it's usually a good ride.]
[He doubts, though, that Alec is seeking out that particular route.]
[Greed retracts and his nails screech as they bite into wood. At his angle, he's looking down at Alec - with those ghostly eyes that are foreign and strange. They widen and settle, thoughts passing through with the jittery motions of his pupils.] Not sure if it's any good, though.
[Though, he knows of a few alternatives and Greed slowly brings one leg up. To set the base of his heel next to Alec's thigh and he nudges the crook of a boot up and down a rigid backside. Coiling that wicked bend, pressing the pointed tip into the small bump at his partner's spine.]
Gentle? Ha - ! That's not really what you're into, is it? [Greed arches himself forward, straining against his own muscles as he makes a snap at the empty air. His teeth click together with a crunch, with a grin that grows in anticipation. Oh, he's a terrible creature: in make, design, and status.]
Whatever you want - I told you. Show me everything you've got for me, lovely.
You have so many other places like this one, then? [Alec's not sure he likes the sound of it not being any good, but they'll figure it out, the pessimist in him not triumphing over his lust and his wanting (and what separate things they are) for the moment.]
[Alec rolls off the bed, awkward limbs and a bit of fumbling as he has to pull away from Greed, from the magnetism of their attraction. He's impatient and yet he wants to relish this, wants to explore everything that Greed's body has to offer.]
[Wants to know him the way Greed seems to already know Alec.]
You'll get to find out all of that.
[Having found what he needed Alec clambers back onto the bed, one hand holding his prize but his attention back on Greed, on shoving the fall of hair away from his own face so that Alec can nip at Greed's lower lip, can show his own teeth.]
No, not really. Just here. [The Devil's Nest, he means. It's his home and his kingdom. To reign as he pleases in the seediest part of town: where crooked alleyways turn that more jagged and where the liquor's too good to pass up. Where people come to get away from it all and he's happy to entertain the company: all walks of life, but it's usually thick with criminals instead. Which, if he were being asked, was much preferred.]
[They often kept things simple.]
[Greed's head falls back with mild disappointment when Alec leaves and his lips pull to the side in a pouting frown. Eyebrows follow, creasing together when he cocks his head slightly to the side. He could almost pass for innocent then - almost being the key word, because as soon as Alec's got the bottle in his hand, those teeth come fanning out. From lips pulled too tight and there's visible interest - in his eyes, in his jaws, and the Sin settles his head comfortably into the back-board.]
Will I now. Glad to see you're finally seeing things from my perspective. [Greed's voice is a humming sort of purr. Sultry like jazz and hard like metal. An intertwining of two harmonies cycling in his throat and when Alec nips at his lip, the homunculus lowers his hands away from the wood anchor behind him. Slipping through the columns holding the straight-piece together instead and he mimicks a prisoner. Shoving his hands between the bars and he fists his hands, keeping them locked there.]
[Because he doesn't want this to be a quick in and out. A slam-bam-thank-you-kid kind of deal. No; he's been doing this song and dance a bit too long and he'll gladly take his time.]
[So a tongue rolls out, chasing the teeth that come bared. As if trying to coax the other on: "C'mon, give it to me. More, more, more." But Greed doesn't say a word - instead, he growls. Something soft, an approval.]
[Greed may find himself surprised by how aggressive Alec can be in the bedroom, when it catches his fancy (and Richard had worked to encourage that, to allow it when it wasn't making an already black mood spiral even worse). There's still no rhyme or reason to the twists of his moods or his mind, but that much Greed should be used to by now.]
[Alec doesn't bother to study what Greed looks like alone on the bed, because he's too eager to return, even if he hasn't determined exactly what he's going to do with what he's fetched, but that's a minor detail compared to the rest of this.]
[Alec finds himself tempted towards the alcohol now, but that would mean leaving Greed instead, and this is a different kind of altering to his mood, and one that he refocuses on, teeth digging in after a nip, not needing too much to be encouraged, not requiring anything more than what he's getting -- Greed's enthusiastic responses.]
[Still Alec doesn't shut up, because there are always words, even when they'll cease to make any particular sort of sense, they still wind up being said. It's just Alec's way, a habit too firm to be broken despite the fact that there's not really any reason for it.]
[He has to pull back to speak, but he takes the opportunity to touch as well, one hand cupping Greed's cheek, nails scraping to leave thin white lines in their immediate wake and then a pivoting of his hand to press his forefinger against Greed's lips, to find out if he will suck it.]
[Or if he'll bite.]
Even I can be taught, if the right teaching methods are employed.
[The lazy drawl of Alec's voice seems particularly suited to this moment.]
[Words are Alec's strong point: probably one of his best features. He's smart, he's resourceful. But Greed's a creature of action and when the other sits up and presents a finger, it's an easy decision. The Sin takes the tip in his mouth first, swiping and dragging it further with his tongue. Swallowing it to the first knuckle.]
[That's when he bites.]
[It's a gentle nip at first. Just to feel the defined hardness of Alec's bones - they're exposed against his thin frame, practically poking out to challenge the strength of his jaws. Greed knows it can't win in the end, so he doesn't test the limits too much. Instead, he just holds the flesh there, bringing his mouth around the knuckle to seal it. A few brief sucks later and his smile ruins the whole thing.]
That so? [Eyes flick up and he retracts his head. Smearing the spikes of his hair across wood, making them bend slightly.] For everything I actually know about you, taking an order isn't really one of your strong points.
[But hey - he's not faulting Alec on it. Orders weren't his strong point either and that's landed him into enough trouble for a few centuries worth of lifetime(s). The Sin tightens the muscles of his arms, tenses to make tendons line out against his skin.]
What is it you want to learn then, kid? [If he wants to learn all the vices, he'll give it to him. If he wants to take a piece of the cake and eat it too, fine. Either way, Greed's getting what he wants out of the deal - this way or that, it doesn't matter to him.]
[So he watches Alec from the cliff of his chin and waits.] C'mon, I told you to show me. No need to second-guess yourself - I'm not like the rest.
What you look like when you're flushed with pleasure.
[If he does get flushed with pleasure.]
[What makes him get that way.]
How you act when you've been riled up.
[He's already getting an idea of how Greed reacts to a challenge, to what he makes of Alec himself. All important things.]
Right now I want these off, though.
[And Alec's reaching for the fastening on Greed's pants to try to get him to buck his hips in a useful way. It's only when he looks at him this way that Alec truly appreciates the power in the other's body, but that's not something to make Alec stop, or to make him wary.]
[He's all too keen to oblige. Lifting his hips, setting his heels down to anchor him. His torso goes up, his shoulders bend down, and his spine arches with a wicked angle. It's a demand - to see just how far his avarice can be pushed until it's all too much.]
[Either way, it's an interesting twist on an evening.]
[Greed's grin is wide as it is sharp. The very idea of having his own world turned on its head is one that he finds incredibly amusing. He hadn't pegged Alec for the sort, though he should have. The kid's not exactly forthcoming with everything and he should have noticed the extra ace up his sleeve. Ready to play when the game came to a boiling point.]
[It's funny: just how unpredictable some humans can be.]
[Greed's fingers open up and his wrists knock against the wood as he back-latches behind the headboard. Hidden there are claws - it's obvious when a splintering-crunch comes calling from the dark.] Not stopping you, kid. But it's a tall order to fill - just remember that.
[Possible, but Alec would have to hope that Greed has low expectations of him to genuinely expect that to happen, and he's not about to want that.]
[His arrogance leans in a different direction, but Alec's never pleased to be caught out to have so little experience as he does.]
[Still, he might not have been with all that many men (certainly nothing compared to Greed, but only a few even without that comparison to tilt the scale), but he knows how to tease.]
[So it is that once he's gotten Greed's pants off, once he's worked his cock free, Alec wraps his dry hand around him and slowly moves his thumb along the length for just a moment, before he's slithering down Greed's body, acting like the man's hands around the headboard really are tied in place.]
Pleasantly, or not...
[And then Alec is licking against Greed's stomach, a moment to allow Greed to anticipate something more, before he goes clambering back up the man's body, fingers exploring and making the threat to scratch (nothing like what Greed has done to that wood).]
[A brat, but that much isn't a surprise, and he does intend to see Greed satisfied, eventually.]
[His eyes roll back and shut tight under a growing smile. Really, the kid's as much of a tease as he is a pissant and the Sin isn't at all surprised at the result. He should have seen it coming all along - the spit-back, the arrogance.]
[But it just makes it that much better.]
[The tongue at his skin seems to chase away the 'Shield. As if the homunculus is letting down all of his defenses. Just to feel the promise Alec has in store for him and those nails drag unseeing behind the wood. Slowly, scratching peel after peel of pine under he's got ribbons-thick under the curve of his talons.]
[Greed arches his hips, meeting the too-dry hand at his cock and a laugh hisses out of his tightly-shut jaws. Slithering from between his teeth when his eyebrows knit together and oh, Alec just shouldn't have.]
Maybe you'll surprise yourself kid - I don't really deny much. [Greed breathes as he screws the tips of his claws back into the headboard. Almost let go, then. To wrap around Alec's skull and coax him on. But if the kid wants the driver's seat, well.]
[There's the wheel.] I told you to show me everything you've got, brat. Might be good to take something you want, for a change. And who knows? [His chin tilts up first, bring the rest of his head with it. One eye open and Greed watches for a second. Just as voyeuristic as the next.]
[Alec has no specific plan, is just doing what feels right with any given moment. He's not experienced enough with doing something with someone new that he thinks he could gauge from Greed's initial reaction just what he should do, but he does have plenty of ideas, and he's sure that if he does something Greed really doesn't care for (other than just teasing) that he'll find out about it.]
There's always something new to learn.
[It's like a mantra or a promise, but right now Alec lets it go, focuses on the more he has available to him in the moment instead.]
[So he does shift after a moment to lick firmly against Greed's cock this time, one hand braced against Greed's thigh and the other lubed up and messy, reaching between Greed and the sheets, to draw circles around him.]
[His mouth on Greed's cock is tentative, careful, because Alec would rather draw it out than make himself run the risk of choking, because now more than previously, he's actually worried about embarrassing himself in front of Greed, so he's trying to walk a line between eagerness and experience, pretending for control for the sake of an impression he wants to make.]
[Finally, Greed releases his strong-hold on the headboard. Peeling his claws away and slipping them through the bars. Despite Alec's constant claims to the contrary, sometimes it's a little sweeter just to feel. And while he doesn't have a clue to the inexperience, Greed's got some inclination.]
[He's just been doing this too long.]
[So one hand stretches - nails first as his wrist twists. He offers the smooth side of his talons, pacing them up the side of Alec's skull. The Sin's got all hands on deck: his eyes watching, his fingers twirling. Spinning and spinning until he's got black-brown hair through the knuckles and he holds with a foreign sort of admiration.]
[A growl escapes him, then. Nothing vicious and more the rumble of a predator finding its kin. It's thick in his throat, coming from the depths of his chest, and it makes his teeth fan out. Greed taps his other hand behind his own head, drumming with a slow sort of rhythm.] If you stay here long enough, you'll learn plenty.
[How the underworld worked. How the black market functioned. And of everything and anything that dwells in the dark. It wasn't just a name painted on the door, but a sign: that brought all matters of secrets and rumors. Of freaks and abominations to his door step. Ushered in with open arms and eager hands. To snatch and have and Greed wore the crown proudly.]
[Which is why he's got no itch to chide Alec on his behavior. Or his lack of finesse. The kid's got plenty to learn.]
[Gently, as it not to disturb too much, Greed slips his claws away from Alec's hair. Touches to the tips to his face, sliding a thumb across a cheek.] Like I said - nothing you do's gunna hurt me much, kid. So feel free - [The hand unfurls behind his skull, a gesture of relaxation. The Sin's not about to let this one slip through his fingers so easily and if he means taking his time, well.]
[Alec pulls off of Greed's cock in order to answer, green eyes serious and assessing, trying to figure out how much of this is Greed trying to give him free reign and how much of it is the actual subject of his desire.]
[He's certainly heard of masochists, after all, even if he's far from being one such himself.]
[There's a confidence in his voice by the time he does talk, voice lofty and assured, certain that he knows about this much, at least.]
You don't want me to bite like this.
[Which is fine, because Alec doesn't want to do that, would much rather bring Greed pleasure even if nothing will stop him from being a little selfish about, a little bit of a brat.]
[But he's been tentative more for his own sake than for Greed's, and it's obvious enough that that's not as convincing a distraction as he'd like it to be. So he keeps his mouth light on Greed's cock, the slow movement of his tongue inside his mouth providing pressure, but his finger presses into Greed, feeling the other man's body give way to let him in.]
[It's intoxicating, heady, and Alec wishes he could watch it happening. Later, he knows, he will.]
No - but it wouldn't be the first time. Though, you might end up biting off a little more than you can chew. [Greed tilts his head to the side and he's cocky. Confident as inky-fingers feather across his hips. Trembling and mimicking the surface of quaking sand. However, the 'Shield stays just there. No use throwing the kid into the deep end when he hasn't had the chance to swim yet.]
[The Sin's lips do close and his comments with them. He's taking it all - the way Alec holds him, the movement of those lips when they take his cock and suck. A shoulder lifts tentatively, pulling the creature forward and finally, he's got a full hand on the top of Alec's head.]
[The tips of his nails rake - gently parting between the strands to have a scratch at Alec's skull. Then back again. Slowly, catching the rhythm the kid's beating to and Greed's easy enough to follow. With a hum at his jaws that's more of a purr and fine, he'll let him have everything he wants.]
[But oh, there's a surprise and his muscles tighten, his lips turning into a relaxed-O, and Greed whistles. Doesn't say a word, though. Not even as he shoves a heel into the bed frame and coaxes his torso down. Rocks his hips until he's practically riding those fingers in deep.] Tsk - [One eye opens, then the other. Alight with mischief.] - not bad, kid.
[Knuckles clench and the Sin's got a tighter grip now. As he rolls his body, bringing those fingers in deep and ah, there it is. It's been a while, Greed'll admit. Usually, it's the other way around.]
Sometimes that's what life is. [And the fact that it's more than he can handle is usually enough to make Alec despair at it, despair at himself, but in a bed with someone as enthusiastic about what they're to do as he is, all the rules are different.]
That's why it's important to break it down. [Or it breaks him down. Or it does that anyway.]
Into manageable pieces.
[Alec is licking Greed's cock between sentences, literally licking rather than taking it back fully into his mouth, because it's far more important that he talk than that Greed get everything that he will in this current moment. He's losing his rhythm to this, but that doesn't matter to him, and he'll be surprised if it changes Greed's mood.]
[Most surprised because it would have to mean that Alec overestimated him, that Greed isn't the sort of person that he's professed to be. (That's not a mistake that Alec makes very often, since he's hardly generous to other people, even as he knows he might still be too naive for his own good. Still, it's better to know that sort of thing sooner, rather than later.]
Manageable pieces is why Alec had intended to open Greed up slowly, but he can feel the shifting of his body to draw those fingers in, and Alec doesn't think he has that much control. It had been his intention to bring Greed to some level of satisfaction with his mouth before he shifted, but he's rewriting that plan based on his lack of diligence and his impatience.]
[Greed's much more experienced on the other side of the field. Pushing and prodding, caressing nails and fingers when it suits his fancy. A swap doesn't surprise him and he isn't inexperienced to the notion. But it's different here - off - and after a few licks and more words, the homunculus coils his blacked-out hand around Alec's chin. Urges him to stop a moment.]
Break it down, huh. [The curve of a claw catches his partner's lower lip. Touches it, grazes across it, and Greed's eyes narrow. As if he's rereading the last bit of a clause: "Sign here, dot here, but remember the expectations.."]
[His eyes follow the flesh of a bruised lip. Taking in the contours, the shape of it pressed between his weapon of choice. Had he been another sort of creature, he probably would have pierced it. Torn it right up before he sliced the kid's throat. But those days were long gone. Tossed out like yesterday's garbage and Greed, in all of his years, had never looked back.]
[So he hitches his heel, peels himself away from Alec's exploratory fingers. He can feel the muscles tense and relax, a small sigh escaping his jaws and even in his ears, it's entirely unholy. Rude, plain, and noxious. The pit opening up and oh, welcome on down through the burning rings.]
[Knees arch, legs with them, and he snatches Alec in a vice. Smiles with a wicked sort of flare, youthful and old, before his stomach clenches and Greed flips them both. Tumbling to the other side of the mattress, listening as the old wires groan and bend. It's only when he's got the other under him, does Greed arch back up. Moving with a roll of his hips, a buck of his spine, and nails frame out the bottom edge of his shirt. Brown fabric knots in his knuckles as he yanks the offending garment off and over his head. A flick of the wrist sends it crashing into a nearby bureau and the wood shudders and quakes. But Greed pays it little mind. Instead, he settles his thighs - letting them sink into the mattress as he slips into Alec's lap.]
You really haven't done this much, have you? [Finally letting the cat out the bag and the Sin knocks his head to the side.] Don't worry about it - I'm not about to hold it against you.
[The Sin bends, meeting Alec's forehead with his own. Warmth breath at his tongue and he's eye to eye, tooth to tooth.] Go on - give it a try. I've got all the time in the world, after all.
[To test, Greed pushes with his hips. Grinding himself down with a grin that could kill. With a laugh that's a whisper.] Besides, I don't have anything else planned that can't wait 'till later.
I've done it enough. [It's certainly a protest, and not one that means very much without an agreed-to definition of what 'enough' is. Enough to do it now, Alec knows, even if Greed may be a little more skeptical.]
[He's certainly no maiden to see or want his virtue protected. That's hardly the point of just now.]
[But Greed has moved and for a long moment Alec's hands protest their emptiness as Alec tries to figure out why they've changed, what's Greed is trying to say about them doing it this way.]
[He starts by shifting under Greed's grinding hips, breath panting as he wraps an arm around Greed, half-clinging to him and half trying to just figure out where he should place his hands.]
[None of this is natural, but it is all exciting.]
[Alec shifts to meet Greed's lips, to nip at them with his teeth. It's as much because he feels he has to prove a point than anything else, and he doesn't want to just be a kid to Greed, wants instead to impress and please him. He wants to see that they both get their pleasure, and that Greed is satisfied with what Alec is offering him, that Alec doesn't serve as a disappointment.]
[That Greed won't regret bringing him here.]
At least I won't break the furniture under us.
[Alec's hand finds Greed's ass again, and Alec seeks him out, pushy, wanting even when he can't explain his want, when he wouldn't actually be able to break it down to anything more than this.]
[When Greed can finally feel some of the tension leaving, he bends forward. Smoothing his hips over a torso that's smaller, grinding his bones against a pair that's a bit more frail. To plant the flat of a forearm against a head-rest and he snatches a half-smoked butt from an ashtray nearby. A smile graces him then, distant. Looking away as those eyes flicker between wanting to dim and waiting to ignite.]
[Either way, it'll prove a good time.]
[The Sin's smile is knowing. Like a teacher in correction, "Why don't you try it this way? Ah, there you go." Alec picks up the lesson quick and the homunculus rocks his hips back to meet the prod of a finger. His right hand's at the ready, charring a hidden match to life with the carbon-switch of a nail. He inhales when fingers resume their exploration and exhales when he picks up a rhythm to set them free.]
[It's here, that he finds a pace. Where he takes Alec's heartbeat and steals it without much notice. The cigarette puffs to life above them, clenched in his teeth and his knuckles.] Not like I'd care if you did. It wouldn't be the first time I'd have to replace something.
[Greed's eyes flick down and his other hand brushes the air. A snap of the wrist calls the 'Shield again. It trickles down as ink to parchment. Bleeding across his skin, making it far too dark, far too sinister. The Sin side-glances his handy work before bringing his smooth-slick palm to Alec's chest. He spreads his fingers there, stretching the points of his claws so that they hover just above skin. Then he settles them - pricking into soft flesh, but not enough to draw blood. Just to let the other really feel him and Greed shoves his hips back with a violent buck.]
Mn - c'mon, Alec. Give it to me. You know I'll do you the favor. [His voice is running hot, his pitch that of a fever. Greed's eyes flare open briefly only to settle back with a hooded glance. It's the look of a predator. Sizing up its next meal, the excitement in every twitch and pull of his muscle. Greed knocks his knees into the mattress, clenches his torso, and moves. Sliding to and from those fingers as talons scratch small lines up the center of Alec's chest, making for his throat.]
[Alec can imagine what Greed is thinking, or believes he can, but every look into his eyes proves that he's wrong, and every shift of Greed's body against him seems to make it matter less. Greed can think what he wants, and when they get down into it he'll think only of Alec, that must be a certainty even with how little positive self-image Alec possesses.]
[He shifts his hand so that he can lube up a second finger without having to remove the one in Greed for long, then he slides it in. He knows what he's looking for right now, knows that Greed is clearly ready for more. Likely ready for more than even that, but it's a distraction, something more for him to ride, as Alec focuses on his cock, on getting it ready.]
[Part of him can't help thinking it absurd that Greed may ride him like this, that the man is larger than him in a way that has much to do with the strength of his opinions as it has to do with actual physical size, and that they will both make for a bizarre image.]
[Good thing, then, that Alec likes the absurd.]
Aren't you going to let me have a drag? [Alec knows smoking even if he doesn't know cigarettes, doesn't know nicotine, and might be disappointed by it, by the fact that it won't compare to Fool's Delight, the rush not the sort of thing to bend his mind like that, but probably also not the kind of thing to leave him paranoid and shaking. He doesn't want the aftereffects of that now, but he never does, and yet he's used the drug multiple times before, and other drugs as well.]
[He isn't going to make it a bargain, though, isn't going to refuse anything now. He pulls his fingers out of Greed and then holds on to hip with one hand, the other holding on to the base of his cock.]
[His nails bite in and Greed drags them down. Gently, pushing to give the kid a sense of what he's really dealing with. It's true - he's usually the one taking. Flipping company right around and stealing from them as soon as they said go. But he's testing the waters, feeling it out. And what's a good shake up once in a while.]
[Greed inhales on the cigarette, making the tip spit-spark. Ash falls, touching and smearing a pillow that's seen plenty in its time here. He plucks it out of his jaws, flipping the butt over so the fire's too close to his palm. And on instinct, the 'Shield rises up. Licking where the threat of a burn's near and the lit end lights up that pitch black. Giving it a glow that hums orange. Red.] For a little shit, you really are demanding.
[But he gives it anyway. Molding his claws around Alec's jaw as he passes the smoke. It's nothing like what Alec's probably used to. Raw and harsh, the tobacco a bit stale. Still, it's not like Greed's complaining and smoke comes rushing out of his nostrils when he drops down. Holding the headboard to keep his weight from crushing the other.]
[His hooded gaze does nothing for the look he's giving. That need, that desire in every twitch of an eye. Greed leans in close, letting warm air out when his jaws open wide. He could tear Alec to shreds like this. Rip him apart and have at him, just as his would-be maker intended.]
[Instead, he only says one thing:] Gladly.
[The Sin coils his head against Alec's own, side-tilts it to wrap his lips around the side of his neck. His teeth latch in then, just as his nails release and he's running his knuckles down Alec's side. Letting his bones knock against each jut of a rib.]
[One, two - ]
[Teeth sink in a bit harder. Latching around and Greed hums. Lets the vibration shiver through the jagged tips.]
[ - three, four.]
[His stomach tenses, his hips rock forward. Slowly rolling, hovering just above where Alec's hips stop. Leaving the smallest bit of space between.]
[Five, six.]
[His knuckles ease and those talons come out again. To scrape and wind against skin. Tracing lines that circle and bend, following each curve.]
[Alec doesn't like pain, can't take it (even when he inflicts it on himself), but Greed's nails on his skin aren't really painful, and it sparks a different kind of sensation through him.]
[Like saying something, coming to an agreement, and Alec's big on communication.]
[Alec takes the cigarette, and he knows enough about the idea to not breathe it wrong, but it still makes him cough, and he makes a face at the taste, at the heaviness of what he's inhaled.]
[Then again, that Greed has poor taste is something that's already been evidenced, because he's chosen to have Alec in his bed, after all, and while the man is arrogant, he knows that he's so without cause.]
[That he's done nothing to make Greed want him besides to be difficult, and to want it himself.]
You like me this way. [Because if Greed likes Alec at all it has to be this way, because Alec isn't capable of being anything else, can't do away with his own sharp edges or attitude. Hasn't become any softer since he settled in this bed.]
[Still, Alec doesn't scream when he's bitten, just wills his body to relax and it turns out not to be the sort of thing that he has to focus on, it's just the sort of thing that happens, like the way that Alec's body orients itself to Greed's.]
Trying to claim me? [As soon as he says it it's clear exactly how ridiculous of an idea that is, that it won't ever be the case. That Greed might be thinking of it that way anyway, and Alec feels nothing at that but amusement, and a low burn of pleasure, in the pit of his stomach.]
[He doesn't need words; it wouldn't get through anyway. Alec's stubborn. Too quick to shield up his defenses and it's a tough shell to crack. So Greed turns to the usual(s); to a language he understands and his nails slip away from his rib cage, moving down to rake nails up a thigh. To smooth a thumb against a protruding hip. He can hear the other hitch a breath when he bites and the Sin's laughter is muffled against Alec's skin. Forming with heat that puffs out like a breath in the dead of winter. It's warm, hot; toxic and noxious.]
[Just like its owner.]
[He doesn't stay, doesn't pause. Not for a beat and his hand slips between his own-spread thighs to cup Alec between his. For a moment, he merely holds the tips of his nails there. Tracing outlines against a cock, humming softer as he does so. It's easier this way. Without words, without the need to chase every bold-spat answer with a quip of his own.]
[Greed releases his teeth. Pulling back as his thighs sink to either side of Alec and his eyes are alight. Pupils thinned, grin wide. He rocks back onto the balls of his feet, shoving in deeper. It's then that he takes Alec in the palm of his hand. Wrapping finger after finger around his length and tugging in rhythm with the slow-roll buck of his hip.]
Maybe. But you already know it's too late for that, right? [One eye narrows and it's a sneer he's sporting. Sharp and deadly. Alec knows - he has to. He's already been claimed. Marked and treated as one of his own.]
[Words might not work on Alec, but he's addicted to them anyway, to the way his mouth moves as he shapes them and to the sound that they make coming out. Most of the time it doesn't even matter what they are -- except when he's trying to provoke, to use them like weapons -- only that they exist in the first place.]
[It's harder to respond to silence, but not impossible, but still Alec lets Greed have his moments until he responds, Alec lets himself focus on the physical sensation and the pleasure of having Greed cater to him in this manner.]
I know that you want everything and that you're incapable of telling the difference between what you are and aren't capable of keeping.
[It's purred in his low tone of voice, because Greed can have whatever claim he wants, but Alec's got plenty of free will left over, and he's going to exercise it just to prove he can.]
I know that this is convenient and it's just gotten more so.
[As if his pleasure is only that, but it's easier to say that than to admit even to himself that he's vulnerable.]
[He suddenly stops and his fingers still. The sharp edges of his nails snapping out, akin to a feline stretching out its set. And he rises up, rolling onto the balls of his feet to free himself from Alec's prodding.] Oh-? Is that what you think?
[His grin is deadly; almost threatening, but not quite there and Greed closes his eyes. A shove of his palms to the mattress sends him away, spreading his thighs open as the back of his heels hit the frame of the bed.] Nothing's convenient, Alec. I've been doing this far too long for that to be true.
[He falls; lowering himself between Alec's legs as he trails a finger down the side of his thigh. And like the feline before, he watches; as he sends nips up the inside of Alec's leg, tracing up and up and up - ] For once, why don't you give it a try? Really wanting something.
[The rest falls to silence. As he takes the tip of Alec's cock in his mouth, rolling his lips back to shield away those terrible teeth. Both hands follow suit, thumbs spreading to notch his palms between his partner's legs, urging them to spread. A hum curdles at the back side of his throat, holding there as he swallows. Slowly at first, taking it in piece by piece.]
[Perhaps being threatened at this point would be something Alec would almost understand, but he's also confident that despite the danger in Greed's voice that he's not there. After all, Greed has taken on that same tone of voice before when he's made it clear that he won't be the one to kill Alec, that he'll protect Alec from others, and it's not then violence towards Alec that he has to anticipate.]
[Alec's mouth is open and he's focused on panting for a moment, green eyes heavy on Greed, wanting and needing so much more than he's already gotten, but not even sure how to describe to himself what it is he needs, let alone to the Sin.]
[Greed's words make for a start, his mouth for even more of one.]
Why do I need to, when you'll give it to me anyway?
[When usually wanting just means realizing what he won't ever have, what Alec knows in his own heart he doesn't deserve. He can want with every breath, but he either needs to take or receive in order for that want to be satisfied, and usually neither is likely.]
[Those eyes flick up to watch Alec. How he breathes, how he talks. What he's saying and doing and what he's holding back. Greed's mouth opens a bit more - with a jagged smile as he reaches for Alec's wrist and tugs his hand forward.]
[Subtle communication won't work, that's for sure. But maybe a little nudging will.]
[So he moves the hand into the spikes of hair. Forces the palm into his scalp as if beckoning for a tug. For some sort of direction, an answer to what Alec really wants out of this and Greed growls. A feral noise that's neither aggressive or demeaning. Something a bit more pleasant as he urges the other further and further down his throat.]
[The kid does have it right though: "Why do I need to, when you'll give it to me anyway?" Well, partly right. It isn't like Alec's needs overpower his own - it's just a means to an end, to get what he wants out of the deal. But as he's said before, and certainly will say again, there's a few perks for signing up under his wing.]
[Alec's fingers tangle against Greed's hair, and he's quiet for just a moment as he twists, almost as if he's trying his grip rather than appreciating it. It's clear he doesn't need to urge Greed on further, since the man is already taking in more than Alec would have him, is already doing his level best to overwhelm Alec's whole self.]
Hnn.
[It has to be good to reduce Alec from words to noises, although that much won't last as long as Greed might like it to, even if the words Alec does reach for aren't filled with the usual level of snark.]
That's so good.
[He doesn't need to ask for things right now because he wouldn't ask for more than this.]
[While Alec isn't following direction, the pay out is still the same. The slip of a noise instead of a protest. Greed releases his fingers from his companion's wrist, moving instead to race an open palm down his thigh.]
[Behind him, the Sin presses and extends his legs. Moving forward to force Alec further down his throat. There's a hum there; elongated as he answers the voice with a growl. This is how it should be. Without protest, without the same old bullshit that Alec is practically infamous for.]
[And he finally gets what he really wants.]
[Greed presses his tongue up when his head sinks down and his fingers feather out. Drawing red lines up Alec's skin as he scratches ever-so-slightly.]
[Alec's still trying to tease, to push, but his fingers are tight in Greed's hair by now and he's not sure how much more of this he can handle, is practically hoping that Greed won't do anything to make it better any longer, because he doesn't think he can take any more than this.
The grip of his hands is an anchor, and it's the only one he has, and his body writhes under every touch, straining for more pressure, more scratching, more Greed.]
[More is a language he understands. Greed ignores the teasing and instead slides all the way back. Until he's got just the tip in his mouth and his teeth merely hover. Not touching, not in the slightest, but the threat is there.]
[Until he presses his tongue and bobs it. Finding a slow rhythm that circles a little sloppily. One direction, then the opposite a second later. His hand does the rest of the work; smoothing an open palm between Alec's thighs before he places his fingers at the base of a cock. A little bit of pressure as he maps it out. Up and up, then down again.]
[A short snort comes out of his nostrils though. It'd always be better if Alec tending to act more this way. Unfortunately, Greed knew it would never and couldn't ever be the case.]
[Alec moans, genuine and enthusiastic, not able to resist it or find the words any longer. He's vaguely aware that he's holding too tight, but he can't make his fingers relax as Greed drags him towards his climax.]
[It isn't much further in coming, and then Alec is letting go -- truly letting go -- in a way that might be terrifying if it didn't also come with that overwhelming sense of pleasure and rightness.]
[It's been too long, and Greed is too good to him, and if Alec were able to keep control of his head he might well watch curiously to see if Greed will swallow or not, but right now that matters not at all, not even as a point of interest.]
[Thankfully he's not the type to deny much of anything.]
[It's the reaction he's been looking for. All this time, all this effort. Alec's been stubborn, but Greed's more so. When he pulls away, his tongue comes with him. A roll of it that brings a satisfied purr to his lip. Greed swipes the back of his wrist over his chin and swallows.] See - wasn't that bad, was it?
[The homunculus crawls over. Hovering above Alec with that too-sick grin and those wicked eyes of his seem to glow. Taking in the light where it comes, swallowing when it gives.] I told you. No need to be a pissant all the time.
[He lowers himself down just a tad so that there's only a small space between them.] So - what else do you have for me?
[With the kiss at his jaw, Greed tips his head to the opposing side. Like this, Alec can have as much as he wants without much protest. And the Sin isn't about to complain.]
[His eyes open with a low hum. The noise groans from the gut, coming up to vibrate against the backside of his teeth.] Flattery doesn't fit you. [He chimes back, his voice a rough kind of whisper. A hand spreads to coax down Alec's side.]
You didn't really think that was going to be it, did you? [The homunculus snaps his jaws and shoves his skull under the jut of Alec's throat.] You should know me a bit better than that.
[His other hand trails back and a thumb makes easy of the button. A simple pop and Greed's grin spreads where his lips touch Alec's skin.] Just had to make sure - not interested if you aren't, after all.
[Alec doesn't think Greed means that, even though Alec running his mouth in a different way is one of the side effects of being pleased, of feeling the pleasure throughout his body, and perhaps he does.
Although he would have thought that Greed would like to be admired, would enjoy being wanted.
But he's satisfied to keep touching the Sin, to do everything that he's apparently allowed, and to enjoy the feeling of them sharing a bed. He moves his hands after a moment to try to help Greed out with easing the clothing off.]
I am. You're smart to think me so selfish, but I'm better behaved in bed than I usually am.
[And he expects that he'll get more out of this anyway.]
If you think that, then you still don't know me very well. [He pulls away only briefly. Rocking onto the shelf of his hips as his body sinks back into his thighs. Greed hitches his fingers around the line of his waist, prying the leather from his skin. There's a second pair of red lines there; jutting off his hips to circle around his back.] I'm selfish, remember?
[He shifts himself up, hiking the band down. Alec's much more easy to understand like this. With all of his complaints aside and Greed lowers himself back to him. Nipping at his throat as too-hot air chases skin. His hand follows the curve of his own back and two fingers hook in where leather eases. Greed slowly trails them down and his knees makes the bed beneath them groan.]
You are. So c'mon - I want everything you've got, Alec. [Just to make his point clear, Greed latches his teeth into the dip of Alec's shoulder. Holding him there as his hips, his torso, undulate to help free him of his slacks. They go in slow motion and Greed drops his hand.]
[Again, they tumble. When the Sin's got a fingers-full of Alec's hip and he pulls him into the momentum. Until Alec's settled right on top of the jut of his hip and Greed knocks the backboard with a solid thwack of the heel. His teeth release then and the Sin inspects the slight indentation with an admiring sneer.]
[Alec thinks he understands what Greed is going to be doing with his teeth, and he doesn't cry out in pain or shock when they latch on because pain like this is something he can take, when it mixes with desire and contentment, when it's mild to begin with.]
[Alec does shift against Greed's body, even with the teeth as a different sort of anchor, because he wants to find more skin to touch and because he wants to admire the sight that Greed makes against the bed, wanting and wilful.]
[Then he's finding refuge in words, because he doesn't know what this is, but he's sure that it makes him vulnerable, and he's not comfortable with that, even as his fingers scrunch against the pattern of the bite, admiring it with his own touch.]
So certain you can handle all that? [Alec's fingers shift to tousle Greed's hair, to muss it if he isn't already too mussed for that sort of difference to be noticeable.]
[From Alec's hip, his fingers trail away. Sliding across the curve of his ass and Greed's skull lulls back with a lazy toss. He can't help but laugh at that; the very idea that this is something he couldn't handle and just what is it that Alec takes him for.] I've been doing this a lot longer than you, Alec. Don't you remember?
[But with that hand in his hair, the Sin doesn't make a protest. Instead, he pushes two fingers into his own mouth. Shoving them first knuckle, second, until he's down to the base of things. It isn't the cleanest way to do it, nor is it the most pleasant. But hell, he's had plenty of time to wait.]
[A pop pulls the duo out and Greed reaches behind Alec's back. He moves closer as he does, hitching up by the torso so that his too-hot breath masks just at the edge of Alec's throat.] Just depends on whether or not you can. [With a distraction in play, he slips a finger down and in. Just pushing, prying inside Alec. Not all the way, no. But enough.]
[Alec chortles under his breath, amused even with the edge of irritation that seeps through. Greed might have been doing this longer than Alec, but he hasn't been doing it with Alec for that time, and while that might not make this special, it does mean a little extra care might be required, because Alec knows he's brittle, and he wouldn't be here if he thought Greed wanted to break him.]
[So he lets Greed press the finger sticky with spit, but green eyes lock with his.]
There is the oil, wherever it's gotten to. [Managing scorn despite the tight feeling of pleasure and promise in his belly is a skill, and one that Alec has honed finely enough that he can use it even now.]
[Ah, right. His smile chases the line of his jaw, his eyes drop, and Greed slips on the retreat again. A few shifts in the dark have that heat of his leaving; letting the lick of warm-cool air in as it drifts haplessly through the strewn open window.]
[But that absence doesn't last long.]
[Greed's at Alec's mouth - almost touching, but barely there. Signature smiles at the ready and teeth made to snap, the Sin makes a growl lodge and hold in his throat. Tuning like a fork against the smooth side of his razors. The noise says it louder than words; than any sort of tricks and traits he may have:]
[He isn't human and he never would be.]
[His fingers are hot and slick; soaked in the bottle of choice and lathered just right. Greed sways his head away and his eyes peel open at half-mast in the dark.] Demanding as always - guess I owe you that much.
[But the second time, he doesn't hesitate. Sliding his hand, a forearm, between Alec's legs. The Sin's taken a place at his partner's side, holding himself just out of the action for a moment longer. A press of an index first, middle knuckle second; he hooks with one and lengths the other. Pressing inside with a quick-fast jerk of the wrist.]
Gotta show me - [Greed hisses at Alec's ear, tentatively hovering the tips of his wicked teeth at the skin.] - exactly what you want. You're good at ordering things out of me - seems only fair.
You'll thank me for that later. [When Alec is slick and smooth around him, and when Alec wants to do this again, rather than calling it an experience and enough. Despite the pleasure pushing through him, the intense satisfaction of knowing that this is what Greed wants, what Greed chooses to do with him, Alec's voice is scornful, mocking.]
[Greed might not be human, but he's a monster in control of himself, and Alec's willing to give him what he wants.]
[Wants to give Greed what he wants.]
Am I showing you or am I using my words?
[He's almost certainly better at the latter -- or at least controlling it, making sure that the story he wants to be believed is the one that he puts out there -- but then Greed knows that, and that might be reason enough for him to want the former.]
[Right now Alec feels relaxed and anticipatory enough that he's confident he can manage anything.]
That's a stupid question. [He hooks his fingers, prodding a bit deeper. A grin chases and ghosts across the shell of Alec's ear when he's close. Just inches apart; the space so minor, so insignificant it's almost terrible. But wickedness is a trait he embodies - that he lives by. Greed's eyes shiver with the smallest opening. He's picking up a rhythm with his first inspection. Extending his fingers and curling them back, keeping up a steady beat.]
Both. [An order. Hushed through the points of his teeth as he breathes and speaks into Alec's ear. It shouldn't be hard to guess: his avarice running rotten, demanding as much as his partner is willing to give. Which is to say, all of it. Every whisper, every demand. Every plea beckoned on whimpering pleas.]
[It's a confession. Turned upside down and coaxed out. Not with a promise of savior, but with every intent to damnation.]
[Greed releases Alec's ear with a nip and in the same second his coaxing motions hold still.]
[It's nigh unto impossible for Alec to control his body, for him to force himself into holding himself loosely if he feels frightened, but right not that's not a real issue. After all, he wants Greed, and he is plenty willing to let his body betray his control. In this sort of situation more than most, he can let go enough to find out where he's going to end up.]
[Alec's body presses back towards the stilled fingers, trying to move around them if Greed won't move them again, even as Alec can guess at what the game plan is, can only presume that Greed's trying to encourage Alec to want, and the way to do that is for him not to be having without asking. That's fine, Alec doesn't mind, and Greed had warned him.]
Then get on with it. [Alec's voice is still an elegant drawl, words drawn out like he's in no rush to have them heard, like he's not lying in the bed of a man whom he wants badly to fuck him.] Fuck me.
[Alec's fingers reach out, groping blindly, trying to find Greed's cock, to touch him, to make the message that much clearer.]
[The laughter that follows is banked. Spoiled like rotten milk and just as thick. Greed slides his fingers back, prodding the extension of his knuckle all the way to the end. This is what he's wanted; a confession, a plea. Begging for a need that Alec's been so good at keeping under lock and key. The Sin's smile goes jagged as he feels fingers reach out for his cock.]
[No use waiting anymore. He already has what he wants.]
[He coils on Alec; serpent-slick and molding above him. Both elbows plant to either side of his partner's skull, allowing him to loom over. A hunter's sense, a predator's pose. Greed touches his nose against the side of Alec's head and his weight rocks to the opposing side. A second later, with faster movements and almost inhuman reflexes, he's got his would-be lover by the hip, then the thigh. Greed coaxes the leg aside, letting it flow the trail of his shoulder when it dips to the command.] Now that wasn't so hard, was it?Looks like you and I finally see eye to eye.
[The muscles of his stomach make knots. Pulling, tensing to drive up and inside. But the Sin in question makes not a sound. Instead, his lips wetly part. Shining the sharps of his teeth to a vacant light; igniting with the quickly-dwindling leftovers of a long-sought evening.]
[Greed's pace is slow at first. Slipping the tip of his cock in, moving further down the shaft. He's halfway inside when his rattler-gaze opens. Taking in everything Alec's willing to give. Sacrificing to him with breathy need, with a want that's almost intoxicating.]
[It's practically a favored drug and he couldn't have asked for better.]
[His right hand snaps out to the bed post, digging in with real enough nails that don't shiver black. That don't hook with weapon precision. No - he'll let his 'Shield down. Let the kid wander and have until he asks for more.]
[Greed is powerful, and it's something that's all the more apparent as Alec watches him. His own eyes are wide open, fixed on the other man's face even before Greed opens his.]
[Alec is open, his body ready for this, but it's more than just satisfaction at being filled that Greed instills in him. If Greed sees this as a victory of sorts, then so does Alec. After all, Greed has to want it just as much as he does, to pursue it like this and that thought is enough to make Alec's lips curve up into something that could be smugness and is certainly satisfaction.]
[And he can't say that he minds that this what he gets for the moment, because it's taken enough time to get to this point and because he knows he's opening himself up to what might be too much to handle.]
Eye to something, at least. I can think of lots of things I'd like to look at.
[This is Alec relaxed and comfortable, and it might not be an easy thing to achieve, might not even be all that valuable, but Alec's going to enjoy himself in this state, even if he's still not going to shut up.]
[Whatever sort of complaints Alec has, Greed merely grins to the fact. As his stomach tights and his hips just roll to the rhythm. There's a sound just outside - the strumming of a beggar on a guitar, a few voices chatting through the early morning. It doesn't matter to him. It's the life he knows and as he pushes into Alec, Greed lowers his head away from the arm latched firmly into the headboard.]
Didn't think you were about to complain. Still a fucking brat even now - tsk.
[But he isn't upset. Not in the slightest. Amused even, as his face presses into the side of Alec's neck. With a leg over his shoulder, the Sin releases his hold and runs his fingers down Alec's thigh, down his leg. Using it as a point to drive himself deeper, to sink himself in without even a hitch to his breath.]
[He doesn't need it. Not like humans do, not like others might in the same situation. A fuck is a fuck and his always get top priority. But that doesn't mean he can change what he is - a selfish creature and when he finds the right pace, Greed grins wide against the sweat at Alec's skin. He hums into it, practically purring his appreciation over the dull-knocks coming from the headboard.]
[The wood smacks against the wall, retracts, and smacks again. Muting the outside buzz to only a slight whisper and the draft coming in is a chill-warmth. Like summer without a taste of humidity. It smells of what one would expect it to: liquor and cigarette smoke. Motor oil and the faint tinge of copper. A place that Greed calls home, that he calls his own.]
[The Sin's fingers flex at the headboard and reattach. He's moving quicker and his cock's halfway in when he grabs Alec's throat. With lips that suck in the skin, letting a tease of those teeth again. He's marking the other - showing the world that what's his?]
[Except that neither of them is really surprised by Alec doing this -- or Greed shouldn't be, no matter what he says -- the same way that neither of them is surprised by Greed's possessiveness, by his apparent desire not just to have, but also to keep. As if marking Alec will help with that more than satisfying him would.]
[As if marking Alec does anything at all.]
[As if Alec is worth marking.]
[But he can't help the snide remark, or he can but doesn't want to. Greed either knows what he's doing or he's in way too far over his own head, and Alec won't deny that for the moment it feels good to belong, even if it's just in this old bed.]
Perhaps my expectations were too high.
[As if Greed can't pound Alec into the bedframe, as if he's not the most powerful partner Alec's ever had. (As if Alec has had as many partners as he likes to pretend.) As if Alec isn't hard enough to put the lie to all his words.]
["Perhaps my expectations were too high." It's meant to sting. To bring that ego of his down a notch, to make him believe that this is all Alec is. Someone who feels he has no worth and all of it; someone who doesn't care about living and death, yet has no desire to lose it all. A contradiction in every form and oh, isn't it just rich.]
[Greed forces himself to the hilt, pushing inside Alec until his cock's gone with one last roll of the hips. And it's there that he stops; hovering over Alec while a low rumble of laughter crawls up his throat. But it isn't angry, not even a hiss. More like an airy whisper. It makes the muscles of his stomach tighten and those red lines of his seem to turn on like a furnace to the catch.] You really are a little shit, aren't ya. Fine - have it your way.
[The leather bands on his wrist ripple out and snap to his skin once the 'Shield comes up again. It winds like a road in black stretching on an infinite stretch. Greed releases the hook of his talons and the wood groans right back. The threat of dawn on the horizon turns the crooked shadows purple-blue. Washing and lapping at the gold that threatened its turf, it ignites the holes left behind as the Sin retreats.]
[But instead of using those weapons to rip and tear; to mark, kill, and maim as was their original intention, the Sin presses his forehead to Alec's own. Shoves skull to skull as his torso rolls and rocks. He twists like that, undulating in a clockwise motion as his claws skip across Alec's leg and trail between.]
[The feel of that pitch-black skin is odd in its design. Warm and chill, similar to a smooth-sided piece of metal that's been coaxing the edge of a fire just an hour prior. Greed traces his thumb under the base of Alec's cock, trailing down until the lip of his talon cups his balls. He bucks then, pulling himself out and back in to a beat that's all his own.]
[All the while, Greed's eyes stay poised. Flicking up and down Alec as he presses the tips of his nails and gropes him. With a touch that could easily turn this whole thing sour if he wasn't him. If he were programmed like the rest, Alec would be as good as dead.]
[Instead, Greed takes his throat and notches his teeth in. Holding him against the headboard as he presses his hips, promising to grind them both into dust. And still, his talons play. Cupping and rolling, fingering and touching to the same rhythm he takes.]
[Sex is sex, fucking and fucking. But for his own, he'll always try one better.]
[There's the thing about Alec, where there's what he think he wants and what he's sure he deserves, and there's an awful lot of space between the two definitions, an awful lot of space for him to exist in, even if it won't please him.]
[But this pleases him, of course it does, this moment where it's not his body betraying him and not his desire making him give way, but a combination of being desired and being needed, to the point where Alec thinks that Greed is enjoying this almost as much as Alec himself is, even if it's for all the wrong reasons, or even if Alec's aren't as right as he'd hope.]
[But he's not going to last long like this, not when Greed is so powerful and so clear with his wanting, not when he's being alien and unnatural and Alec is drinking it up, trying to absorb the strangeness in through all their points of contact.]
[Greed is alien and in control and so many things that Alec isn't, but that hasn't kept Alec from getting him here, and it isn't going to keep him from enjoying himself.]
[He arches his back, pressing his body against Greed's, making sure that he can feel the promise of everything that there could be between them, making sure that Greed has to keep giving in order to get as good as he will.]
[Making sure that Alec gives instead of just taking.]
You wouldn't want me as much if I were like everyone else.
[Whether it's true or not, Alec is going to choose to believe it, to get the most out of this encounter by telling himself that he's special, that Greed is doing this for him as much as he's doing it for himself.]
[It's clear when the 'Shield starts its descent again. He's dropping it: that slick armor falling away and his wristbands come back, his calloused touch returns. Greed keeps his forehead touching against Alec's, brushing as his hips roll. Sweat smears across his own brow and really, whether it's his or Alec's? It doesn't matter.]
No, you're right. I really wouldn't have it any other way.
[He stops fucking him for a brief second. This position won't do and it's all too ordinary. Too normal and this back and forth bullshit they've had has lasted far enough. Greed slips out, his hand reaches to snag the bottle of oil again. He nudges Alec with his chin, ordering the other on.] Up there - [A suggestion, though he doesn't waste time showing Alec exactly where he wants him. Greed uses his own muscle to his advantage and his arm slips under Alec's, leveraging his own stupor to flip him over. Thick knuckles force themselves through the slits of his companion's fingers and grip, dragging his hand up and over the restless headboard.]
But talking to me like that? Tsk - you really are a pissant. [But no matter his protest, he's never been angry at Alec. Frustrated, sure. The kid often denied himself what he wanted, punished himself for things out of his control. It doesn't make sense to him and it never truly will: the human need to damn oneself.]
[Greed crawls behind Alec and when he slams their twined hands against the wall, the noise sounds violent. A crack groans across the peeling paint, but the homunculus doesn't care. What he wants right now is right in front of him and he's played the fiddle long enough.]
[Soaked fingers drip and he kneads the substances between his nails. Until it's sticky, warm, and he smears a bit across Alec's ass. A signature and a promise before he's knuckle deep again. He sinks in, caressing back until he's sure the kid can handle it.]
[Their affair is a strange one. A dynamic that the Sin in question really can't make heads or tails of entirely. Alec's always been one to change his mind; quicker than a drop of a dime. Greed hesitates before his nose touches the backside of his partner's neck.] Watch it, hmn? Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.
[Greed's hand retracts when he feels the tightness subside and he gives a flick to his own cock, slicking it for another round. He grabs Alec by the dip of his shoulder and his teeth settle in, his hips press. At first, he's only got the tip in. The rest of his hard-on follows and when he bucks, it isn't without a fever. Slow, rhythmical, and hard. The bed jerks back, slams forward.]
[And all that he gives is a brief growl. A sound that's both pleased and telling of his nature.]
[Alec might change his mind easily enough as a general rule, but for all that Greed is challenging him, trying to make him reconsider or commit, or maybe just to be aware of the nature of the thoughts he’s committing himself to. There’s no real problem with him doing that, because Greed is close and warm even before he’s pressing in that much closer, and his presence is a promise, not a threat.]
[Still, Alec can also understand a hint, as much as he might not choose to take it all the time. (As he’s said already, he wouldn’t be the man that Greed had invited up to his bed if he felt so bound by things like social nicety.)]
[This hint comes as nicely as any has, and Alec is content enough to focus on the way that Greed is playing his body, those hands practiced in a way that perhaps should not be quite so sexy, but is. Alec has no problem with someone else showing initiative in the bedroom — in large part because it means he can still state his opinions without being overbearing, that he can go along with it enough for it not to be quite so obvious that Alec’s own experience base isn’t quite as deep as he’d like to pretend it is.]
[Greed’s care is appreciated, for all that Alec finds himself quickly to be moving further on with it, before his body is necessarily on board with that particular plan. It’s important to seize the moment when he’s mentally ready, Alec is sure, and one of his great frustrations has also been that what he thinks doesn’t correspond with reality. It would be nice if the world worked a different way.]
[Still, he’d wanted to be in bed with Greed, and that is what he’s achieved, so perhaps it’s not all wrong.]
[But for all that there’s pleasure, the fact that Greed is calling Alec a pissant, is making conversation, as it were, is all the more incentive for Alec to respond, to show that he can give as good as he can get, at least in one small aspect of this interaction.]
You’re not all just empty words.
[Pissant he’d promised to be, but that’s a compliment, and it comes out in practically a purr as Alec shifts to make sure that Greed is nice and close, that when he pounds in Alec can really feel it. After all, if this is worth doing, it’s worth doing right, and that means making it as pleasurable as they can, for both of them.]
[Even from behind, that signature grin of his is all too obvious. The heat at his mouth parts with a hiss; with a wet smack of lips as they tighten to the all-too-familiar pull. Greed presses up against Alec's back and the odd red-lines decorating his shoulders and torso are warm too the touch. Slick with a sort of warmth that's wicked in design; that's sickly in nature. Greed hums with Alec purrs, matching the pitch in an ill-suited harmony.]
And you're not entirely a pain in the ass. Good to know.
[The fresh bite marks are indented with a promise of bruises in the morning. Not that he cares, not that he'd ever care. It's his calling, a warning to others - in the end, Alec could do whatever he wanted. But there would always been the next devil knock-knock-knocking at the door.]
[The Sin's hand springs open, fanning palm-first across Alec's prominent hipbone. He digs his nails in like a vice, anchoring the other still as he forces himself cock-deep. A breath of air escapes his nose with a pleased sort of sound, but that's the only thing that comes out of him. Before he's rocking, thudding, and picking up a pace that's both drawn-out and relentless.]
[He's everywhere and no where at the same time. His nose presses into the back of Alec's skull, his sneer spreads across the matte of hair slicking across the other's neck. And his hands leave, then return. Springing wide open like a feline to pounce, only to lightly scratch and kneed at his companion's stomach. The lines he leaves behind are pink to the touch, but not enough to drawn blood. Just a reminder of just who or what Alec really belongs to.]
[Which is him and him alone.]
[The headboard cracks against the back wall again and Greed finally grabs Alec by the base. His hand coils around finger by finger, nail by nail. Careful to keep the deadly points away while his thumb finds the rhythm of his hips. The Sin presses the flat of his finger against the head of Alec's cock, rolling it counter clockwise to find the beat.]
Give it to me lovely and I'll be sure to do you the favor - [His voice curdles from behind; toxic and moist as he speaks just at the shell of Alec's ear. A tease of a nip follows, those razors skating across the outside rim of his companion's ear. He snaps his tongue off the roof of his mouth, letting it roll slowly towards the backside of his teeth.]
[Alec isn't inclined to think about his next partner while he's still in bed with the first, and while he might, under other circumstances, think to fuss about the marks that Greed is making on his body (on his soul, but that's stupid, Alec doesn't even believe in the soul, he's smarter, better educated than that), not now.]
[And of course it wouldn't make a difference anyway, because Alec is nowhere near as comfortable or as commonly given to sex as he likes to pretend.]
You're more apt to be the pain in mine. [And yet this is a pain in his ass that Alec relishes the idea of, will welcome the reality of as much as he'll welcome the memory of what these bruises will mean.]
[If this is what belonging feels like, maybe it's not so bad as all that. Maybe it's a very different way of coming home, having a place and a person, than Alec has always been afraid of. Of course, it's easy to think that now, when Alec can be sure that Greed's attention won't last, that something or someone else will prove to be more interesting. Or that Greed will simply prefer the idea of what he doesn't have to the reality of what he does.]
[And if there's one thing Alec can be sure of, it's that he won't accept having himself thought of as being second best.]
Call me more sweet names, and you can have anything you want.
[And it's a lie, of course it is, because Alec already knows what Greed wants, and it's what he wants too, and because Alec will always be contrary. Except right now, because he does want it, and Greed is giving him everything that he needs to get there.]
[And so is it any surprise, that with Greed in him and around him and pressing against him, that Alec gives I to the inevitability and let's go off what passes for his control. His body clenched around Greed's length, and he cries out with pleasure, with satisfaction, as his release rushes from his own cock.]
[ Her greeting to him was some mock formality, hardly so kind, in truth, if anyone knew what smiling eyes could hide. But all the same, with a love and a kindness she kept for only the most naive of children, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, her hand curling to cup his jaw. A lover, a wife, or an old friend. No one was ever bold enough to say what she meant by such an action. But to her, as ever, it was a game of smiles and twisted meaning.
And sweet as the gesture was, it was contrasted, by the blade she pressed into his hand, a gift and a request all at once. The blade was plain, no stones decorated it, though there was a carving engraved alone the pommel. There were a hundred blades like it in the city. It was why she had given it to him. It would be untraceable. ]
I've work for you, if you'd like it.
[ As if he would have no idea what that work was, like this was a meeting done in proud daylight and not in a back alley. Like they were respectable gentlemen. But she turned, trusting him enough to not run her through like a wild animal ( and so many said she was). Her skirts clutched in one hand and held as she navigated the old blood stains on the floor, like she could see them even now. Above it, even if she caused it. ]
[It was easy to find the devil if one had the right cards; to call him out and she had been given the proverbial extension a long time ago. When she had first graced the city with her unworldly presence, turning down cobblestone and candle-light to find the gaping hole. The one people warned about, the one that seemed to take fire-light and swallow it whole.]
["There are demons down there," they had said. "-and they're coming for us."]
[Which was slightly true and slightly not in the same breath. He, himself, took to orders when they came. From another source entirely, one stashed away deep underground. A secret kept by the people running office and no one else knew the wiser.]
[But sometimes, the mortal lot surprised and she was always full of them. Her violence, her wrath, and when she came to visit, it didn't surprise him. Instead, he merely smiled to the crack-spit of a burning candle. The touch of hell-fire at those teeth and his shoulders rolled up. Sending the long fur collar of his jacket spiraling across the broad-side of his neck.]
C'mon, lovely, you know I don't need that.
[As if to make his point clear, Greed extended his nails. Shot them out, a feline ready to pounce, and claws met steel with a horrible sound. The melody of the damned as sparks flew off the blade. Punctuating with every bump and scratch of his terrible talons.] Though, don't you have someone who does this for you? You know I don't work for you, right?
[The seven deadlies and they weren't for human consumption. Weren't drafted under a flag or a kingdom, but under one individual alone. The father of monsters and the Sin rose to his feet. Reached his claws to the wick of the candle and pinched it out.]
[Smoke spun from his talons as he turned to face her. Those eyes like beacons in the dark.] You should know better.
[But his smile told a different story. Dangerous and sick as he motioned himself over his hips; undulating with the thought, far too eager with the proposition.]
[ They'd warned her, so many times, against her wickedness. Her own men even -- warned her to be cautious. That those she dealt with would kill her one day.
She would die either way, and perhaps he would be the cause. But she doubted it. There were too many people she had crossed, and asking the devil in was the least of her problems.
After all, she could turn her back on him, and for now, not fear an attack that might come were she with anyone else. With him, she could be alone. Without her men and her killers. ]
You always prefer the dark. [ Her fingers settled on the desk she kept in her small office. Her fingers pressing against the rough wood, running across it's grain before she turned back to him. Hands supporting her as she lent back a little. Relaxed, except for the tension that settled along her spine. ]
The man that killed he who so usually does this for me. [ There was an agitated clench to her draw. But it was gone in an instant, her head tipping with a becoming smile. All sweetness and guile. ] They say it was when he was drunk, caught him being a fool in the street, and they left him with his throat open in one of the back alleys.
[ And she would have believed it too, if it weren't for the fact that there were whispers -- that it was not drunken fight. That the men who had done it, had been wearing Phillip's colours. It took her half a days searching and more gold than she cared for to get the man's name and location.
And she would not have him killed by some amateur. ] I know you have no need of my blade, but my men prefer that you do. [ scared of him, the actions of him that they spoke of in whispers. Skin like hell's fire and a smile when he killed that would make Lucifer jealous. She appreciated it, in a far different way to most. Liked his bloody efficiency, his sleekness and indefatigably.
In the end, the blade had been for her men's peace of mind. A pantomime of violence. Keep it to what they knew best, so they could console themselves as to what their mistress dealt in. ] but you are the best I know. There will be gold. [ She doubted his price would be gold, but the offer was the same. Elizabeth rocked back on her palms a moment, smiling still. But watching him, mostly. Gauging him. So very men she could predict, but him -- she never could. Perhaps that was why she did it. ]
And do you think I care what you humans really want from me? Ha -! You mortal lot think you've got control over everything, don't you.
[His tone was corrective and pleasant; chiding and smarmy. In the end, he didn't really care who or what graced his doorstep. A deal was a deal and when the offer of gold, of wealth, of anything worth his time came knocking at the door, Greed never denied the proposal.]
[But the mortal-lot had plenty to learn and his smile was terrible and wicked. As if he knew her fate in advance, as if he could see it play out piece by piece in the dark. The ticking of her clock in those naked eyes and slit-pupils thickened. Eternity in a flick before they shivered back to sharp points.]
Flattery will get you no where, lovely. But I'll take it anyway. [His heels bounced. Scuffing the floorboards to make dust jump and he circled the table to meet her. While one arm reached back to shuffle and snatch the long end of his coat - ankle length, worn leather, and something a pauper or a tradesman would wear. And probably did at some point, but that was neither here nor there.]
[Besides, the guy didn't need it anymore anyway.]
[The blade sunk in there - between the back bend of his leather slacks and a red-spun sash he wore around the waist. For the time, he both stuck out and blended in. Mistaken for a different breed, for someone high-society would mark an undesirable. But how wrong they were - the definition practically laughable.]
[Because in the end, it was he who desired all.]
Gold's fine, but I think you're going to have to do a little bit better than that this time. Especially since you've been so rude. [Greed hummed, touching his teeth with his tongue and maybe he was serious, maybe he wasn't. It was hard to gauge and she aptly pointed him as such. Unpredictable with his breeding and like the rest, he had plenty of other ideas in mind.]
[But he merely shrugged. Released the length of his jacket to let it fall back. Lapping at his ankles and the Sin dipped to bring his face to her own.]
You know how this works, though. I do this and it might not end well for you, later on. The others? Don't tend to like you and yours. [Greed's lips pressed together as his eyes wandered over her. Tracing out her legs, her thighs - the bump of her hips and the curve of her chest.] Thankfully for you, they're out doing good ol'Dad's work. Shouldn't be much of a problem.
[He moved past. Sliding and slipping, a shadow made of blood and sharp angles. Only to stop at her side, his gaze locking hard with a back wall.]
I know you don't care. I have no wish to control you, but I have a need to control them.
[ And that was what it came down to. Her precarious business, of protecting those of the slums, came so hand in hand in slicing the throats of those that dared to cross her, interfere with the smuggling shipments. All matter of wicked things she did where no one could see her doing such.
And they called her unnatural, but weak for a woman. As if a woman had no stomach for violence.
She smiled still, because he played so will. Enjoyed this more than she should, most in the end bored her quick mind and quicker tongue when it came to deals. ] My flattery does nothing? And here I thought to court you with it. Such a shame. [ As if she were a knight and he the lady. But a courtship such as this, ended in blood. ]
Tell me what I can do to convince you then, to make up for my rudeness. [ Because she caught, so briefly the way he looked at her. And she'd gouged men's eyes out for daring to do so too many times. But she was content to play, with him and with this deal. ] Jewels? Whores? I've a shipment come in from China and my girls are the cleanest in the city. [ She'd feed his greed, even if he'd never be sated, for awhile, she could supply. ]
[ Her head tipped back in laughter at his warning. ] Caring for my well being, Greed? Don't tell me you're growing soft on me. I know what they say of me, what they think of me. [ as far as he lent in, she curled around him. Leaning back into him without touching. Let him look, as much as he liked, if that was what it took. Her fingers wrapped around the pearls that hung low from the neck, twisting them up and around before letting them tumble free, settling over her chest again. ] I am beginning a war by doing this. And believe me, I will win it.
[ Her smile spread slowly like a lion's grin. A mockery of the King's gone before when she likened herself to one. ] Be a dear and fire the first shot for me?
[Outside was a buzz. The nightlife crawling out from the dank and the dreary. To steal and rob, to fuck and kill. Humans had basic instincts and there was no use denying any of them. Despite the many that flocked to steeples and asked for a cleansing, one could not wash the blood off so easily.]
[Greed sunk his nails into the desk. Scratched lines, made the wood peel-back into tightly-spun ribbons. Unlike many he dealt with, she was one of the first who ever challenged. Who dared to meet him at his own game and it was something he could appreciate.] All of it, but make sure the gals aren't hurt. Even I have a few morals, Tudor.
[The Sin turned his head to the window. The night would be chilled, slightly moist. An eerie in between that ushered in the changing of seasons and there would be enough fog to hide and dart: it was the perfect setting for a business proposition such as this. He'd have to thank her for the good timing.]
[But not right now. Instead, she was offering, and he wasn't about to back down.] Going to guess I can't ask you not to come with me, right? [He didn't like showing that side - that ugly side that mocked a smiling skull right back. Especially not to more feminine company, but then again, when was she so feminine. She looked the part, acted the part, but deep down she was something far more.]
[If he thought that she would last, he would have offered her up to replace someone else he knew all too well.] A war, huh? You're thinking a bit too small, but whatever you want, right?
[The Sin released his claws. Urged down the recede of his 'Shield as he slipped hand after hand into his pockets. He turned his attentions towards the exit, then. That smile of his courted and curved as he shrugged. As if this were merely a casual meeting between two good friends and not a ploy for murder and revenge.]
[ There was the same dry laugh, devoid of any true amusement. Some how, disappointed for a moment though she could not place why. ] Of course you do. And the last man that hurt my women was tossed out on the street with a knife in his ribs.
[ No one touched that which was hers. No one harmed them, for they were hers, and it was something like caring, something like savage possession that marked them as untouchable by the rest of the world. ] They're all yours, for the night that you choose.
[ A smile was all the answer he got. Still predatory, her pulse beating in her throat. It was unnatural -- and it was perhaps why they called her so. A vain, cruel, vicious woman. With a bloodlust that belong to the torturers of the tower, rather than to any lady of the street.
But the fact remained the same. It made her feel so alive. Burning and perfect and out of control. Made her giddy like some women blushed over their lovers. ]
For now, perhaps. Whatever you and yours plan is your business until it comes upon my streets. [ Carved out with a rusty blade, but all hers. ]
As you wish. [ She swept him a curtsey, mocking as it was. Then she stepped around him and his claws, ducking past him on sure feet. A dance, as she twisted and skipped -- heaven knows she'd always been fast where most took too much time. Lead them all a merry chase. ] It's past the docks, in the back alleys there.
[ There were things she wasn't telling him, in the end. Things that made her so particularly cruel that no one but a monster would do for it. She wanted him to know fear, before he died, and Greed was so much fear to behold when the darkness took him. With that thought, she hummed as she opened the door. Like it was the first of May and the young girls danced as she did now.
One quick flick of her wrist dismissed her men from her side, and she looked over her shoulder, watching and waiting for him. ]
[Maybe that was why they worked so well: she was just as greedy as he was. Maybe not to the same fever, the same pitch, but he would silently commend her avarice time and time again.]
[Elizabeth moved like she was possessed. As if another one of his kin had taken her by whatever strings of humanity she had left and pulled. Snapping until each cracked back with the tightness of violin strings. Battering the knuckles, gashing them bloody, and she only reveled in it.]
[It was rare to find in the mortal lot: violence not a stranger, but this particular brand more a mutation. Something wrong in the gene pool, something off.]
[But that didn't seem to bother him too much.]
[Greed's laugh was airy and vile. Similar to the blow-out of bellow after collecting so much dust. The use of it stale and he followed behind her. Her shadow - little shadow crawling to bite and lap at her ankles.] So you are coming with me, then.
[The docks were a good place to start - a marked hunting ground for him in the past and he knew the old wood as good as the serpent crawling across the back of his hand. Each notch where someone might fall; where new planks had been applied and other left to rot. Either way, it could be done as a warning or to heed further suspicion to mark someone else for the deed.]
[It was smart and unsurprising that the idea should come from her.]
Gotta say - I've always admired your avarice - what's yours and is yours and what's mine? ["Is mine," he failed to say. She knew it already and as the men parted away, his hand went to the crook of the door. Pulling him out, like a creature from the ooze. Teeth and fangs; claws and eyes.]
[It was him and them that really bumped in the night.]
[Greed showed off his set, snapped at one of them that got too close, a sneer gracing up his jaw.] You still haven't given me a name, lovely. [He said, ripping away his vicious gesture to talk at her back.]
I'm curious to know just who pissed you off so much to come to me.
[ Elizabeth knew every story they had ever said of her. That her mama was a witch, and her father had killed the bitch of a wife when she'd gotten caught bedding another man. That her Papa raised her mean, ignoring her in favor of a baby brother, and she had become twisted because of it. That she had claws, and lips that were covered with venom, so that if she kissed some poor unsuspecting fool, they'd die. That they'd love every minute of it before they drew their last.
The one thing every story got right, apart from her perchance for violence, she had been bemused to note, was that anything she had ever let go of, had claw marks in it. Pried from aching cold finger tips. Perhaps that was she why liked him best. There was no explanation, only a need to have. ]
I wondered that you ever asked whether I would stay behind.
[ A shrug, at his question, at his admiration, as if she had no need of it, but it was seldom a man ever commented a woman for her sins.
Plentiful as they were. ]
Marcus. I do not know his family name, I don't care to. I know his face. It is enough. [ Etched into her mind like only vengeance could mark such a thing. ]
[The cobblestone street was a maze of hazy fog and flickering lamp-light. The last-ditch efforts of mankind trying to drive the darkness away, but it was a futile effort, and when Greed slithered to her side, he moved just like it. Smooth to caress a wall, extending his arm to her peripheral as he showed his hand the door. With a shove, it opened, bringing in everything wicked that came knocking.]
[Which was him and her - her and him. Two matched in bad-business and the Sin rolled out the point of his boot. Made it cut through the thick settlement. And he jerked his head over his shoulder, if distracted by a ghost or two, before shrugging.] Was worth a shot, anyway.
[Really, he didn't care the guy's name - Marcus, Johnathan, whatever - it was just a target, in the end. Like the rest left in his wake. Some names taken, others tossed aside.]
[It was just business.]
[Greed moved down an alleyway. One that twisted behind building after building, growing narrower as they passed. It was here that people spat and hid - darting when they saw him coming. Instincts on high and he could give them some credit:]
[At least they knew when something wasn't quite right.]
[It was bad company all around. The Queen with her claws and the man who harbored demons. Or was a demon. The stories had changed so many times, Greed had lost count in the last hundred years or so. Rumors turned to tales, tales to legends, and legends to bedtime whispers to keep children far away from the streets at night.]
[He pocketed his hands as his strolled, casual demeanor holding his shoulders, his spine. He walked with a practiced sort of motion, as if he had taken the route a million times before, the quip of smile glowing whenever they crossed a shallow window. When flame shivered and he swallowed it. Lapped it and licked it across the sharps of his teeth.]
Did you set him up already, or is this going to be a surprise visit? [Greed said with mild amusement. Though it was a hushed hiss to keep secrets between; to keep matters private as he nudged the jagged opening with a click of his elbow.]
[ Like this, she was all but an extension of his presence. A masquerade hiding a masquerade. His intent hidden by her presence. His savagery hiding her malicious cruelty.
It might of been a dance, how they wove through the streets. The dark parts of the city that those who wished to be respectable avoided, and whores and thugs gave their trade. Her skirts already stained with muck even before this, her feet light as she stepped over the dirt that covered the ground.
But she tossed her head back, walking like she owned the cobble stones herself. The red hair she was so proud of turned to rust in the half torch light of poorly lit streets. Mistress of this place, no matter how ruthless the man she turned her gaze on, they would doff their hat and dip their head to her. And how she smirked for it, proud to the last. How she laughed when they told her as a girl, she should learn to fear the devil that hid in the dark.
They had stopped scaring her a long time ago, not when the cruelest thing she had ever seen was keeping company with her. ]
He drinks, with his fellows. [ There was a sneer. Loyalty came cheap. Whosoever of her men betrayed her often found that the gold was never enough by the time she was finished with them, and by the same contrast, fealty was rewarded in ample.
How happy it was for her, that Phillip's men were all traitors. Her lips parted further in a silent laugh that was between them both. ] He does not know they have sold him out.
[The air was moist and heavy with the scent of low tide. Dregs of oil lapping at the water's edge with the undertone of everything awful the bay could provide. The rotting wash of fish and bait licking with each caress of a gentle wave and it was slippery. Like that of an eel coiling around the thick wood base. In and out, back and forth.]
[Greed peeled out onto the main stretch, his grin smoldering. With a pinch and a flick, a rolled ignited. Helped by a match struck at the thigh, bringing the flames of Hell at his fingers. To caress his face, shining him in oranges that turned gold at his shades and his skin.]
[It was extinguished with a pinch that seemed like charcoal. His fingers suddenly too dark, too sharp and the Sin inhaled, sending smoke down into his core and out. Billows of it like serpents fleeing through his teeth as he tilted his head back in tow with her own. Found the pulse and stole it, too.]
Tsk - that's cruel, even for you. [He said with a slip of his eyes. Purples to watch as light flicked across the inky-black tide. Making lines where the moon crossed and both outlined in silver.] If you weren't human, she might have liked you.
[But he left it at that. Moving away and birthing room as he tossed heel over heel. Crossing and weaving, his neck sunk into his shoulders. He was a monster in every right: from the way he walked, to how he spoke. But unlike the others, Greed kept to a certain creed. He had tossed away the smoke and mirrors preferring the crueler side of the truth.]
[And almost, always, it won him far more favors.]
[Including the one present and the homunculus stopped at the cobblestone outside the edge of the docks. Rolled his shoulders with a slow-moving twist and his heels knocked against the thickly-spaced wood. Clack, went one. Clunk, went the other. Drawling, the proverbial reaper drawing near as teeth sunk into the end of rolled tobacco. Puncturing with a promise and he stopped once with a solid kick-back. Snapping the shelf of his boot to turn a glance over the fur-cuff of his shoulder.]
Last time, lovely. This is your chance to go on home.
[ Her pretty little lips parted in a smile at his compliment, a sweet girl's smile and beguiling. Her smile had always been her best feature, made her a blushing maid of spring. Only they should of revealed fangs, vicious jaws of a predator that dripped blood down her chin, between her breasts. Staining her in some irrevocably. ]
Thank you, Greed. [ a purr to mimic his own. Heady, inviting. She watched him, the tip of her tongue flicking against her top lip before she turned again to keep walking, contemplating what he saw in her with the gesture more than anything. ] I am human, and no one need like me but you.
[ With that she kept walking, confident in where she was going, that no one would dare stop her.
None save him.
She barely even noticed he stopped until the question cut through the evening mist. Her mind gone some place only she dare go to. Might kill anyone else for stepping into, or at least the look on her face said as much, when he asked. Elizabeth took a step forward, to him. Carefully she reached for him. Like a lover, or something else. Her head tilted to the side, not looking to meet his eyes, or not yet. She smoothed up his chest, curling her fingers in the fur and lost her earnest smile. ] Why do you ask me such tiresome questions? Think you to save me? Spare me more blood on my hands? [ She leant close, a whisper to his ear as he rolled his cigarette, like he was privy to some secret. Her eyes on the star as she spoke, lips there to tease and torment in equal measure. ]
I made my choice long before I knew you. Do not ask me such foolish things ever again, I tire of it. [ She let out a breath, kissed his cheek once more, and stepped away. ]
[She took him like a lover, but damned him like a villain. With sweet words laced like poison, but at least he was used to it. Knives that cut - that told him when he was out of bounds and as she coiled to him, Greed merely shrugged. Raised one hand to give the mildest charade of a surrender.] Noted. Just remember that this was your idea.
[Up ahead, torches flicked. A few unloading their gotten-gains. Crate after crate piling high on the planks and they oozed of fresh fish. Still flopping, gasping for air. It was fitting in a way - how every second that passed, there was something just barely hanging onto life. Dying moments waiting in the balance and it wouldn't just be next-day's market that would be begging for the sweet release.]
[Greed walked with her, shoved his nose to the side of her head. He could snap her neck right then and there; have at everything that was to come. All for himself. But he wouldn't and she knew. That despite his claim to fame, she wasn't on the dinner menu.]
[Not yet, anyway.]
[But he watched the dock, his glance far away as it split the darkness and saw. Every fearful glance, every frozen step. Like time unwinding before him and the Sin was privy to everything. Skipped heartbeats, erratic pulses: it was the best sort of drug.]
[And oh, was he just itching for the chance to show off.] But as long as we're being honest with one another, you and I know you're far too gone to be saved. Don't play bullshit with me, lovely. [The homunculus smiled against her hair, against her skin. Let his breath caress her as much as so wanted to. To take her clothes, to steal her skin. Running his claws down her curves to make her sing so loud that even the dregs of the under-city could hear.]
[That wasn't tonight's plan, though. Which was slightly disappointing.] Mn. [Greed let her go and turned his hands back to his pockets. What a witch and such a tease. He was right when he made the comment.]
[Had Elizabeth been something more, Lust would have liked her.]
[Suddenly, Greed slowed his pace. Waltzing instead of walking and each clap of his heel made the whole deck shiver. As if it knew what was coming and he seemed to melt into shadow. Races of black across his skin and he spat his smoke out. Let it roll across the wood until his boot smothered it and it was only hell-fire ash chasing the cuff of his heels, the billow of his jacket.]
Why don't you do the talking first then? [The creature tilted his head, looked down at her at a diagonal glance.] May as well make him comfortable first, right?
[ Like a marionette, her head canted to the side, eyes cold as his breath marked her like a too hot brand. A threat and a comfort. He was there, he was real, and what could they do to her? When the deadliest man in the street wrapped himself around her, they were as nothing.
But her eyes were cold even as he drank her in, watching the street. She watched how he looked, and for a moment, she considered. It would be bliss. She could fuck a man like him, because he wasn't a man at all, and wouldn't fail her like all the others did.
When on earth had her expectations from life gotten so low?] Bullshit, Greed? When have I ever pretend to be anything less than what I am?
[ Her cardinal sin, pride. Wrapped in vanity wrapped in her hunger for more. ( Always, always more. ) She might lie to others, often and as easy as breathing, but with him, she gave more than she did to most, which seemed to suit him.
When his grip lifted, she took the moment to roll her shoulders and sigh deeply. Letting him and all the complications he presented go from her mind, the half meant warnings she wanted to snap out and the welcoming murmurs she wished to give. Slipping from one mask to another in the shadows. A woman had so many that she could don them like dresses, and Elizabeth found herself with more than most. Now it was just a matter of tweaking, tugging her dress down to leave her shoulders bare. Mussing up her hair and biting her lips until they went red and kissed-bruised.
Little more than a street harlot to look at. Might of passed better for it, if her eyes were not half so much worse, all the same, it let her slip by relatively unnoticed. He was gone from her mind then, her own men to meet that she had left on watch, to talk with briefly and give instructions with what she wanted done. When and where and how. They scurried like rats to her orders. And it was only so much time before they heard what she needed. A brief nodded, and she wound her way back to Greed.
Mimicking again, and she ever did. Miming others intention, mocking almost for it. But she smiled and dipped her head, wound her arm around his. Lovers on a promenade. ]
I've a gift for you. Will you come see? [ Angels could not look so sweet. But she nodded ahead to a bar, that seemed mostly empty but for a flickering candle through a grubby window frame.
[Everyone woman had her consort and every witch had her cat. Greed was latter - the black feline to bring the worst of luck to anyone who crossed his path. Whether intentional or not; whether it was just bad timing or worse, it all ended the same. In tears and bloodshed. In a confession spoken not from the mouth, but from the eyes. The dying breath of a soul clinging to life, begging to have and spare.]
[But avarice-incarnate spared little, if any.]
[It was why it worked. Between him and Elizabeth. Eventually, time or the knife would take her and Greed would have to find someone else. But for now, the arrangement was simple: one scratched back exchanged for another and as Elizabeth took the lead, the Sin stayed behind her. Like the looming form of a shadow, the Nosferatu to take her when she least expected it.]
[But she wasn't so innocent and she had summoned him. All under the gaze of pretty lashes, pursed lips, and a naked shoulder.]
[Greed swayed with her stride, clacked when she clicked. As they towed down the length of the dock and the lights became dimmer and dimmer. Bringing in more of the thickness of night, shrouding what lay just below the surface. He could smell it more out here than he could before: the rotting stank of flesh, the crude growing old in barrels packed far over their capacity.]
[Humanity's greed was always impressive.] A gift, huh. [A low rumble from behind her and the homunculus slipped to her side. Watching the dock and the men that scurried when she came prancing across the wood. She was demented - deranged in her mirth. In her promise for carnage and revenge.]
[And Greed, if anything, was more than a little charmed.]
It had happened so fast. The world slipping through his fingers, deafening in his ears. Like a vacuum on full-blast, a whirl-wind of voices shouting. Of people screaming: "Run, run, run as fast as you can!" They had shoved into each other, trampled over the living as though they were part of the concrete below. In the chaos, he had lost sight of most: of faces he knew, faces that were his. Until one stood out and he grabbed her by the collar. Snatched her wide-eyed look and just spat:
"C'mon kid!"
Greed couldn't remember the rest. He knew, as the last train out was leaving, that Zelien was falling apart behind them. Taken by a sea of black that didn't stop. Eating away buildings, tearing apart steel. Stones crashed against the side of the cart and he was aware that she had said something. But he couldn't recall what. All that he remembered were the lights going out and that sick sensation of melting.
Then, the whistle blew.
Greed flicked open his pocket-watch: 10:03. PM, but the looks of it. Dotted windows lit up in warm gold passed by, the locomotive going at a steady pace. He had checked it - asked which way the train was heading.
The response was more of a surprise than he had anticipated. "Dublith?" The Sin turned his head, watched the woman at the back with a pursed lower-lip. "You sure?"
"Are you all right, sir? You don't look so - "
"Eh-," Greed had started as he waved his hand. The shock would pass and his system was already putting the pieces back together. "-yeah, don't worry about it, lovely. Just been traveling for a while." Which was the truth - Zelien was far away and this was. Well, it was home.
"What year is it?" He asked, distracted.
"Sir - sir are you sure you're all right?" The homunculus had lost track of her words, then. Eyes swiveling behind his shades, his thin-slits knocking wide and thin erratically. There was a newspaper - strung out across a passenger's face who was far more interested in sleep than the current conversation.
1918.
"Yeah, yeah. Like I said - been traveling a bit, hmn?" He met the bewildered glance of the stewardess with a toothy grin. "Didn't mean to scare ya."
A few tracks covered and a brief exchange had Greed padding back to the back-car. He had someone else to worry about at the moment, as much as his own need was begging for answers. Someone curled up into a vacant cart and Greed scratched a knuckle to the bare of his neck - ah, right.
His vest was thrown up on her - the best make-shift blanket he could offer, given the circumstances. Which were less than stellar. Maybe it had been a bad choice, grabbing her then. She had people - she had family. She wasn't a misfit or an outcast. Just a little girl, barely out of the safe reaches of a mother's arms, and yet.
Yet.
Greed hooked his heel into the arm rest of a seat. In his hand were two glasses - one filled with water, the other filled with something a little more. With his finger latched inside the lip of one, he gently padded the cool touch of glass against her cheek. Urging her awake.
"Oi, oi, oi - don't tell me you went and died on me, kid. You're a little too good for that."
In a moment, all around her, everything had started to shatter apart. Buildings cracking, shattering, people screaming, everything making noise until it all turned into a single endless roar in Kaede's ears. She screamed, she thinks she screamed, cried out for Barnaby and Ivan and more than anything, her father. Her friends and family.
Then, amidst the chaos, even as she started to fall due to someone shoving her, a familiar face came up before hers. Greed. She doesn't think twice when he grabs her collar, just reaching up and lacing her arms around his neck before she gets pulled down by the tide, crying out in a scream of pure fear.
Her eyes close, but she feels her power activate. Across her skin, her whole body, the Shield comes to life and devours her flesh until nothing remains but blackness, her face buried into the collar of his vest.
Like this, she has no idea when she goes under, but under she goes, until something cold nudges at her cheek.
Her eyes slowly open and deeply, she regrets having to wake. Every inch of her body hurts, the after math of every muscle being tight, bruises from being shoved and slammed into, and whatever had torn Zelien apart. It all comes back in a rush and her eyes open completely, lifting to Greed and meeting his. She lets out a shaking breath, confusion and fear in her eyes as she stares. "Greed?" Her voice is rough from screaming, but she forces aching muscles to sit her up, looking around a train car like she has never seen before in her life. "What... Was that... another Rift?" Like they had experienced before in Zelien, assuming that is what it was. It had to be.
"Don't know," Greed takes the seat opposite Kaede, throwing his heels up next to her as he slides comfortably into the vacant lot. The water's tossed up onto a sill, for whenever she finds the stomach to take a sip and the Sin points it out with a lazy index. From the side of his own drink that's rich-amber thick and pungent. "-but I don't think so."
Greed churns his wrist, making the liquor in his glass spin and the ice with it. The cubes chime against the sides, rolling and sloshing against one another while his eyes narrow slightly. He briefly wonders how many got out, how many didn't, before the train of thought's a little too sour and he sinks into his shoulders. Shrugs it off. "Doesn't look like the rest came with us."
Which points to an answer he doesn't really want to tell her. So he'll save it - at least, for now.
Greed lifts the scotch to his lips. Tosses it down his throat before a flick of a thumb catches the left-overs traveling the dip of his chin. He briefly pops it into his mouth, licks it clean. "Drink up, kid. We've still got an hour before we reach the station."
Again, the train whistles and Greed's lips pull into a mild snarl. His glance is a bit distant as he forces a grin to his face. "And I don't need you passing out on me just yet. Would only be more trouble for the both of us."
Not like they didn't have enough trouble as is. He's supposed to be two-years dead and she? Well, that's an entirely different can of worms Greed's not interested in popping just yet.
So, he shifts his ankles. Laces them as he settles his arms across the lengthy back-side of the worn leather passenger cart. A hike of the shoulder as him rocking to the side and he takes another glance at Zelien's parting gift. The hands still point at 10:03 and the second's twitching between one and two. As if stuck there, perpetually frozen.
The Sin pockets it. "Least I know where we are this time," he says, casually. "-and not much seems to have changed."
"What?" The single word is breathy, almost terrified as she stares at him, horror clutching at her heart. She manages to stand up, looking up and down the car, then back to Greed. "What do you mean the others didn't come with us?? They have to be around here somewhere!" There is a definite rise in volume and pitch on that last word. The sound of fear.
"Where are we?" She jumps at the loud whistle, slowly sitting back down but she's shaking. "Zelien was- was breaking apart. It didn't look like the other Rifts."
Right! She pulls out her watch in a hurry and tries, desperately, to get her family pulled up, to reach out to them, but the fear continues to grow inside of her when she realizes that nothing is connected. Nothing reaches out. The feeds are dark.
It's hard to watch, hard to listen to. "Give me an answer," her eyes seem to say. "-please, please, give me the right answer." Greed reaches out and peels forward. Away from his perch as two heels settle to the vibrating floor of the train. A whoosh of air sends them pitching through a black tunnel and the car-lights flicker and buzz to life with the slowness of a gas-fuse.
"-never said there wasn't a possibility. After all, there's no such thing as no such thing." Shadows wash over him. Caressing his jaw, his skin. Like a bad tide, lapping across his features. Making his angles that much more sharper as he pulls himself up into a semi-standing position. "Wait until we get off and then we'll try to it out, hmn?"
The wheels bounce and scrape against the iron rails below, making the noise echo in the long stretch of tunnel. As lights pass and flicker, Greed seems to dart in an out of shadow. As if there one minute and gone the next, but he doesn't move. And that ever-present grin gives him away, despite the physical tug-of-war between light and dark. Too bright are those teeth, too jagged.
When the train finally whips out of the tunnel, he's inches closer. Elbow shoved into a curve of leather. He's speaking softer, keeping a secret between him and his. "Home, well. Sort of."
The engine chugs and fields open up again. It's a bit different than last time. There's no military presence, not as much anyway, and there's machinery where there used to be plows. In the last few years, it seemed Amestris' new Fuhrer had done some landscaping of his own.
Greed grimaces and rattles his near-empty glass. He sighs, a bit dramatic, before casually pulling the collar of his vest up and over her neck.
"Just sit tight for now, all right? Don't want to draw any unwanted attention. Not exactly sure what we're dealing with yet." The Sin glances over his shoulder briefly. To the loosely-fitted door separating their cart and the next. He waves his fingers gently, letting them feather out across the glass before he claps over and snatches the knob. Lined up as his hip, Greed easily plants his back against the frame work and eases it shut with the audible clack of a lock.
"The world ending." The words come without even needing another thought, scowling just a little at him. "Is it possible for you to not be kind of creepy when you do that? Snake-shark-man." The whole latter half comes out as a quiet grumble, but the very tone suggests it's the kind of words you say in place of going into a pure panic.
She pulls the vest up a little more, looking outside of the window and recognizing absolutely nothing about it. "...Greed, what do you mean, home? Your home?? What is your home?" Her eyes go back to him, trying to make any sense out of this.
Excuse her while she holds onto the vest with tight fingers, all of her strength behind it, white knuckled, because it's the only thing she feels like she actually hang onto at the moment. In a heartbeat, in a roar, she has lost everything and she doesn't even know it.
Greed trolls down the alleyway of empty seats and his fingers graze each one abandoned. He leaves his glass behind - hitches it into a rounded notch made for the same purpose, before shoving both hands into his pockets. What she says is heavy, what she means is worse. The world ending -
The Sin's eyes fall heavy and his smile is forced closed. A tight line as eyebrows knit just above his shades. "Dublith. Though, I can't really tell you how much is still there and how much has changed - I've been dead for at least two years, if what the papers say is true."
Which isn't so much of a shocker as it is a bold-faced smack of reality. Greed tightens up against himself as he passes her by: he doesn't want to address the elephant in the room, but there's still another hour before they make a stop. And even then, there's other things to consider.
Like how, why, and just what sort of game Zelien's pulled this time.
One eye peels open from behind his shades. A sliver of purple masked out in opaque-black. Another flicker of light catches them, pulls black to stark-silver, and Greed whistles through his teeth. "Snake-shark-man? I already told you before, I'm a homunculus. What you're implying is something else entirely and I'm sure they wouldn't take too kindly to the name-calling. It's a little rude." The Sin lets his words fall as a finger waggles back and forth. It's easier this way. Chiding when there should be comfort. When he should be sitting her down, telling it to her straight.
He's just not entirely sure that's what he wants.
So he switches the gears; snatches a leaflet from a flip-note in the back and peels it open. "And most here? Well, they've seen a bit, but don't go dropping our little secret. Might not be the best idea."
"Dublith." A name that sounds kind of Irish but really she has no idea what or where it is. This whole train looks old but kind of posh, but at least it's just her and Greed.
His warning doesn't go over her head though. This is the kind of place where she shouldn't let people know what she is. She doubts people are called NEXTs here, as no one other than people from her world seem to know the term, but whatever they call that kind of person here, they are NEXTs in secret.
Remember that. This isn't like Zelien where it was okay to let some people know. "I won't tell anyone," she promises. Never mind that her name doesn't sound like she's from Amestris at all but from Xing.
"Dublith," he repeats as he thumbs through the pamphlet. It confirms his suspicions: the announcement of a new Fuhrer, the brief military doctrine highlighting the key points of The Promised Day. "The threat has been eliminated, but there's still much to do." Of course, the government had left out the fine details. About doors and the Truth. Of the former figure head's actual standing and there was nothing at all about the one who started it all:
The Dwarf in the Flask.
So Greed snaps it closed. He doesn't need to know anymore.
"Eh, hope he's still around. Little tricky here, with foreigners." Not that he didn't have a connection or two to choose from. He's just hoping that prior transgressions won't be a problem. But even if they are, he knows just how to push and prod until he gets what he wants.
And more often than not, he finds that most are willing to oblige.
Greed tosses the pamphlet back over his shoulder, letting it fall splayed-open on the floor. The binding stretches and the papers spread out like feathers off the plume of a rather eccentric bird. "Good - wouldn't want you mixing up in all that business. They may have changed, but the military's just that."
They're the military. They're the government. And Greed remembers just how ruthless the good ol'Colonel can be.
So he mindlessly places an open hand on top of Kaede's head. Gives it a ruffle before slipping away again. He takes a glance at the next cart, prying the door open again. Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait too long for another one of the workers to pass by.
The Sin dips and coils in the mouth of the frame. Sways his hips to the side and it's a fabulous show to put on his best good-graces. "Wouldn't happen to have a few left overs from the dinner rush, would you? I got a young one in the back and she hasn't been this way before." The stretch of Greed's shoulders hides most of the woman's face, but bright-green eyes peer over. As if trying to catch a little glance, though it's quick. Easily smeared away as the Sin rocks to the side and shuts off the view.
He smiles then. Charming and deadly, coy and crass. "She's a little shy, lovely," Greed voice purrs. It's hard to hide it and he really doesn't make the effort. Had he been alone, he probably would have coaxed the attendant to the back. Shot the breeze, learned her name, and find out if she was interested. But things being as they were, and with a small package in tow, the Sin shelves the idea for now. "I'm sure there's some Dublith Coddle somewhere here, right?"
"Ah - ," the woman speaks, a little off guard. She's looking at his jaws, at his sunglasses. For a moment, she seems taken back. A deer in the metaphorical headlights and it's the big-bad-wolf behind the wheel.
She collects herself respectively. Smiles and nods. "I'm sure there's a bit left. Just one?"
"Just one - and a scotch," Greed illustrates, his fingers rising off the wood frame. "On the rocks."
The woman leaves, closing the door behind her with a softer click than Greed had given it prior. The homunculus scratches at the back of his neck, then. Frowning with the opportunity lost, but it's with mild humor that his face contorts.
Ah, well.
"I hope you're up to a little bit of a walk. It's not that far, but we're a little ways from the station."
Color Kaede completely confused. Half of what Greed says just now doesn't make sense and before she can even question him, giving him quite a look, he gets up and is talking to someone. So, she sneaks up and grabs the pamphlet he tossed, frowning as she reads. So, like, this place is run by the military? That sounds sort of terrifying really. Are they the enemy or do people want this?
It's more than most eleven year olds know what to deal with when it comes to politics. Still, she hears him asking about dinner and her stomach grumbles, agreeing with his idea. Huh, he doesn't have to eat? Or just doesn't want to?
So when he comes back, she gives him a look. "I can talk to people you know. In two different languages." Not particularly realizing that the tongue of her family would match with the origin of her name in this world. "What do you mean, do I mind walking? From a station?"
Greed straightens his spine, shoving hands into pockets and thumbs through his belt loops. Kids: they're nothing but trouble.
"Didn't doubt you could, but I don't think it'll do you much good here. Unless you've picked up some Ishvalan or Xingese that I'm not aware of." Both of which, he couldn't make heads or tails of himself. Ling had given a message once - scribbled it on a length of fabric for his fine-second-in-command. Asked it to be delivered. Greed had stared at it just as blankly. Blinking a few times before he shrugged and did as he was asked.
In all the time he spent with the young prince, the Avaricious just didn't find it crucial to learn the language. Or any other, for that matter.
So he just simply didn't bother.
The Sin reclines his head back to watch the ceiling. It's a little much - having her with him, returning home. He should be dead - should be long gone with not a trace to remember. Him and his might have been built stronger than the mortal lot, but they left behind nothing to mourn. Nothing to show they had even existed at all. To anyone normal, it may have been a bit of a wake up call. Or a means to humble.
Greed only smiles.
"A train station - I thought you would have picked up on that. You're not that dense." The homunculus tilts his head to the side, showing off a bit of a sneer with one eye closed. His sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose, giving his wide-eyed glance a look-see. Under the constant flicker-flutter and buzz of the lights above, his slit-pupils pulsate. Filtering in the light, shutting out the dark. He's a monster, but at least he's proud of it.
Two fingers hitch to the rounds of his shades to right them and Greed claps his heel back. "It's my place - or it was. Not sure how it'll look now, but it's the best we've got - " His voice filters off, turning to a soft vibration when the door opens again. It's a different teller this time - male, late twenties. In one hand is a medium-sized plate and cover and in the other a half-emptied bottle of scotch with a glass half full of ice.
"On the house," the man says, slowly peering up to get a glance. Almost like someone on the scene of an accident - he just can't look away. "-I know ... how hard it is to be a Dad these days."
Which makes the Sin scoff. Eyebrows raising, jaw slung open. He's stuck there for a moment before a laugh takes him. Grabbing by the shoulders, the stomach, and Greed buckles over with a thunderous howl. "You've got it all wrong friend, but I won't deny the offer."
Before the waiter can even argue or take-back the one-time-deal, Greed's got the cache in his hand. The dinner-plate and matching-silver-cover is hoisted high above his head and the scotch and glass settle against the outer round of his thigh. "Thanks pal."
He practically ushers the other out. With his straight-still stance, with teeth that seem to snip and snatch the air when he speaks. And once the helpful-hand is gone, Greed toes the door shut.
"We'll be there in about half an hour," the Sin says and turns back to Kaede. He tosses the meal onto a nearby seat rather haphazardly as he takes up the spot currently occupied by his emptied glass. Two heels are thrown up on the backside of the chair in front and Greed spins the newly-acquired bottle open.
"Anata wa honto no jaku koto ga dekimasu," Kaede snaps back at Greed, shocked at how he talks to the man who was just trying to be nice. You can be a real jerk. Not knowing how the languages match between the two worlds, things are rare a coincidence, she still grabs the tray and pops the cover off, eyeing the food beneath.
It isn't familiar but it smells okay, so she snags the fork and digs in. This has to be another Rift, right? Dad and Barnaby and Ivan and everyone else is somewhere nearby, right? Yes. Has to be. So she isn't panicking (yet) nearly as much as she might have if she knew the truth.
"He was just trying to be nice, you know." Okay the food is definitely different. She eyes it a little harder, but it's edible and even though she might be pickier elsewhere, she deals with it for now.
"Ah-?" Greed lifts his head from his drink. The language she speaks is familiar, but different. Something about it a bit more smooth, a bit more poised. Not as rugged or as sharp as Ling and his bodyguards had used, but indiscernible nonetheless. But he raises his hands above his head, gives her the playful gesture of a surrender. Whatever she said, it can't be good, and from the tone of it, sounds like he may have hit a nerve or two.
"Oi, oi, oi - " The Sin starts, his eyes rolling behind his shades. For a second or two, there's a put-off look on his face. As if he's slighted by her correction, by her statement. "-wasn't anything personal, y'know. I'm just not that good of a guy."
But he slides his feet away as he watches her. She's hungry: it's a good sign. That there's still some light at the end of the proverbial tunnel and as the train takes a turn, Greed clips his drink by the rim. "Not that bad, right? Used to be a favorite. Least, around the 'Nest."
The Sin takes another drag from his scotch, slipping his tongue over ice before there's a crunch, a split and shards tumble down his gullet. He sets the glass down afterward, shooting a heel up to cradle against the opposing knee.
"Feeling a little better?" Greed says, as he slouches forward and turns his head back to her. He knows she isn't - there's too many missing pieces of the equation for her to be remotely all right. But, it's a start.
At least her looks, her language, her name will give her a reason to pass as not knowing anything about this place fairly well. All they would have to do is come up with a cover for the rest of it. However, none of that is in Kaede's mind as she eats; she's more focused on how she can find her family and friends. They have to be here, she's sure of it. Every time the Rifts happen, they're terrifying things, just like this one had been.
Too bad it hadn't been a Rift at all.
"The Nest?" Kaede questions after swallowing a mouthful. "And... I guess so, but Dad and everyone else have to be worried. I hope we can find everyone at this station you're saying is coming up." Oh, how little they both know for the moment.
She wriggles a bit to get his vest off of her, offering it back for now. "...how long has it been since you were here, then?"
It wasn't a Rift; not even close to it. There had been no sinking feeling in his stomach, not buzzing in his skull. Just the choking sensation: the grip of an undertow and it had been like drowning over and over again. Swimming in a sea of black, hoping that the surface was just around the bend.
Until he woke up, body splayed, in the cart of a train.
Greed's frown tightens when she starts talking. She's human: she's different. The Sin doesn't understand family, not in the way she does. But that's not entirely right either, is it? "They're the only part of you that you chose!"
A thumb touches the glass and Greed picks himself up and out of his seat. He doesn't like this: this feeling clawing at his skull. Then she's asking something again and he tilts himself back on his heels. Spinning with the intricacy of a dancer until the point of his boot claps him still. He 'tsks' with his tongue and recoils into his shoulders.
"If what the say is true, it's been a while. It was 1912 the last time I was in Dublith and from there? Well - " There's a story, but it doesn't need to be told. Not now, not to her. It just isn't worth the trouble and Greed suddenly falls into a crouch. Knees splayed out and he jerks a thumb and forefinger back at her. "Doesn't matter though, right? We're here, at any rate."
Humans are frail. Fragile and easily breakable. A gunshot can stop them dead, but so can bad news. Emotional and unpredictable: Greed's not sure which direction she's going or where it'll take her. But lying's just not in the cards and he sits his elbows on his thighs.
He settles on a delay instead. "Like I said before: there's no such thing as no such thing. Might as well give it a shot, right?" As if to save him from the awkward situation, the train's comm crackles to life. Not with electronics or anything remotely advanced. But through the literal pipe-line and a voice echos inside carbon and copper: "Fifteen minutes until we enter Dublith Station. Please have all luggage readied for departure. I repeat: fifteen minutes until docking with Dublith. Please make sure to take all belongings with you. This train will making it's last stop and switching to a South-bound rail upon departure. Thank you."
Greed rocks his head to the side, fanning his hands over his knees. "Better finish up, kid."
But she has chosen her family, along with the one she was born with. Barnaby and Ivan aren't related to her at all, but they had become family to her. Another father, in a sense, and a brother. And in another sense, she had to chose her own father as well. When he had tried to reach out to her, after he had nearly ripped their relationship apart, she had to chose whether or not to let him back into her life.
Then Greed drops an absolute bombshell, making Kaede's eyes go wide, the fork falling from her hand to clank against the plate as she stares up at him. "...W-What? Did you just say 1912!?" Her voice goes up to a shriek for a moment in her utter shock. "No way! No way! It's almost 1980 back home!"
Never mind that the years are so vastly different between their two worlds that Greed might have said 'the stoneage' comparitively. 1912 Sternbild is still more advanced than 2014 for us.
The announcement over the train's PA system makes her groan, brushing hair behind her ears. She's in another world and has gone back in time and she has no idea where her family is. NOW the panic is starting to settle in.
Greed's about to reach out and touch her, but he remembers just what sort of reaction that entails and he coils his fingers back to his palm. Her loud eruption has him standing, miming that of a meerkat out of its hole. Staring over his shoulder, watching to see if any caught wind of what she had to say. Thankfully, the door's secured shut and it's still just him, her, and the atom-bomb dropped.
The Sin presses a pinkie into his ear, his frown more like a dog that accidentally chewed up the corner of an expensive couch. He should have eased her in, but dodging the truth just wasn't in the cards. "It's 1918, if that helps any."
It doesn't.
The train starts to slow under them. Shifting to another set of tracks to send them straight into the mouth of town. His eyebrows knit and furrow - short cut and he sways his wrist to the air. "I guess it's fair to say it isn't like any other Rift then, is it."
He doesn't like this. Whatever the feeling is. Sinking and churning in his gut, going bad in the acid there. The homunculus grinds his teeth briefly before slipping to the side of the car. The latch at the exit door's easy enough to pick and he throws it open with a gentle click before motioning her forward. "C'mon. We'll get off before anyone even notices we were here."
Greed pries the door open with a shudder and the wind whips into the cabin. Tossing the leaflets of the pamphlet as if they were only dust on the ground. In the lash, he holds himself at the cusp of the railing and says one thing that's both surprising in his ears and sour in his mouth:
"What- What are you doing?!" Kaede shrieks, arm up to protect her face as now the door is open and he CAN'T BE suggesting what she thinks he is! Her eyes stare at him wide, grabbing her pack and moving towards him. "We're coming up to a station soon, why wouldn't we get off there!?"
He is insane! He can't seriously be- he's going to JUMP? Whoa- Wait-
The spikes of his hair shake as the wind takes them. Sliding to and from the inky black and Greed puts his head to the whip-lash. There's smells here he's familiar with; the burning of coal on the outskirts of town, diesel in the engines just at the cusp. The flavors of shops closing down for the evening, leaving their overnight bakes to rise in packed ovens. These are all familiar and maybe slightly comforting, given the circumstances.
But he's not a creature to sit around and admire the beauty of things.
Instead, he slips over, wedging himself between the edge of the door and the bolt itself. Half-way inside the cart and teetering on the balance of falling straight out onto the rolling hillside below. Greed sneers then, dastardly with the flare of the 'Pit shining through each tooth.
She is quick. "We," Greed says, as he flips an index to the sky and circles it. "-figured that was kind of implied."
She's got her things, has her nap-sack, and Greed knows she'll have the 'Shield as soon as he grabs her. So he does - by the wrist, ensnaring his thumb and index-finger around her bones like that of a make-shift hand-cuff. He jerks a little more lightly though, as to not send her head-over-tiny-heels off the train cart, and gestures to the open spot on his back.
"Get on. Unless you'd rather stay here." The air makes his sunglasses quake and takes his voice out and away with a Doppler's effect. He can hear it in his ears, the way it's hard to make out just exactly what he's saying. But he hopes actions speak louder than words and as the iron-clad wheels below screech and pump, Greed dips a bit lower to give her some leverage at his shoulders.
"Oh, my god." Kaede breathes out, stumbling a bit with his jerk, as she realizes just what he wants to do and with her involved. This is the worst idea and this is going to get them killed! She knows he's not human, as he's stated several times, but to jump off of a moving train!?
With a heavy swallow, looking back into the empty car, she longs for the Hundred Power so she could make this hop not only easily but more safely. Why am I even thinking about doing this...?! Maybe because he has her wrist in a tight grip that suggests he isn't about to let go.
Before she can psych herself out anymore, she takes a jump and hops up onto Greed's back, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, and hands on for dear life there. "If I get hurt I am going to find a way to hurt you, Shield or not!" she threatens into his ear, shouting over the wind.
The train chugs along, scraping against copper-steel track with a deafening holler of a whistle from the front. Greed peers at it once; a very brief notion as he shoves his head out to the whip-lashing wind. They're moving pretty fast, the ground under them just a blur in the near-pitch black of it. A few lights ignite it every so often; from the sparks on the line below, to the gas-lights dotting the rail-line.
Greed circles his arms around her legs, holds her still, and jumps.
At first, it's like silence. As he shoves a heel out and angles it down. The noise happens afterward; as rocks scream and jump under the dig of his boot. He skids for a good few seconds, carving out his own scar in the earth as his other ankle flicks out to make for the breaks. Sliding it to the side, as if he knows what this line of recklessness holds for him. The curved-tip of his boot springs up, slicing the wind as his thighs spread and tense.
Eventually, after dirt and gravel paves out to dust and grass, Greed finally slows down. The train they had been on is far ahead of them, groaning and chiming as it disappears around a bend. The Sin pops up laughing a bit to himself as he sees it pass around the curb.
Kaede has literally no idea because she is holding onto Greed with every bit of strength in her tiny body, legs and arms wrapped around him in a death grip. Her eyes are tightly closed and buried in against his shoulder. And she's not letting go.
In fact, all he'll get is a little whimper of sound and if he looks down, he'll see that the Shield is up, and covering any available inch of skin.
She's terrified, and her power is activating for her regardless of how she feels about it.
He starts in, shoving his thighs apart as he gingerly tries to pry her off. She's holding on for dear life and each inch of her is carbon-cold and smooth. Greed tests his own sharpened points and they flutter against the outer-shell. Ping, goes one. Clack, goes another.
One eye's shut lazily, the other only hanging up with the thread of a lid. He's good at the off-put expression and he isn't really concerned. But if they're going to get anywhere without a curious glance or two, she's going to have to at least try.
"Tch, jeez. You are more trouble than you're worth." But instead of forcing it, Greed hikes her up a bit further. He doubts he'll get a lot more out until they're on better footing. Or at least until they're as far away from the tracks as they can get. "You still with me?" The Sin says as he sags his body over to make up for the extra weight. It doesn't really bother him much and he's carried a bigger load before.
Ground shifts under his footing and he's pushing through the dark. Climbing up the side of a shallow hill. Dublith isn't that far and he supposes he owes her at least this favor.
"I hate you right now," Kaede whispers, very slowly lifting her head from his shoulder. The blue glow dies as she stops activating the Shield on instinct, letting out the breath she had been holding. "I can't believe we're alive. I can't believe we jumped off a moving train. Ohmygod."
She clings to him like a burr as he walks, looking around in the darkness. "Why did we get off the train anyway?!"
He taps her arm a couple of times, as if making his point very clear. "A little too risky, what with the show you just put on." His nail's still shivered to a point, but it recedes as soon as she drops her guard again and gains some composure.
Some, being the key word.
"That and I'm not sure how far the boys in the blue have gotten since last time."
That's all he says on the matter though. She doesn't seem to be letting go and that's fine. Greed makes easy over a few shaky rocks, prying himself up the hill with little effort. The town's just in sight and it's simple. Made of cobblestone, brick, and wood. Hardly anything that would be impressive, considering where she's from.
He does take a moment, though. To pause at the edge as his head rocks back. It's been a long time since he was last in Dublith. "Just do me a favor and try to hold back, hmn? At least until we get there."
"I'm sorry, okay?" Kaede lifts her head and eyes the town warily, but she has no idea where they are, where everyone else is, and she just had a huge scare. Her whole world feels off-kilter right now, leaving her to figure out how to get her feet back under her. "I'm not really good at controlling it when I get scared. It just kind of happens!"
Still, she does murmur a second, "I'm sorry," that sounds more heart felt than the original. "So will the military, that's the blue guys right?, try to hurt me?"
"What are you apologizing for?" Greed says as he speaks beyond the dip of his shoulder. He keeps his grip tight, fingers and arms nestled under legs that could easily be snapped in two if he were any other kind of monster. Thankfully, he wasn't and she's as safe as she can be for the moment.
"No, but I imagine a lot has changed since I was last around." The city opens up as they draw near; houses become clearer, the ground below them far more stable. Most of the windows have gone dark at this hour, though some still linger with a candle or two. Still dripping wax, waning with the early-onset of morning.
Greed pulls away from them though. Exchanging the rich orange-yellow for deep blues. For shadowy purples that chase the silvery-touch of moonlight. He takes a sharp left, veering a corner carved out of a rather shallow alleyway. It's a maze - of back ends of houses, of shops closed up and boarded shut. And the more they press in, the more gloom the surroundings become.
It's clear that the Sin's familiar to the territory, but it's not exactly a place a child like her should wander. At least, not alone.
But this time, little Red Riding Hood's got the wolf in her back pocket. She only needed to say the word.
Kaede goes silent as she looks around the completely unfamiliar town in the dark, almost holding her breath. In the late hour, everything is silent - more silent than a city girl like her is used to. There should be the hum of electricity and the honk of horns and a television's hiss drifting on the wind, but instead, there's nothing. It makes her hold on a little tighter, pressed in close to Greed's back as she tries to find anything familiar.
But there's nothing.
"...where are we going?" she whispers softly, as if afraid her voice will disturb the late-night silence. Greed clearly seems to have something in mind, but if he's right and he's been gone for all that time, where could he know to go?
"Where are we going?" It's a heavy question and one that Greed doesn't answer. Not at first, anyway. He hasn't been back to Dublith in quite some time. Not since the bullets ripped and the soldiers marched through the front doors with the bust of the century. It's here that it all started - that the world as he knew it turned topsy-turvy, shoving him head deep into a struggle that he had tried to stay out of for as long as he could.
It's here that he lost it all.
But he doesn't tell her that - she doesn't need to know. It isn't her place, isn't her history, and it sure as hell isn't going to help the current situation. Instead he just says: "My place."
There's more people when the alleyway opens up and the maw births a bit more life. Some doors still hanging open with drunken whispers. A few people perk up when he rounds the corner, but they don't move to ask. Maybe an eyebrow raised there, a glance here. But most of them look just as haggard as Kaede must feel - deep circles round the eyes, lips cracked and split where time hadn't been too kind. They watch with a glazed-over sort of look, as if the world could pass them by and they could care less.
Greed sags when they get to the mid-way point. When a few of the overhanging bulbs flicker, as if they hadn't seen some use. It's here, that the left-over dregs dwindle again and there's good reason. There's an opening to to left, a tunnel. Boards dot the rounded frame, giving a look of gnarled-wooden teeth in the dark. A monster of sorts, one the imagination could play tricks with ten-fold.
But above is something familiar. Something she should recognize fairly quickly. It's letters are a bit faded, the sign a bit more cracked than it had been five years ago. It groans and creeks, swaying just slightly with a small gust.
Kaede squints in the darkness, frowning, as she lifts her chin from Greed's shoulder and studies where she's face. It takes her a moment, after all she had only been there once, before she realizes what she's looking at. It looks similar to the place Greed had taken over in Zelien. The Devil's Nest. What had given her the heebee jeebees the first time she read it.
Greed had been replicating his home in this world!
"...no one's lived here in all that time?" she whispers, looking around. This doesn't look like the kind of place that frequented a lot of traffic by any means, but right now, it seems better to be inside where it seems safer than out here, waiting for some sort of military to come capture her because she can't control her power.
Greed grabs one of the boards nailing the entrance shut. A few yanks gets it out, spitting nails to the ground as he does so. "Doesn't look like it. At least, not permanently."
Another board comes loose easily enough with the help of a claw or two. Greed scratches at the side, willing it out before he grips the upper-bend of the entrance. The stairs leading down below are covered in debris; old newspapers, a few cups here and there.
And of course, the bullet casings. Those hadn't been disturbed.
Greed shuffles inside, slipping down the small stairwell. There's more evidence to what really transpired here all those years ago. The claw-marks brisking and bouncing down the walls; like a language all on their own. He ignores them. Though unlike their small bout on the train, the Sin's face looks a tad more grim.
"Hurry up - before anyone notices, hmn? Not really interested in the company."
At the bottom, a ladder hangs loosely. It's screws have seen better days and the metal making up the entirety of it's littered in rust marks. Making patch-work on the surface and some of the outer-casing is frayed back. Like paper peeling away. Greed takes hold of a rung, hoisting himself up. A few shakes test its integrity and it's fine by his account.
"Uh, right." Kaede, however, even if the heavier Greed is on it currently, doesn't entirely trust that ladder. She makes a bit of a face before she spots the first set of claw marks, her brows shooting up at that. This place is totally creepy... she murmurs in her own mind, feeling highly dubious about the whole situation.
Still, with no where else to go, no one else to turn to, she makes even more of a face as she wraps her hand around the bar. Ew. She follows after him though, wishing she felt better about any of this that he was taking her into. What if someone's hidden inside or something!?
Up the rungs is a hatch and Greed makes easy shoving it aside. A cloud of dust follows when the wood crashes with the opposing floor above and the Sin climbs up. It's darker inside and the dim light from the street-corner makes monsters out of the shadows. Casting the entire place in an eerie blue more suited for someone's vacant sense of a nightmare.
Greed's heels knock hollow as he slithers inside and a few bullet casings roll away from his feet. Half the bar's torn up; splintered and brittle with cob-webs drawings lines across it. Above them, a lamp sways in a light breeze coming from a window. But other than that? It's quiet. Dead like a graveyard and Greed doesn't make a sound.
It's been a long time.
He stops just outside the hatch, reaching his hand inside to help her. Hopefully, they can skip the twenty questions for now. This isn't exactly where he wanted to bring her, but with little options, it seems the best choice.
When Kaede takes the hang and gets hauled up the last few rungs, she ends up just kind of standing and looking around the place with a mix of confusion, disgust, and fear. What happened here? It looks like this place had been broken apart from the inside and there is a terrible silence that fills it. Why are they here? Why not someplace with light and life?
"..." It's clear from her changing expression she wants to say something, but really, she doesn't know what. There's still a state of numbness that comes from too many shocks, one after another, in the last hour.
She wants to go home. She wants her dad and Barnaby and Ivan.
She's too quiet and it makes him a bit bitter. Not because of her, but because of what it all means. The loss of having, the act of stealing. It's in every jagged crack of wood, every broken window. Glass that dots the floor in sharp shards and each one tells a story. This place has seen its hardships and it seems like it wasn't at all intended.
Greed runs his fingers across the banister. It's familiar and broken. And like a toy found on the side of the road, it births a sense of nostalgia. A gut-twisting sort of expression that makes the insides tumble. Greed doesn't know it, doesn't really get it. But oh, does he feel it.
"It was a long time ago," he says flippantly. As he flings out his hand and offers her a shrug from the back. It doesn't matter anymore. Not when she's been dragged hallway to the pit and back with little more to spare. She's missing what makes her her. All safety blankets ripped right off and it's just the bitter cold to keep her company.
"Besides, the rumors would be enough to keep anyone out." The Sin turns over to look at her. "Oi, oi, oi.."
Kaede looks defeated. Damaged and broken with her choked-still silence. Greed swipes his hands back to his pockets as he walks towards her. Hunched over, bringing his shoulders raising. The red notches on his body stretch when his muscles tense. "It isn't all that bad, you know."
"I... I want my dad," Kaede whispers, curling her arms around herself. She's somewhere she doesn't know, people who would want to hurt her out there, still thinking this is something from COMPASS. She looks back and up at Greed, scared and uncertain. "What do we do? Now we're here, but what do we do?"
She looks around the broken room and fights hard not to let any tears fall. She's been through a lot in her life, but this is pushing her. "...I don't know what to do except find him and the others when we can."
"We stay here for now and work it out. It's not like we'll be leaving anytime soon." The 'Void travels tend to last a few days, at best. At worse, it's longer. And even more, Greed highly doubts it's the same kind of thing. The campus and everything in it had been swallowed up as soon as Zelien started breaking apart at the seams. While it isn't impossible and nothing is, the cards seem to point in the direction of unlikely.
It's hardly the kind of news that's easy to break.
But Greed can see it in her eyes; humans are easier to read. Plain, simple: emotion practically exposed with each tear she holds back; she knows. Somewhere deep down that this isn't at all right, that something's terribly wrong. So he places a hand on the top of her head, hitching his fingers in slightly to graze a scalp. "Remember what I told you before - there's no such thing as no such thing. More than likely, they're around. Somewhere."
Where being the opportune word of the evening. They could be anywhere, anytime. The fact that the two of them even made it to the same place is against the odds. But sometimes, fate has a funny way of playing to his favor.
"No point in it now, so what'll it be? Going to stay here, or are you going to try to do this on your own? You don't know this place very well and there's certain things you should know," the Sin hums, slowly slipping his fingertips from the nest of her hair. "-it's your choice. Whatever you want."
But he does crouch down to meet her at eye level. He's not a comfort - he knows that too well. He can't give her the same solace a parent can and he certainly just isn't the sort. But -
- but it isn't like he hasn't had to break people out of their shells before. "Why don't you stay and work for me? At least, until this all gets settled out. Then you can decide what you really want to do."
"Work... Work for you?!" Her voice cracks before she lets out a sob, one she doesn't want to let out. She turns away from Greed, hugging herself to contain anything else from escaping. She's getting more frightened as time goes on, but she has no where else to go. She doesn't know where she is and what if he's right, that there's people who would hurt her for what she is? But she doesn't have to tell them...
But Greed hasn't hurt her in the past, and does seem like he's trying to help now. She can't be mad at him or scared of him, just the situation. "...will you help me find them if I stay here?" She looks back at him, wetness in her eyes but she's stubbornly not letting them fall, trying to be strong. The others have to be out there, somewhere.
Dipped low, Greed circles around her. So that he can meet her face to face; his lips are contorted, twisting as she braces around herself for comfort. He can never really understand how she feels - what it's like to feel that way. But he can take a gander.
So he slips a hooked-knuckle under her chin. Forcing her to look up at him as a slight smile twists up his face. Even like this, the notion comes off a bit smarmy. It can't really be helped: what he is, what kind of creature he's made to be. But despite the crookedness of his nature, Greed crouches down to meet her.
"I'll try, but I can't promise you anything, kid. It's not like this is normal." Greed releases his finger from her chin and lets his hands sink between his splayed-knees. "But nothing's impossible, right?"
His teeth glint when a stray light above decides to make its presence known. With a shivering-flicker, forcing the electric current through.
The touch under her chin is unexpected, startling her into looking right into Greed's eyes. It's something like her family would do when she's crying or sad, and it's such a familiar gesture that it actually brings some unintentional comfort. She swallows hard, trying to make sure she doesn't cry even if she's afraid of the situation, but she's trying so hard.
"Thank you," she says quietly. If he'll try, since he knows this place, then maybe they stand a chance. "We'll find them if-" she stops sharply when suddenly a bulb comes on above, making her head jerk as she looks up, confused. Why would the light come on in an abandoned place? Does someone know they're here?
Greed waves his hand in front of her face as soon as she jerks in the direction of the light. "Don't worry about it - it's still trying to figure out whether or not it'll work."
The Sin presses his palms into his thighs as he moves to stand. It's true - the 'Nest practically lives as a haunting now. The lights flickering in and out, the slow groans from down below. It's the final resting place for some and a rumor for others. Greed's face lights up when the bulb pulses again; dimming in and out before going dark again.
"C'mon - there are rooms upstairs. Just don't mind some of the stuff that's still there, yeah?" He side-winds her. Jerking around with the buck of a hip, a pull of the torso. It's dodging the obvious questions there, instead pointing to her own predicament. He isn't too keen on opening up that can of worms and it's better than she doesn't know anyway.
"I'll see if anyone's heard anything. Not sure if they're still around, but Dublith's never been shy on secrets."
"Ah, right." A bit disoriented by his constant changing, Kaede lets him lead her upstairs. She can't help but be jumpy, looking around at every creak and groan of the old place. Everything has her on edge right now. This whole place seems like a haunted house; the thought doesn't make it better. Still, she can tell that people had once lived here and tries to imagine it before it became abandoned.
"...tell me about this place when it was still a bar?" She asks. Rather hear him or herself talking than the shudders of wood talking.
He'll have to deal with a little girl holding his hand, though.
Greed's face falls uncharacteristically; when she asks, "...tell me about this place-?" His eyes narrow behind his shades and he slowly edges his fingers open to let her palm sit inside his own. The skin there is rough; calloused when it needs to be and smooth where it shouldn't. He grits his teeth and the bones in his spine go stiff.
What it used to be.
"Eh - not really a story someone like you should hear," the Sin says as he shows her up the stairs. "-but I guess there's no use hiding it."
The feeling is something he's felt only once before. A twinge; like a vice snaring him from the inside. Tightening around his core and begging for a payout: for revenge, though he'll never get it. "They were mine."
Up the stairs is a hallway. Just as gloomy and dank as the rest. Windows had been left open and now they, too, are in pieces. Letting the torn drapes waft as the wind shifted. It's cooler on the second floor; a chill catching through the floorboards.
"Ran into a little bit of trouble. I guess you could say I never really got along with the rest of them." The six others. Sins incarnate with legs to walk, with voices to speak. He was the oddity out of them all; separate from the others and this had been his would-be kingdom. Made in wood, carved in liquor.
In all the things he really wanted.
But that's old history. Older now that things have come and gone. And he's the only one left.
"...The rest of who?" There's an odd trust in Greed, even if right now everything is a mess and she's honestly afraid. So she stays close to him, her hand feeling very small in his, but she can feel the callouses against the smoothness of her hand.
"Why would that affect your bar?" She jumps a little as a bit of cloth moves, and hisses a little. "Stop that! We're not here to be scared!"
From the street outside, there are whispers in the dark. Barely audible, but enough of a chit-chat to break the silence. Greed clips up to the upper hallway, dodging any belongings that could be in his path. There's a sword sheathed and propped up against the wall, a hammer next to that. "We never saw eye to eye. You could say I left the rest of them back in Central a long time ago."
Greed slips a thumb into his belt loop and lets this fingers spread across the outer edge of his thigh. She wants a story, but it's not the type she's really looking for. "I've been doing this for about two-hundred years remember? Well, it wasn't always like this."
There's a door at the edge of the hallway. Darker than the rest with a faint-line of silvery blue coming from the bottom edge. Greed knocks it with his elbow and it groans open. Slowly swinging wide to a bedroom. It may not be as expected: a bed that's older with stains to match. A dresser that's practically alight with cobwebs.
"I told you before - I'm not exactly a good guy, kid."
Can you see this face? This is a face of do not want. She stares at the dresser certain that a million spiders will attack her from it, and sleeping in that kind of bed does not sit well with her. A shiver passes through her and she longs for a proper bed.
"There's other- um- Homunculi?" Guessing on the plural because Homunculuses sounds stupid. "How many? ...and two hundred years..." The last bit being murmured. She can't imagine the concept of living that long.
Greed slithers on in, passing by each piece of furniture as if it's familiar. And it is; the dresser, the floor. The walls that are slightly stained to the mute-color of coffee. He touches floorboard of a bedpost, gliding his fingers across it with a minimal hum.
"There are seven deadly sins, kid. And each one he cast off." For a moment, his tone turns dangerous. Vile in his throat when he says him. But with his back to Kaede, the snarl's missed. "There are seven in total, but I'm not like the rest."
Kaede watches him, standing in the doorway with her arms wrapping around herself as soon as he moves away. She listens in silence, trying to remember. Seven deadly sins... she's heard of it, in a vague sense, but it never really mattered to her world as a teenager.
"You're not like the rest because you're not gone. You survived and they didn't." She could understand the context of 'gone' in this sense, her chin coming up a little. "That means you're better than them." She still had his power, and even subtly, it still effects her in a sense.
His fingers wrap around a drawer to the dresser, pulling it wide open with the spindle-snap of cobwebs. The brass-silver handle knocks back when he drops it and the tips of his fingers are coated. Dusty with the remains.
Greed brushes them across his thigh before snatching a bottle inside. "But it looks like things have changed a bit."
The glass he removes is old. Older than any of the others smashed below. With a rope wrap cinching the neck piece and Greed lowers his head. His teeth find the thick cork bottled at the top and he yanks his neck to pop it open. Before spitting the remnants into a palm just waiting at his side. "I should be with the rest of them. But then again - "
He doesn't need to say it: she already knows.
There's no such thing as no such thing. And his existence here just proved the fact.
"Yet you're here. You're not dead. That's the important part. So you do the best you can with what you've got." She wrinkles her nose at the bottle, pointing at it with a bit of distaste. "Instead of drinking your life away. That stuff isn't good for you, you know."
She walks over to the bed and pokes it, making a face at the dust that comes off of it. "Greed, I can't sleep on this! Seriously, this is disgusting."
He suddenly jerks forward. Snapping from the hip to topple over on himself as a laugh takes hold. When he barks, the noise practically bounces against the walls. Making the old wood shiver and Greed throws himself back. Howling and the liquor in hand sloshes and spins with his jerk-still movement.
"Ha -! That isn't really how it works - it's not like this could do much to me." For emphasis, the Sin rattles his wrist back and forth. "I told you before: I'm built tougher than most."
But when Kaede protests again, Greed closes an eye. As if he's slightly put-off by her voice of protest. But he coils finger after finger around his liquor, edging one foot forward. "It isn't that bad," he trails back to the bed, setting down the bottle on a nearby nightstand. On closer inspection, it's obvious that the linens have collected some dust over his lengthy absence. Greed snatches the end of a sheet, tearing it out from the slip of the bed.
"Tsk - you know out of everything, I figured that'd be the least of your complaints. Fine - " He tosses it aside, letting the fabric slip from his fingers into a pile on the floor. "But it's not like I have a lot left here."
"...I guess not." She doesn't like the idea of sleeping on this creepy old bed. But if she had nothing else, she would manage. Her arms wrap around herself, a breath letting out. "I guess that's what we've got. I guess the idea of a hotel is too much?"
But maybe Greed is in trouble in this place, still. She isn't sure but something isn't quite right. What it is that isn't right, she isn't sure or how to deal with that itch. Maybe she could find something out in the morning.
Greed trails his fingers down the abandoned bottle; touching when it curves and bends. With his back to her, his shoulders rise and those red lines knotting his back move with him. Stretching when his blades fan out, retracting when he settles again. Usually, it's easier.
When they've got nothing left to lose, that is.
But Kaede has plenty to lose: her life, her family. The situation is cruel and Greed makes a small groan of protest. "C'mon," he says as he tosses his head to the side. With bottle in tow, Greed settles down on the bed and his foot notches into the wood frame still holding at the edge. "-a hotel really isn't going to work."
And while the gesture is a silent one, sometimes silence speaks more volumes. "I told you, didn't I? I don't let anyone take what's mine." The homunculus leans his back into the worn mattress; it feels familiar under his back, even if the smell isn't exactly the same. "And I always take care of my own, Kaede."
Kaede raises an eyebrow at Greed and feels the need to point out, "I'm not yours. We're just-" Now those brows come together as she thinks about it, trying to come up with the right word, before a smirk comes to her lips.
"We're partners." Right. She can live with that idea. Still, as he unfolds himself onto the bed, right now she wants to poke her nose into the rest of this place and see if she can manage to find something that isn't so unnerving. Considering how long it looks abandoned, she isn't sure that's possible.
Ug, it's going to be a long night. "If we're staying here, can we clean it in the morning?"
Greed opens one of his eyes a bit lazily. He's got his arm shoved behind his head for a make-shift pillow and his fingers sprawl out. Holding the bottle of liquor with haphazard abandon.
"Partners, huh." The last one who had called him a partner was a little older. Not by much and still a kid in any sort of comparison. But she and him did share a lot: wanting, needing. Defiant but true to their own set of moral codes. Greed's lower lip purses out a bit and he locks his ankles together.
Finally, and not without an elongated sigh, he says: "Sure. But there are some paces you're not allowed to go to." With an index out, he points to the floorboards. "There's an exit leading down. It's off limits until I say otherwise."
"Don't give me that look." Kaede shakes her finger at Greed. Really, she has no fear of him. Fear of stupid things he does, like jumping off of a moving train, but none of him. No, not when she can match him and he's done not only nothing to hurt her, but has tried to protect her.
But of course, if you tell a child 'no', they're going to get curious. Her expression changes to match. "Why? What's down there?"
Greed places the end of the bottle to his lips, but pauses when she chides him. A close of his eyes has his brows falling, his lip churning upward. She's right - she can take it from him whenever she wants.
Then again, he also isn't the type for violence. Especially against a woman.
But when she presses more, the homunculus goes in for the kill. Swallowing down the liquor until half the bottle is drained. A breath of a sigh escapes him soon after. Noxious and toxic just like the booze he's pounding.
"Just do me the favor. It isn't something for someone like you."
It's like telling Adam and Eve don't touch that tree- you know it'll happen. Kaede shifts a little, already silently making plans to do exactly the opposite of what he's telling her. After all, if he's going to drag her to the dump, she wants to know about it.
"Can we go out in the morning? I need to find the others and like, know where we even are. My power isn't that obvious, and I don't even know who I'm supposed to be worried about! Some dudes in blue uniforms. Janitors wear blue uniforms."
Greed pauses. With his lower lip pursed out and the bottle hangs just in front of his face. He gives a slight roll of his eyes, setting the butt-end of the glass to his chest. "Yeah, we can. Right now just isn't the best time."
When she continues, he leans over to put the bottle on the nightstand. There's more people outside. Lingering conversations that catch his ear before he folds both arms behind his head. "State Alchemists," the homunculus says and his eyes wander to the ceiling. The crooked wood has held up pretty well, all things considered.
"-though they probably won't care too much about you."
Edited 2014-05-07 23:08 (UTC)
I realize I don't know if you play Greed from Brotherhood or the 2003 FMA.
"What's an alchemist?" Now he has her interest off the unknown below them, and she ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning a little on his legs. She's familiar with him, enough, that she lost the fear of touching him like she does with some others. Better, she understands the power that will come from him and the fact she can control it is a form of power.
There is also the inherit being of his nature that is leeching into her personality. That's why she wants more. greedy.
When she crawls on his legs, Greed slowly brings his arm away from his head. Alchemists aren't really a threat, but her ability would be something that would pique a wandering eye. Especially since she's feeding off of him like a leech - it isn't a normal thing and it certainly doesn't fall under Central's book of guided techniques.
Still, maybe things had changed. Maybe they hadn't. It would take more than a few hours to figure it all out. "Military," Greed says, his voice more hushed now. The dark outside turns his skin a little whiter. As the moon sends a soft glow into the room. It looks haunting this way, but somehow it's comfortable. "-they practice the laws of alchemy. Remember what I told you?"
The homunculus gives two small taps to his temple. "Equivalent exchange - can't make something without giving something up. That's their law anyway." A glint of his teeth in the dark could give the crescent a run for its money. "But I've been gone a while. I'm not sure what's happening now that the world hasn't ended."
"...world hasn't ended?" Kaede questions, making herself comfortable on him, stretching out a little as she leans her head back against the wall. Her eyes close, a little bit of exhaustion crawling across her. "What do you mean by that?"
She still really isn't sure what an alchemist is, but military is something she can understand. "What does it mean to practice alchemy? And doesn't a law mean people break it all the time?" Villains do that.
And what are you, in this world? Are you a hero? A villain like you claim?
Greed didn't bother looking at her. Kids were always trouble - kids always asked too much. Why, how, when: she doesn't need to know and he isn't interesting in telling. A story already dead and gone; Greed's not even sure how it all ended.
"Not that kind of law," the Sin chides back. His smile purses as he slowly bounces a heel off the opposing ankle. There's a low beat coming from down the street - another bar probably. With his already six-feet-under, Greed's not too surprised someone else picked up his usual clientele. "-physical law. You can't gain anything without sacrificing something else first."
Even him and his fall in the category. Gaining life at the sacrifice of thousands - the idea isn't lost on him. Never had been. "Does it really matter?" Greed slides his gaze to her finally. She's a bit closer than he expected, but it shouldn't be a surprise. Alone and lost and he's the only thing tethering her back to a life she knows.
A sigh escapes him. Sounding off like someone who's slightly annoyed. "You going to ask me questions all night, or are you actually going to sleep at some point?"
Kaede just fixes Greed with a glare for that last bit. She looks around, then actually just shoves his leg over a little and hogs part of the bed, curling herself up a bit like a dog. Really, it isn't very comfortable, and this whole situation is the same, but at least she knows most of what she's dealing with when it comes to Greed, and on top of that, she actually trusts him to protect her.
After all, she is 'his'. Maybe he is hers, in his own way.
"You're a jerk," she mutters, making sure even if her head is a bit buried in her arms that it's loud enough for him to hear it.
When she shoves him, the homunculus budges. He throws the offending leg over the other and makes a sort of 'tsk' when she continues to silently protest. Kids aren't his forte - never were. But they're honest. Her discomfort is easy to read and Greed merely tilts his head back just a bit. "You know, that's not very nice."
It isn't remotely what she's looking for. He knows that even if he doesn't entirely get it. His hand spreads and one arm loosens from the niche behind his skull. A moment later and he's got all five fingers on top of her head.
"Wouldn't be the first time someone's called me that," Greed whispers. His voice is rough, but solid. "-at least you're finally starting to get it." That he wasn't normal, nor was he the hero she's been looking for. But as his fingers spread and those rough pads slide through her hair, he figures it's enough.
Kaede doesn't feel the need to say anything to that, just closing her eyes and letting him touch her hair. It feels a little strange, but at the same time, it feels like the same thing her father does on rare occasion. So she can slowly fall asleep, curled up into a little ball there at Greed's side, as close to safe as she's going to get right now.
Her dreams are far from easy, and her fingers end up clenching the material of his pants through the night, hanging on tightly.
The question is, what will happen come morning? The lights in the bar hadn't gone unnoticed.
It's only when the clutching has stopped does Greed actually leave her. With a slip and slide, tossing himself to the other side of the bed to let her enjoy the well-needed sleep. Unlike him, she'll need the rest; to catch up before the day brings more news to the table.
He knows the 'Nest. All of its quirks, its secrets. The groaning of pipes that haven't been used, the flickering of lights begging for someone to take a look at. It's all a relic of what used to be - who he used to be. Staring back at him, mocking with all of its old promises.
Greed grimaces again and he's thankful he doesn't have the extra company.
He makes sure the entrance is barred and that the rest of the building is clear before heading to his destination. Out of every cranny and crooked corner, it's the last out of the set that he's been doing his best to avoid. Deep down below, where the bar ended and the basement opened up. An exit that had been meant to use when everything else had gone south. An escape, though even that hadn't worked to his liking.
Greed's crouched at an open hatch. The water below isn't running as quickly as it used to. It barely moves, collecting in some places and sloshing in others when something stray flitters across the surface. He narrows his eyes into the dark before lifting himself back up straight.
It would be an hour, maybe two, before Kaede would start from her sleep, a nightmare about her father shouting for her as the world collapses as she reaches out towards him. She jerks up hard, gasping as she clutches around her, staring about in the darkness. It takes time for her eyes to adjust to the faint moonlight coming in as she breathes hard, trying to get the feeling of raw fear out of her veins.
That's when she notices she's alone. "...Greed?" She calls out, but he's clearly not in the room. Her ... partner (no, not guardian, not protector) seems to have vanished while she slept. So slowly she gets herself out of the ancient bed, feeling hyper aware in the silence of the night and the abandoned bar. When she steps into the hall, she's more cautious when she calls out his name again, barely a whisper. Where is he?
After getting her pack, refusing to leave it behind, she slowly follows her way back until it leaves her standing in the main bar, unsure of what to do. Should she leave and try to find someone, or should she sit and wait for him?
His sunglasses are on a table nearby. Flickering back the waning flame of a candle. It's been burning for a while now. The blackening rim is proof of its negligence and the fire bounces on the surface of a mounting pool of wax. The morning is still young, but most have retired by now. The ill in-between of dusk and dawn makes the light through the windows bleed bleary purple.
For a while, it's only Kaede. Kaede and the groans coming from beneath the bar. The pipes rattle back, the windows whisper. Ghosts: the whole place stinks of them.
The silence is interrupted by the sound of a steady walk. Clunk goes one heel, clack goes another. From somewhere else and Greed's suddenly coiled up in a door frame. Sans his vest, his sunglasses. His head is dipped low as his elbow nudges into a cornered crook. "Oi, oi, oi - " The Sin starts, his voice brought down a notch or two. "-weren't you supposed be sleeping? Jeez."
He feigns annoyance and forces a smile. The smell on him sticks; of dirty water, of mold and dirt. Greed runs a hand through the spikes of his hair and shakes them for good measure. "Eh, guess it can't be helped." His arm falls away and he slips from the door. But not before shutting it with the back of his heel.
This leaves Kaede a complete nervous wreck by the time Greed returns. In fact, when he comes up, she'll be nothing but a shadow in the corner, tucked up hard against the wall, completely covered in black - his power. She almost spits out her words in pure fear and anger when he comes back in. "You- You total JERK! You were gone when I woke up! What is wrong with you?! You left me all along and where were you?!"
Oh yeah, she mad. She can't see herself, can't see the crimson eyes or white teeth. She's more delicate than him, but there is little doubt she had been ready to protect herself if it didn't turn out to be him.
Her voice comes out with that same metallic-ting he's used to. It surprises him at first, so he stays at the edge of the firmly-closed door for a beat. Her protest is clear, her loud yelping more so. The Sin's face falls a bit, frown furrowing lines to the corners of his mouth.
"Oi, oi, oi - " Greed drones out as he shuffles across the space between. The cuffs of his boots knock hollow against the floorboards, making dust shiver up from an early grave. "-keep it down, would ya? You don't really want anyone coming in here and seeing you like that." From his hip, he extends an index out to her. Throwing it up and down to try to grab her attention. It's strange like this; seeing his face, his ability, crawling and forming on somebody else.
Finally, he reaches where she's planted against the wall and Greed splays his thighs open. When he sinks in, it's with a hand on her head, the tips of his own claws springing out when 'Shield meets 'Shield. He runs the smooth side of them across her skull, urging a spark. "Though it's not like anyone could really hurt you this way."
He bends forward, turning his skull into her space like a scavenger at a kill. "Calm down."
"You left me all alone in a strange place where I have no idea where I am or who anyone is and you're telling me to calm down!?" Somehow, she does manage to drop her voice into a dramatic whisper, but it still ends in a bit of a shriek all over again. The feeling of his claws isn't the best one, grating against her, but it doesn't even really occur to her that she shouldn't feel it like that at all, that the Shield's come up over her whole body in her anger.
Anger always tends to lead down a path of 'losing control of one's powers' for her, as the point is proven right here.
"Where were you?!" Scowling so very unhappily at him. Maybe it would have a scarier effect with crimson eyes and visible teeth if it wasn't the power's owner looking back at it.
His claws ease away. Washing from the round of her skull as Greed flattens his elbows across his thighs. He's silent when she yells and screams; it isn't the kind of anger that comes out of spite. It's fear - he can practically smell it, taste it. That coppery tinge that quickly turns static.
"You done?" For a moment, his whole face seems to drop and a calm stillness takes his eyes. His expression isn't annoyed, it isn't even upset. Just blank for a moment or two before he turns his head over his shoulder.
"No use hiding it, I guess," Greed's voice comes out like a haunted whisper. "-but there were some things I had to take care of. Not really stuff kids like you should be seeing."
"...You're such a jerk." Kaede's anger crumbles in the face of Greed's impassiveness, crossing her arms over her chest as the Shield starts to receed from her face, leaving her with her chin up, scowling. But his words still send a bit of a shiver down her spine and her scowl turns to uncertainty.
There's only one thing that goes through her mind with his words, looking him over before softly asking, "you didn't hurt someone, did you?" Her mind is actually thinking 'kill', but really she couldn't bring herself to say it. She knows Greed isn't a good guy, he isn't a hero, but right now, he's all that she's got. She knows, bad guy and all, he will protect her and make sure she's taken care of. Easier to stay with something she knows than taking a chance on a world that might do something terrible to her if they know she isn't just human.
"No," Greed says back firmly. His fingers dribble between his knees and sway every so often. "I'm not too interested in hurting anyone unless I have to. I just had something to take care of."
His face falls a bit. Waning between exasperation and something a bit more. There's no scratches on his hands, no damage to anything. But there's a distinct smell of wet; of something raw that's been laying around for quite some time now. Greed grunts, shifting his shoulder up as he moves to stand.
"Eh- guess there's no use hiding it." The Sin turns his head over his shoulder, looking back towards the door. "I think you're smart enough to figure it out."
The bullets, the disarray: it tells a story. Simple to read between the lines that when everything went to hell? There were a few caught in the crossfire. Greed's teeth set, his upper lip pulls. "A few of mine," he starts, almost too low. Almost growling, a bit feral at the tongue. "-never did get what was owed to me."
Kaede doesn't quite understand. She's still a child, one who hasn't experienced anything like this in her short life. So she looks around in the light starting to come in and sees a bar in serious distress, dust and dirt. So she squints, trying to find something she's missing. Her head tilts slightly, then she spots it. The spray of bullet holes across one wall. But what does it mean?
She looks back to Greed with creased brows, trying to understand. A few of mine. He's called her that. She's felt it from him. Had something happened to other people he considered-
It comes to her all at once and she looks around sharply, then back to him. "Who? Why?" What had happened, here?!
"Doesn't really matter now, does it? They don't come back like I do."
And it isn't something he entirely wants to dredge up either. But something is owed, an explanation at best. He can see it in her eyes - that needle-point precision that's entirely like a child to have. Adults usually know better, kids like the pry. The who(s), what(s), where(s), when(s); it's a nagging trait.
Greed raps his nail against the floorboards.
"The military," he starts, not without the usual smarmy expression. "-eventually they found out I was here. Usually it wouldn't have been a problem, but they had something I wasn't expecting."
Wrath. For a second, his shoulders stiffen and his lips pull back. "Wasn't exactly prepared for it."
Kaede listens in silence as she tries to understand what happened back then. The military - the one he had warned her about - had come in and hurt (killed, she knows it's killed) the people Greed had with him. The idea of having anyone killed always makes her sick, but in this case, it's someone she cares about. ...Cares about in a very weird fashion, but does.
"Why? ...Why would they suddenly hurt you? Why did they have to hurt you and your people?" Still trying to understand, but realizing that maybe it's because of who-- what-- Greed is. He had warned her about being 'different' and the military, after all.
"Because," Greed has his pointer down and his whole body is stark still. "-they were working for one of mine at the time." Orders passed through one of his kin via his would-be creator. A whole government pulled on the strings of a master that would see his plan through. The Sin's lips pull back, his teeth flare out.
He had just removed himself from the picture long-since prior.
"Remember what I told you? I don't work for anyone else, sweet heart." He bows his head forward, thighs spreading just a bit more. "Good ol'Daddy sir wasn't too happy when I told him the same answer." And the answer had been a firm no. "I'm sure things have changed since then. The world hasn't ended - more than likely they actually took the opportunity."
He extends his hand, shoving it to the top of her skull. "It was a long time ago, kid. No use worrying about it now."
"I don't plan on worrying about it." Giving him a bit of a scowl for the headpat. She's not five or something. She pulls her head out from under his hand and crossed her arms. "So it was whoever this guy is that .... made you? He sent the military after you?"
What a jerk of a dad! Her nose wrinkles at the mere idea. "But now you're free, right? No one even knows you're here. You can do what you want." She looks around, gestures a little. "Fix this place up, even, or go somewhere else and do it. Make something else your own."
A hundred years of hiding; it had done him well. For a while, at least. Not that he had made it that hard, but those back in Central kept to their own. Chance had changed the circumstances; one mistake leading to a snowball effect. Greed reels away, forming into his back and spine as he slithers on the retreat. "But that's right - I wasn't born like you were."
Created, artificial. The Sin's mouth peels open, his teeth shine through. "Free enough. No one knows I'm here and you're right - " Whatever he wants. Oh, it's too good, too rich. Enough to make an almost inaudible pitch rumble in his gut. Sure, things have changed: he's changed.
But some habits are just a little harder to kick. "-there's still a whole world out there."
He fails to mention other things. Histories that still had some fixing, intel to paint the rest of the picture. There's gaps that are missing; details that are lost. It'll take some time, but thankfully?
Time's always been a commodity he had.
Greed presses his thumb into the back-dip of his hip. "Who says I'm not?" His head lulls to the side, his eyes flare open.
"The name is Greed - wouldn't be me if I just sat this out." His mouth presses together and his index hooks in the same space allotted between him and his. "The real question is - what do you plan to do?"
Then Greed turns it back on her. She frowns uncertainly and brushes some hair back behind her ear, looking to the side as she thinks about it. What does she plan to do? Well, isn't that obvious? There's only one thing she really can do, right now. So she looks to him after that undecided moment and meets his gaze without fear.
"I have to find my family. This isn't my world, right? If I got put here, there has to be a way home. Zelien's always brought everyone together, and I don't know why this seems to be different, but my family could even be out there somewhere!"
But how she's supposed to do that? She has no idea. She doesn't have time like Greed does, and she's only a child. A child who has a power that could get her in deep trouble if anyone finds out.
Anything is possible and there's no such thing as no such thing. Greed listens in silence as she explains. Despite her age, Kaede can bounce back. She can reform under pressure and become resilient in her own ways.
Even without the help of a borrowed 'Shield.
Greed's knees creak when he finally stands. A straightening of the spine and he's slumping over again. This time, though, the smile of his is more beckoning. Thriving with his insatiable need. "There's a whole world out there - doesn't seem right to just stay here, does it."
It doesn't mean that Greed won't come back to Dublith, but a lot has changed since his untimely demise. He turns from her, peering out where the small brisk of dawn shines through. A sneer paints onto his face and a quick scoff follows.
"And here I thought I was done with brats - fine." The homunculus throws his thumb over his shoulder. "Go grab some supplies from out back."
"Supplies?" She frowns, looking over towards where he gestured with confusion. "Where do you have supplies?" Which... sounds like a good idea as suddenly her stomach gurgles loudly. She's gotten used to a severely reduced diet as they've had almost nothing but creamed corn for months now so her appetite has reduced to nothing. Still, it's been long enough that she's gotten quite hungry.
"Can we-- we don't even have money or anything, do we?" How would they be able to survive? Get food, get clothing... all she has is the stuff in her pack, but it isn't a lot!
"Doesn't matter - it's not like we can really stay here anyway, right?"
He doesn't need to say more than that. The curtains flutter and the shutters bang. The 'Nest is nothing but bones. A skeletal remain of what used to be; of what was once his. Now there's nothing more save dust and grime to keep the weathered bits company.
Greed walks away from her, moving around the bar with a swift stride. He disappears not a second later, ducking under to the tune of chiming glass and banging tin. "Over there," he starts. With his hand extending out, crooked index throwing itself to a small hallway. "-not much in there, but snag what you can. There's a box with a few centz still left in it."
Not much to go by, but enough to get them out of Dublith.
But the Sin's grin is as present as it is obvious, despite him being out of sight. He purrs on the other side of the wood:
Kaede snorts before she goes down the hallway Greed pointed out, moving uncertainly as she goes about, trying to find what there is to be found. Really, it isn't a lot. Really someone had probably long since come through and cleaned this place out, but she isn't about to say that. What does surprise her is to find a box and indeed, some odd looking currency within that she empties into her own pocket. Maybe Greed's used to going through life without too much worry, but she needs to eat and seriously isn't about to stay in the same grungy clothes forever!
She comes back out and gives him a look. "Whatever's been in this place before is pretty much gone, boss," spoken with a bit of a mocking tone, having no idea that title might be more than she intends.
By the time she's back, there's a collection of liquor on the bar and some more spare change. That gets swiped up by his hand and shoved into his back pocket. It's only a few coins and bills, but it'll at least get them out of Dublith.
Not that train-hoping wasn't another option.
Greed knuckles the few bottles worth his time: a wine, a brandy. A type of clear liquid marked with some strange letters. And of course, a half-drained portion of scotch. Next to the bar, there's an open shoulder bag with faded markings: "AMESTRIS | CENTRAL COMMAND" is stamped in white on the olive-drab side.
He shoves his collection in, letting them ring and chime off one another. "Doesn't surprise me," Greed purrs out. What does is her choice in wording. There's no hiding the keen pleasure on his face.
The liquor gets an uneasy eye settled on it because what does she care about booze at her age, but she knows her father tends to drink beer and the rest of her family doesn't. Still, she doesn't say anything and just makes a face at the sound of the bottles clinking together; anyone could hear them from a mile away. An abnormal thought for someone her age, maybe, but enough time in Zelien does that.
So she reaches into her own bag and pulls out a shirt, gesturing for him to let her at the bag. She winds the shirt between the bottles so that there's enough padding to keep them from clinking against one another, to a degree.
She doesn't miss the grin on his lips from her words, either. She remember all too well the utter swelling of possessiveness she had felt when she had his power activated in her. How she had wanted everything, even him. To own it all. It's part of why she plans to not use it as much as possible, on top of the danger it could put her in.
When she's finished with the bag, Greed slips his fingers through the straps. One, two, three, four until his thumb winds around the other side. He lifts it onto his shoulder, forcing the olive-drab sling under the fur of his collar. "Good thinking," is the only compliment he provides.
Still, there is a glimmer of appreciation. Greed places his hand on Kaede's skull for one last rub. As his fingers leave, the night life outside dwindles. Like devils creeping back so that the sun couldn't catch them. It's replaced by the soft opening of windows, the groaning of store fronts yawning to the early morning. The Sin places his hand to the front door and forces it ajar.
"Now?" Greed taps his foot, almost giddily excited at the prospect. And he is, to some degree. His world, his turf - but it's new.
And it's all his. "-why don't we see just what they've got for us, huh?" The homunculus flashes a grin over his shoulder. Glinting white as the gold-orange rays peek through the wood-slits like curious children about to unwrap a secret box.
"-There's a whole world out there, Kaede. C'mon."
And with a kick, he throws the hatch door and disappears below.
Dawn always brought one or two things. It was either the news of the day, highlighted in the next rebellion, the next uproar in a city long away. Or it was a semi-haze of quiet. As shops reopened and vendors poured onto the street to readying their wares. Today, the latter was true. The rustling of early-morning workers took to the cobblestone streets like an act well-rehearsed. Pulling carts from side-alleys, setting up ice from buckets that still smelled of yesterday.
Greed hardly ever got the chance to see it.
But he had plans - big plans.
Covetous fingers snatched an apple as he passed by. A flick of a coin behind him shut any protest that would have followed and he bent and turned. Chasing the flurry of movement with one of his own. To anyone who didn't know, he looked the part of a staggering drunk trying to find his way home. Or one of those others. That had long since lost their mind to the trails and tribulations of the day.
Neither were true.
Greed snapped at the curved side of an apple. Sliced his teeth right in and pulled. He didn't need it, not really. Not like the people around him needed it and it was more a casual luxury at best. His coat tails whipped behind him - hard leather, worn, and he sunk his head forward to peel away from the thick tangle of fur at his collar.
He had been stationed in Reole for about a week now and everything had gone to schedule. The whispers in the streets, the hushed words at the edge of ears that were just itching to pull the trigger. To hold up knives and cry, "Enough!" That hadn't been his doing, though. She had handled that all on her own.
But the bloodshed was becoming boring. The body-toll turning to nothing more than a waste. And the Avaricious felt himself gnawing at the bit more and more each day.
There was a train. One primed and ready to head south. That was his ticket and they'd never see it coming. In all of the commotion, in the fires that would follow - he would be long gone and by then, it'd be far too late for any of them to figure it out.
A grin slid up his face and Greed tossed the apple into the air. Caught it with a quick-snatch of the wrist. He passed by a beggar and dropped the rest into a tin-can.
"Thank you, kind sir. For your charity," he heard in his passing.
Greed tossed his hand over his head without a second glance. His private smile deadly and unseen. "It's not charity friend - I'm just not that good of a guy."
“You have the oddest tastes in clothing.” Came her voice from the bathroom. It’s a teasing tone, one she’s grown more than comfortable using with him over the months. He, strangely enough, had become her comfort and a stability in her life that she had never expected. They were such opposites on so many levels that everything somehow managed to balance, and after a while, Velma simply ceased attempting to find the logic in them.
Not when she was having such a damn good time of herself.
Normally, she wouldn’t have had the confidence to indulge such attire, but that was before, when her self confidence in that arena left much to be desired. Now, her confidence was no longer an issue. Greed had personally seen to that with surprising patience. Greed was also the reason she was slipping on that particular dress and boots, and despite the fact that she wore them entirely for his benefit, to indulge his tastes, Velma felt a flushed thrill roll through her. He had the tendency to bring out this sexier side of her more and more as of late, but she never even thought to complain.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and she stepped out, arm holding the front of the dress in place as she turned around. The zipper was open, exposing the bare skin of her back in a coy sort of triangle, pointing south toward the curve of her rear. With a sultry look she had long since perfected on him, Velma glanced over her shoulder to him, eyes slightly lidded to play into the part.
“Can you help with my zipper?” The question was soft, almost innocent sounding at how she asked it. Who knew she could still do innocent after all this time?
He hadn't really asked as much as he had coaxed. With the coil of a finger and a smile: "Why don't you give it a try." Velma had become sort of a staple-visitor. Dropping in when he least expected and she appeared more often. When the initial ice-breaker was over and after a while, Greed considered her a regular. Always a bit awkward, but even that had faded a bit over time.
Women weren't in low-demand and he had plenty to call. But those who stuck around where always his favorite and while Greed was known for his less-than-favorable bed-side manners, there were a few rules. His hand had never been raised to a women and never would be, for starters. And secondly, he always did remember a face, even if the name wasn't entirely clear.
Velma, though - she was different. Like those he had taken under his wing; familiar, a friendly face. When she had asked for him, he came. Without questions or much conversation. Just there suddenly, making himself quite at home.
So when the door opened, Greed was half-saddled into the crook of the adjacent-room frame. Wrist nudged to wood and his hip was checked into a sharp corner. He turned his head over his shoulder when the orange-hum from the bathroom made a sharp edge of light flicker through the dark. For a moment, there was a brief tick of surprise; making his eyebrows raise and his lips fall around a half-burnt cigarette.
But that's all it was: brief.
His jaws spread. Fanning his unsavory dentistry around the butt-end of his smoke as he pried it out of his jaws. It found a home between his thick knuckles, still puffing out gray-blue plumes as he jolted off his perch. To say the sight was a surprise was dull at best. The smoothness of her skin against the inky-black tide of her dress made his eyes flick. Hooded with a need that practically invaded every action he made. The Sin pressed the cigarette against the pad of his finger and ash spat back. Until a quick-flash of red mended the wound and he slipped the extinguished cigarette into his back pocket.
"Oh-?" Greed clacked forward and his body swayed. Sauntered as he took up a purposely-slow stride. The glow from the bathroom touched his sunglasses, making them flicker in the dark. Like a candle on the low-burn and he slipped the tip of his nail into the hook of the zipper. "What's the occasion, lovely?" He asked, as he coiled around her back. Practically pressing up against her and his other hand framed out her side, her hip. Followed her curves without touching; keeping his distance, but still communicating with a silent kind of gesture.
"You usually don't do this sort of thing - it's new for you." Greed pulled the zipper up slowly. Listened as metal clinked together and his nose brushed the nape of her neck. She smelled different than before; soap instead of laboratory chemicals. A perfume instead of the dusty remnants of old library books.
Something had changed. He just wasn't sure if he was to blame or if it was something else entirely. "So what's the occasion? We going somewhere I should know about?"
Velma had been keeping an eye out for that briefness, as it were, finding a certain twist of joy in still being able to surprise someone as old as him. A devious sort of streak in her that he had nurtured and brought just a shave closer to the surface.
His need reflected back to him in the curve of her hips and quickening of her breath. The desire curled in her eyes, behind a sort of curiosity and sharpness that took over when she was observing the details of a situation, often times memorizing them with a practiced ease.
The intentionally languid pace simply gave her more time to watch and wait, no doubt his end goal. Not that she would complain, her gaze marauding over the now familiar form, lean with muscle and long with height. He towered over her, projecting a strength and cockiness that she knew was justified in most areas.
One arm holding the front of her dress in place, the other reached back and up to carefully tug off his sunglasses. His eyes, often predatory in nature, fascinated her with their intensity, and burned her with heat when she became the focus of those eyes. From the inside out the heat continued to build.
"No occasion," she finally breathed, voice low and riddled with the sultry edge of seduction. Her back arched as he tugged the zipper skyward, the tip of his nail tickling a trail along the line of her spine the entire way.
Wanting nothing more than to lean back against him, Velma fought the urge and remained relatively still. As difficult as it was to keep from giving into his touch, the results of the slow burn teases increased the intensity of the pleasure during their time together, and at the end. Each and every one of them.
Absently, she tilted her head ever so slightly to allow him better access, encouraging him wordlessly as they had a polite discussion over the veritable powder keg of lust forming between them. "You bought yourself a gift," she explained, letting him know she used his card to purchase such an outfit. "I thought it'd be your style."
His question brought a little smile to her lips that danced through her eyes. Going somewhere. Velma had a feeling that they wouldn't have made it out of the apartment even if she had set up plans. "Do you want to go somewhere?"
The sunglasses came from his face with ease. As simple as pulling a glove from the smooth fingers of a well-polished lady. But he was neither; rough around the edges, sharp with all his points. Those eyes of his were half-hooded when she stole the pair from him, but Greed didn't protest. Instead, he flicked his gaze to the reflecting objects around them: the window just out of view, the obscured sliver of a bathroom mirror. In the dark, those purple eyes of his practically hummed with a glow. As they stole light and swallowed it whole.
"Did I now," Greed stopped mid-way up her back with the zipper. Touching his knuckle to her spine as a tense shrill sounded in the air. Behind her, the hand at her side licked black and the Sin urged his 'Shield up with an elongated-pause. Let it slither as it traced jagged lines across his skin. "-didn't realize. Must have slipped my mind."
Talons slipped down. Trailing to where the dress ended and the back of her thigh began. He pressed them against the flesh, slowly dragging them up to mark small lines across her skin. Not enough to scratch, but to tease. To remind her just what sort of monsters were really lurking in the dark.
"Not really." The dress hitched up a bit. Climbing as he explored with those chilled-carbon claws. Tapping to map out her thigh blindly; he was too busy watching her. Chasing each reflection as she moved. When her breathed hitched just a bit and her pulse ran hard enough for him to catch.
Greed rolled his foot up against her own. Shoving the heel of his boot down to slowly pivot the rest to follow. This close, he could feel it - every little twitch of movement that beckoned him to follow. And follow he did. Tilting his head in as her necked swayed away and his breath was warm against her skin. Perhaps a little too warm.
A telling sign of his own making.
"Not unless you've got other plans. Wouldn't want to keep a gal from getting what she wants, after all." The Sin coiled his claws inward, prodding just at the base of her thigh with the edge of a joint. "Though that wouldn't exactly be very nice of you would it?"
Her own, plainer by comparison, hazel eyes watched his as she deftly folded the glasses with one hand, setting them on the nearby surface of a bookshelf. Without realizing it, the tip of her tongue slipped out to wet her lips even as she held hard against the urge to close the distance between them. To catch his lips with hers in earnest.
"Mhmm," she agreed, body shuddering against the first, simple contact of skin against skin. The first of many, she anticipated with the ghost of a self-satisfied smirk.
The sight of his talons moving southward, caused a shiver of anticipation. A gasp followed, blooming into a soft moan barely escaping her parted lips, her eyes fluttering closed so she can focus on what he was doing to her. Unless he wanted her to watch him. A gentle reminder would suffice if that were the case.
Her ass followed the upward motion of his claws, tilting up as if to escape to tortuously delicious chills. The hitching fabric reveals bare skin and naught else, another foresight of Velma's as she had changed. Further exploration would reveal just how excited she felt, not that he couldn't already observe that.
The more he teased, the more she squirmed beneath him, a hand reaching out to blindly grasp for some sort of hand hold to support her in case her legs gave out as they were threatening. Her breath sometimes came in irregular pulls that she tried to hold even, but he knew all her buttons, even if he was only blindly pushing them at the moment.
A soft variety of pleasurable noises continued to escape her despite her best efforts, urging him closer. Urging him further. The heat of his breath against the sensitive nook of her neck almost shattered all sense of reasonable restraint, but practice had stiffened her ability to tolerate more of his torments. Velma had always been an excellent student, after all.
She swallowed at his words and the breath that followed, familiar and rough from the recent smoke, an acquired taste that she had strangely grown to crave. Even if she did dislike his penchant for the habit.
The prod of his finger caused her knees to weaken as she cried out with a gasp. There's no pain in her voice, simply surprise that shifted to join the tangible accumulation of desire within the room. He was a monster, and she couldn't help but adore him for it.
Words. He wanted her to form words into sentences after one hand of his went on leisure tour of her thigh? Cruel indeed. Instead, she gave in and pressed herself back against him in a solid movement, groaning through gritted teeth. "Since when do you play nice, my Avarice?"
Greed smiled against the back of her neck. He kept his nose pressed to her skin, even as the rest of his body melted with her back. The gentle prod of a hip-bone knocking to the curve of her spine and the Sin feathered the smooth-side of his nails against her ass. Fanning the collection as he examined with a quick-flick glance.
"Ha -! I never do - fair, sure. But nice? I'm just not that kind of guy. I'm selfish, remember?" He slid a talon between her thighs, hooking it at the band of her underwear playfully. "You should know me a bit better than that."
She knew. And the pet name was just a cute little insult proving their history. Nothing he took offense at; it was hard to do so anyway.
She squirmed and he chased her. Rocking to the left when she tried to find her balance; shifting to the right when he prodded her in the direction. Greed opened his jaws, humming against her skin. Pricking the edges of his teeth as he rolled his hips against her backside before he stilled there.
"But this - seems I owe you, don't I?" The Sin moved his head to whisper against the shell of her ear. As his other hand, the one not preoccupied with the cotton-lining of her underwear, smoothed down the front of her thigh. Rutting fabric, making it wave and fish-tail between his fingers. "After all, I've always counted myself as fair."
There was a snap. As the toyed-band gave way to the acute hook of his talon. Cotton splintered and the threads twisted; frayed as he pulled the would-be weapon through. "You're just full of surprises though." The lines on his chest were hot to the touch; his own rotten core telling him where to go, what to do.
And what to rightfully take.
But while he was forceful in other aspects, Greed was gentle here. While he let his claws skip across the trail of her skin, mapping out the direction to where the fabric clung to the other side of her hip. It didn't last; sliced just as quick and he caught the edge between the points of his nails.
"Why don't you tell me everything you want." He was moving away. As both knees knocked out in opposite directions to make him fall against her back. His mouth whispered at her spine, trailing as he spoke. Down, down, down - until he had the offending shreds of a garment in his teeth. Pulling it free with a chase nip at the back of her thigh.
It was discarded a moment later. Falling away when he clicked his fingers together and a hand wrapped around her hip. Anchoring him to her, lifting him back to the comfort of her curves. But not before he gave a little snap at her rear - a vicious sort of gesture, but it was only that - a gesture to keep her guessing. To question where he would be next as the fabric of her dress was released, letting it fall back to a wafting-rest.
As selfish as he proclaimed he was, Greed had an interesting way of including her pleasure in his list of selfish desires, a decidedly important point of their relationship. Without the addicting, and seemingly never ending, gratification, it's unlikely that Velma would have stayed so long and endured some of his more callous personality traits.
Still, she nodded, her answer encompassing several of his questions as she leaned her head to rest back against his chest, to let his body guide hers in a way. It also kept her standing as he threatened the skin of her neck with his unruly dentition, a low groan escaping her at both that and the growing heat pressing behind her.
Closing her eyes, Velma lost herself in the motion of his hands and the paths created by his talons, humming softly between squirming sighs of approval. Shivers from the various ministrations continued to roll through her. Some were minor, while others near jerked her eyes open with a gasp.
Full of surprises. Maybe, or just a quick study able to predict how something like this outfit would affect him, her avarice. It's the same surprise that oft led her to not wearing her best undergarments around him since they tended to end up on the floor in shredded pieces more often than not.
Her hips twisted with the teasing path of his nails as they went about destroying this pair. It's not particularly knee-buckling if only because she expected it and had braced herself accordingly. However, his movement southward robbed her of her veritable wall to lean against, and she nearly toppled in his hands with the playful nip to her rear curves.
The request might have sent some weakness to her knees as well. Even though it's something she expected him to ask, Velma never became accustomed to verbally expressing exactly which dirty deeds she desired him to perform on her. Usually it boiled down to whichever would make her come the most and the hardest, but with him that didn't exactly narrow down the list much.
His rougher snap brought he to heel, so to speak, and she yelped softly in surprise, shivers raising gooseflesh over the larger than normal expanse of bare skin.
"I want to feel it tomorrow." She admitted ruefully, eyes closed and blush rolling between the freckles that dotted her fair skin. "For each step to be a reminder of how you hit that sweet spot so masterfully..." Velma swallowed, shaking slightly at the thought. "And so... Frequently."
Mimicking his style of speech had been an interesting trick she had picked up during their time together, as it tended to have quite the positive effect on events.
Greed's lips were close to her ear. As he listened to every word she spoke and his claws fanned out; making a shrill noise behind her neck as he spun a strand of hair out of the way. The way she moved, the way she spoke: it was all to bait him and his rather insatiable tendencies. To have his eyes focus and that core of his rung back. Like a radar sound pitching back when she strummed out the last vibration.
She was just as needy as he was, after all.
The smile on his face was wide. Full of teeth, full of sharp points that glinted back in the glass when he turned. Greed touched his nose to the side of Velma's jaw and his too-black claws framed the other side of her head. "Hard to say no to something like that," he spoke, his usual baritone a purred-out hiss. A gasket left open, leaving a noxious poison in its wake. The two of them couldn't have been more different from the start, but somehow he had exposed her. Exchanging his need, his greed to her again and again. A little more each time.
Not that he was complaining.
He spun around her, mimicking the elongated crawl of a viper. Heels clacking as he swiped and winded her side. Greed placed the tip of a nail against the under part of her chin, keeping it posed there like an anchor to his movements. One false move could mean disaster, but he was far too careful for that. Jerking with a tightening of his torso, a dip of his shoulder. Until he was trading places, spinning around to meet her face to face.
"Stay still, hmn? Don't want to end up hurting you accidentally." Greed pulled his claws away before running his palms across the tops of his thighs. He dropped then. Falling onto the balls of his feet so that his knees extended across the outside-edges of her calves. A nose was pressed into the side of her leg and Greed slowly nipped up. Climbing with the chase promise of his teeth and his hands followed. Pushing ahead to pull her dress aside.
Velma's hip was easy to swallow in his mouth. Snapped at and Greed gently held the bone between his teeth. As one hand disappeared under the black caress of her dress. He dropped the 'Shield once he was close enough, coiling a finger or two to rough-smooth knuckles. A prod had him where he wanted to be and he started slow; moving counterclockwise against her sex.
He knew how to play the anticipation game, that's for certain, and though his style leaned further into theatrics than she generally enjoyed, she could tolerate a bit of odd flair here and there. Her eyes watched him as he moved, eyebrows raising in bemusement at times and settling into an intense stare at others.
It's easy to let her attention slip down to his hips, to chew lazily at her bottom lip while her imagination and previous experiences flooded her mind. When his nail touched beneath her chin she froze, falling dead still, gaze snapping up to meet his so she can judge his mood. Not that he'd ever hurt her, but the danger it insinuated always brought her to a heightened sense of awareness. Every touch and movement amplified from adrenaline.
She could feel the throb of her heat between her legs even before he told her to stay still, a suggestion she never took lightly. Her one hand moved to brace herself against something solid and near, while the other smoothed through his hair in a gesture of affection. At least, that was the plan.
His nips cause her fingers to tighten in his locks, a low hiss forcing it's way out past her lips sharply, followed by a slow, shuddering inhale to keep herself from moving. It's a task that's easier said than done, especially when she tended to rock her hips against whatever gave her pleasure below the belt. But he's done this to her before, made her wait and endure his slow teases while some part of her balanced on the thin blade between pleasure and too much pain.
The reaction comes as a low, barely audible groan, legs shaking imperceptibly as she tried not to twitch or shift her weight. Standing like this was a difficult position in which to remain still under normal circumstances, but even more so when someone's teasing over a very receptive patch of lady business. "Mn," came the soft whine as her hand's grip tightened ever so slightly, "I don't think I can stay entirely still for much longer."
And patience in this arena wasn't exactly one of Velma's virtues.
With her grip firmly planted in his hair, Greed chased a sharp smile across her skin. He moved his fingers back and forth, exchanging an index for a middle as he played between her legs. "Then don't," was what he whispered. As his wrist hiked away the rest of her dress, making it pool and drape across the length of his forearm.
He pressed his forehead in first as a bit of a warning. Caressing down her stomach while the tips of his fingered continued their motion. Pad to knuckle and back again. Greed snapped his jaw and the slight pain at the spikes of his hair only fueled him. Her want, her need. It was better this way; without having to speak or order. Just silent tugs to tell him what was wanted and what specially wasn't.
He hitched a finger inside of her. One knuckle in, just slightly. He didn't need to rush things; not with her. Not with anyone else. Greed had time and plenty of it - enough that two-hundred years hadn't even dwindled that constant throb deep below in his own pit. Time was a commodity he had in spades and as he tested her with a deeper prod, his lips replaced the absence at her clit.
"Show me everything you want," Greed hummed and his knees hit the floor. She had done him a favor and he always counted himself a fair sort. Crooked maybe, but honest. "-whatever you need, lovely." His tongue came first; tracing from the base of her then up and up and up. Until lips found her sex and Greed brought them inward. A means of cushioning the sharps of his teeth while he sucked and rolled. Picking up the rhythm his fingers had been plucking at just a moment ago.
All the while, he pressed a little more into her. A little deeper. Finding the same pace and matching it.
[The sea licked up the shoreline. Rolling softly across the edge, caressing it with fingers foamed in white as it trailed back out again. The tide was starting to drain; with the moon overhead as its signal and the waves slowly rocked away. Leaving behind trails to where the water had been, soaking the sand black in the wee-hours of morning.]
[Bottles rolled across the edge, making the sand shift where it still stayed dry. Greed often found himself at the shoreline. After a few deals down at the docks; trading intel and whatever-else came off the murky-bows of the ships lined there. Some knew his name, knew his face. Knew that if they were wise, the business was good. Others were naive to the fact and the charm was easy to put on. With a flip of the hand and a devil's smile: "Do we have a deal?".]
[But business was over, which left the Sin in question to walk out the remaining hours. He had already his fill, though even that was an impossibility. The fur-lining of his long-leather coat smelled of it - of women, of men. Of smoke and liquor and everything else that was damned by law and creed.]
[Not that he followed those rules, anyway.]
[Greed picked at the threads of his jacket. The sleeves had been ripped off, a novice effort that left strands behind. He turned his head, dipped himself low as he followed the tide-line with each roll of his ankle. Like this, he looked the part of a shadow. A ghoulish sort of creature; with a Cheshire's grin to rival the moon hanging above as he pocketed his hands and fingered the gold and coin that bounced back.]
[He saw it first; the outline of something - someone - pooled out in the dark. A hand stretched to the beckoning land and the rest of the body left for the tide to rock it. He made a noise in his throat, pulling his lip back just so.] What a waste. [The Sin came close, shuffling through the bleach-white sand as he rounded the body.]
[With his knees splayed out, the Sin crouched down and stretched out his hand. His nails touched gnarled hair, winding it around as sea-salt dripped across his palm.]
There was not one part of his body that did not hurt. The poison had stripped him of hours, of himself, lost in a haze of near death. Lost to the void, that spilled forth in the place between the two. Where death almost took him, he'd fallen into the hole in the world. For all that they had dumped his body on a raft in the ocean, they really should have known better.
He was alive not because he wanted to be, but because he must. Life beyond all reasonable expectation of such.
And maybe it's his own strength, maybe it was the spirit that kept him alive in those hours before he washed up on shore. Hard to tell, hard to draw the line between. He expected little, only that death would be a true mercy to the agony he felt. His body as scarred as his mind.
But he had given none, and thus expected no quarter. Not when he felt fingers in his hair and life -- came lancing back through his body like a blade between the ribs. He gasped in air, only to regret it immediately. Lungs hardly filled with air, and his body sought to rid him of all of it. He shuddered, coughing harshly, spasming with the effort of his stomach emptying itself. Sea water, blood, and the sweet sickly stink of poison. Too exhausted to even lift his head from the ground.
Only but for a moment, just because there was someone near, it did not mean kindness, he'd learned that lesson. He'd never bitten the hand that fed him, but it had never stopped him from being struck by it. So he tried, to push himself up, to move away, but he got no further than to push himself up onto his arm, before that gave out on him again. After all this, not the strength to fight. ( He expected death, because death was what he deserved ). ]
[Fingers recoiled as soon as a breath came. Gasping like a fish out of water and Greed held his palm open over Corvo's head. Only to pull away once the vomiting started and the Sin sank his hands between his knees. Watching with the silence of a church-face gargoyle, but passing no judgement.]
[Only when Corvo was done, did he speak out. Hand flipped casually as it swung on the crook of his elbow.] You still with me, friend? [Greed bent down, bringing his face in for closer inspection. The smells on the guy were telling; the violent up heaving more so. But life sometimes had a funny way of turning the tides and Greed whistled through his teeth.] Could have sworn you were dead. Glad to see that isn't the case.
[Behind him, the long tails of his coat dragged in the sand. Brown-tan leather that was beaten and worn with age. It fit the time period, but only slightly. Greed shoved it aside, pushing the heavy weight up and over his hip as he pressed a hand to the man's shoulder.] For a human I gotta say - I'm impressed.
[But he wasn't about to take no for an answer, so he didn't even as. A shove of an arm as him between Corvo's back and his shoulder and Greed sunk his nails into the fabric of a jacket. It was soaked to the bone, starting to chill even with the comfortable breeze coming off the water.] You're lucky. Most would have left you out here to rot.
[The tone of his was snide; charming, but dangerous. A tempter with a baritone purr and Greed shifted his heel. Shoved it a bit deeper into the sand to find an anchor.] Don't bother talking - wouldn't do you any good anyway. You don't exactly heal like I do.
[ There was a grunt, being moved around without a real ability to stop it.
He'd smile at the compliment, if not the fact that the words were echoed from far off. Like he was stuck some deep place under water, the voice above him was a distant memory by the time his words muddled out what he was saying. The sea water on his tongue, thick like blood, and it made it impossible to speak.
But his hand rose as he was rolled and tugged. Live, he must live, for if he did not, who would?
So the hand grasped past any true ability to do to. Sand and dirt muck as he grabbed Greed's jacket, tugging him close. A support, the only one he had, and that was a truth and reflection of his life that was more unfortunate. ]
They took her. They took her. [ He fumbled, trying to pull himself up, but it was impossible to do so. His hands slipping in their hold, forced to lean and no matter his pride, it seemed all he was capable of. Groaning once more as the pain wracked him again for even that much.
[Ten years ago, he might have done the guy a favor. Sliced him from stomach to chest, torn through his throat. That was what he had been made for after all. But those days were gone. Still fresh, but gone nonetheless.]
[So when Corvo grabbed hold of his collar, Greed leaned in closer. Those jaws of his near an ear and the stink was worse up close. The pale underbelly of death and it smelled sour. Like milk left out in the hot-summer sun. But the Sin made no protest nor did he turn away. Instead, he hunched his shoulders up and pulled the other onto his feet. As it were nothing; as if the added weight hadn't bothered him in the slightest.]
They usually do, friend. That's what happens when you end up on the wrong side of a deal. [Whispering, his voice was a hiss. A pipeline of acrid smoke and liquor. The sand beneath them shifted as Greed moved and positioned the other.] Tsk - seems we're gunna have to do this the hard way.
[The hard way entailed a little foot-work on his part. Keeping Corvo steady as he shoved himself underneath the other. Crouching a bit until he felt sea-soaked clothes at his back; around his neck and through his hair. A hand trailed behind him, shoving the man's thighs apart none-too-gently.] C'mon - don't tell me you're done yet.
[A jump had Greed pulling the other onto his back. Akin to someone lifting a sack over their shoulder and he twined the man's arms around his throat. Prying fingers under his thighs and he coaxed them over the juts of his hips.]
[ He hung limp. Another time maybe, he may have protested. The irony alone demanded it. How many bodies? How many? He didn't know, he didn't care. Taken to be dumped, and maybe that was what was about to happen.
( there was a noise, of almost in protest that died in the back of his throat. turn him back into the sea, let the waves devour him, let him be free, let him be rocked to sleep -- )
He looked through his hair, the blood and spit from his lips catching and trailing in it. Sea damp, they would smell of salt, and the copper would just match.
It took some effort, minutes as he hung and the world tilted, to grasp the back of the one who dragged him back into the world of the living, fingers weakly taking purchase on it. More sign of life than he'd displayed so far.
Kill him, but not yet. Not yet, he'd fight, he had breath, and hands, thoughts to call his own. ]
[With company on his back, Greed takes away from the shore. Leaving the waves to wash and lick, sounding off with the lulling roll of water. It sloshes behind him, each step taking them further and further away. Until the dull hum of street life replaces the ocean's would-be lullaby and Greed climbs a small rock-face with ease.]
Not that much of a talker, are you.
[Clunk and his heel hits the surface of the dock. A few strides past the usual(s) have them heading back to town. It's lit in hell-fire as torches roar up the length of wood. A perfect time for him and his; when the shadows breath more hiding spaces and the Sin easily sinks into them. Disappearing from casual side looks that don't dare utter a word.]
[Good for them. It'd be a real disappoint to have to stop now and answer the daunting questions that would probably follow.]
[A horse and cart passes by and Greed stops to let them go. Before shoving himself down a crooked alleyway made up of uneven cobblestone. The stretch is dimmer as they pass through. With a few passersby merely nodding; as if they know him, know the look. Seen it time and time again and it's just the usual business at hand.]
[There's a wooden door down the winding street and Greed slams his elbow into it. While he shifts the weight on his back and the lock pops. Cracks wide open to let him in.]
[ It's a sickening swirl, of bright lights and too dark shadows. A mix of light and dark that curls in on itself as he's carried away. He licks his lips and the taste of the poison on his lips almost makes him gag again.
He shakes his head in response, not even bothering to realize that his saviour could not see him to know his reply. Half holding his head up, he tries to make sense of where he was. Hair swaying and dripping water and sand as they made it further into the city. Smells and sounds foreign and nightmarish trickle that filtered through. No longer the agony he was before, but the pain would not go from him.
When the silence comes again, the street muted to far off again, that was when he tugged, to be let down, even if it was just to be dropped onto the floor. ]
[The main room isn't much to look at. A pauper's drop by the looks of it. And it seems that he hasn't been here all that long; the decorations don't match the face, the demeanor. Someone else's life - stolen and snatched without a second glance.]
[It hasn't been the first time he's taken what's so readily available.]
[Greed can feel the nudge at his collar. A silent plea to be let go. He makes a noise in his throat that seems to rumble from deep in his gut.] So you're not dead.
[The Sin casually kicks a chair out. Yanking it with the crooked tip of his boot to send it spinning away from a well-used desk. There's a ink bottle there; worn dry from disuse. Any of the paperwork left behind has long since been stained. By liquor, but something else.]
[Though it doesn't really matter anymore.]
[Greed sets his company down with a rather unceremonious heave of the shoulders. Letting Corvo sprawl out across the chair as he disappears again. It's only a little to the left; circling around the desk to pick through a dresser or two. From somewhere unseen, there's a rattling. Glass shaking against glass and Greed clicks his tongue.]
Gunna guess you're not about to hold a useful conversation - [The homunculus has a voice that's slick. Oily, like the very substance he yanked his would-be companion out of. It's slippery, but old. As if it doesn't match whatever age he's trying to pass as.] - sorry. Wish I had something better.
[He comes back with a small bottle clutched in his hand. It's stopped with a simple cork, of which Greed rips and tears out with his teeth. A spit to the floor leaves only a remnant behind. Gouged with too-deep incision.]
Gunna want to hold onto something. [But he doesn't even ask. Before he's got a fist-full of Corvo's hair and Greed wrenches his head back. The top of the bottle is quickly shoved under his nose.]
[It's a quick remedy. One he's seen dozens of times. And while he doesn't know what sal volatile really means, he figures it's better than nothing.]
[ Death, he's starting to think, is a more poorly defined state than anyone would think. It does not seem to have a definite edge, little more than a gaping chasm below his feet.
( and if, he were more capable of speaking, he would tell him, tell him about the day the stars would be devoured, that there was a hole in the world and it was going to consume, and he was going to fall and fall and fall).
But it was a little easier to not slip and stumble into it when he was the only person not holding himself off that edge. The chair too, he clung to the edges of it when it seemed to rock like the sea itself.
His head hung forward, as withered as any old tree, his skin ashen and his hair a mess stuck together. He was bent and broken, and there was no resistance there. There were children's dolls that probably put up more of a fight. It's a empty daze as he slips almost to unconsciousness again.
Then there is a smell and it's worse than death, smells like piss and blood and rotting things and he gags again. Wrenching against the grip in his hair, spluttering as painful new air came into his lungs. Shoving and pulling at whoever shoved whatever that foul smell was away from him.
His eyes opened, bleary and so utterly betrayed by the light he'd stopped calling friend some time ago. ] 'M awake.
[As soon as some life is shown his way, Greed releases. And not without a lull of a laugh either. The bottle is capped again, stored away under the thick leather hide of his jacket. It, too, is chased with sand and salt near the trailing edges.] Ha - ! You don't go down too easily, do you?
[Greed swipes his hand on his thigh, cleaning off the grease and grime from Corvo's hair. It's not a fix, not by a long shot. But it's a quick way to make sure he's not dealing with a corpse in the next hour or so. The Sin slips his foot next to the leg of the chair, catching it before it decides to dip and fall with the reckless misuse.] But you don't really heal like I do. [His thumb touches the side of Corvo's face, pushing the sea's grit away. It sounds rough in his ears and feels rougher still. Whoever the guy is, he's certainly been through a bit of hell.]
Must have pissed somebody off for them to go do that - [And there's the would-be devil, charming him right back. Greed eases away and catches a loop at the front of his own slacks. It's still nightfall and there's plenty to do.]
[But for now, it can wait.] What's your name? [He asks. Without question, without hesitation. It's the first test of a long string of them - if the guy can't answer, the next best option is to dump him where some sort of 'Doc can take a better look.]
[Though Greed already has a little bit of an investment, even if all the roads aren't too clear yet. He'd rather not take that fork if he doesn't have to.]
[ He leaned forward, breathing harshly as his fingers latched onto the side of the chair. Letting it rock back down on the ground. Feet planted firmly on the ground as he took in rapid breaths, trying to put him to this place, his mind to his body and his blood and his bones as things that did not just swim in the void. ]
I killed and -- [ his head turned with the hold, the could taste the sea on his lips. More of it in his lungs, the same bile you'd find in a ships hull. Rancid and old and not fit for consumption. ] -- never. Never went down easy, was supposed to. I was supposed to die first.
[ death babble, standing on the edge of the chasm and he shook his head like a rabid dog as he clung to edge of reality.
It takes time, it always does. Him, here, his name, who and what and not the void. Not the black eyes in the dark. Real, real as the river, as the poison, a the dead screaming his name. ] Corvo. [ he tried to swallow down the sea in his mouth. ]
[As he tells his story, Greed disappears again. He slithers around the bend, opening up another cupboard that rattles when he tries the hinges. Killing and murder; it always came back full swing. Stab one guy and he was bound to have a friend or two to seek revenge. It was and is why humans had been so easy to manipulate.]
[And why him and his were ordered to pull the strings.]
[It's also why Greed left, but that's not important. Not now, anyway. He snatches a bottle of brandy and his knuckles frame the cork ten and two.] Corvo, huh? [Pop it goes and the outer shell is flaky, the glass less than perfect. The Sin places the lip to his teeth and drags out a swig. It's longer than most, heartier than others. As if there's a thirst he just can't quench and only when he comes up for air, does he let out a loud, dramatic groan.]
Guess someone else had other intentions. [The liquor ploops and plops as he lets it swing at his side. Greed's slow when he moves. Sauntering forward, his thumb traces his lip to clean the residue over. The flavor is rich berry, dark with aged mahogany: a good blend despite the outer shell.]
[Though one really couldn't judge based on looks alone.]
[There's a squealing-skip as a box is kicked over. It flows across the dust, running a track that knocks a few books out of its path. The Sin takes it not a second later; spreading his legs out to settle down on top. The brandy in tow makes room between his legs and Greed leers forward. It's now that he can really see those haggard eyes, the lines on Corvo's face.]
[Greed's smile turns feral, dangerous. That want, need, desire - it's all there. Without hidden masks, without the need to lie. The truth of it just as naked and ugly.]
[He skates a nail down the edge of the bottle.] I have to give it to you - for a human, you're built pretty tough. [A stillness takes him as he sizes Corvo up. The guy could turn tail right then and there, but Greed doubts it.]
First thing's first - [The jug tips back, butt-end going to Corvo. It's a passing along, a silent gesture of mild camaraderie.] - then you can tell me your story.
[ He'd been told by the only one to love him, that there was an elegance to his name. A sleek thing, a black bird, but he knew himself to be little better than carrion now.
It's with the same eyes of a crow he stares at the liquior as it moves about in its bottle. He likes to drink more now, than he did before. But he likes food in the way only the half starved can appreciate, and it shows. He's starved in his soul and it's left him wanting.
At least before he looks up to the same hungry eyes, and he doesn't flinch from it. Only sucks in a breath and waits for whatever it is to come. ] Not all human. [ it's the simplest explantion, because he knows he's talking to one who seems to not be completely mortal either.
He isn't going to run, because he has no where to run to.
It's not the first time, he knows with a sardonic twist of his lips, that he's seen the dark and chosen to step into it instead. With ragged breath and the desperation that comes when you truly know you have nothing left in this world.
But he takes the drink, and swallows down a moutful like it was water. It clears his mouth and he shudders for how it burns. Better tasting than he'd had for months. ] Not much to tell, and it's all blood. [ it started with it, and he was sure it was going to end with it as well. ]
[Like the last handshake of the devil, Greed's fingers retreat. Giving a lick to the glass and stealing from it its shimmer. He lowers himself a bit more, spreads his thighs just a tad wider. Both elbows sag across his knees and he pecks into the small space between them.]
[Blood isn't a factor to make him uneasy. He's seen his share, done a few himself: murders. Killings. Mass genocide to tip the scale to a day far set in the future. But it was a future he wasn't a part of anymore. Buried and burned like the ashy flavor still lingering on his tongue.] Ah - [The homunculus raises his head, perked up ever so slightly.] - right. That's not how it really works, is it.
[He shuffles his boot over, walking it by the heel as he whirls about for inspection. There's a silver hook on the floor - probably used to seal an item or to break it wide open. Greed grabs it, shaking dust off as he goes.]
[He hands it over to Corvo.] Show me.
[An index goes to his throat, running down the dips. Touching and grazing the side of his neck.] You won't hurt me, friend.
[ The minute that hooked is picked up, there's a shift, running across his shoulders and down his arms. His hands are long used to weapons -- too used to them. His bones and skin moulded to that purpose. Not a truth he confessed, spoke of, but the burn scars had healed as if to set him. Sun bleached leather that set hard, fingers locked around a blade even if there was not one. Bones ground down from constant use, replaced by callous and vicious intent instead.
He has no grace, when he stands before. But as he reached for that hook from him, he is purpose. The glass is set down after it's drained down. One movement blending into another as he stepped forward to take it. ] I thought not, Shade. [ his tongue presses on the curve of his lips, parched dry by the salty air of the river. Cracked open and if he ever were to smile, they would split open and such a bloody grin he would have.
But he does not, and he is dry on words he does not feel a need to waste. Shade, maybe, just more poison talking. These dreams on the edge of death, nothing in them was right. Things he knew and did not know. Maybe this was real, maybe this wasn't, but he was every inch a man past caring. ]
There was an Empress. [ Full beautiful, and a void in her eyes, now in her voice and he says nothing. ] They sold her life and gutted her like a common woman, and she begged me. [ He is here, talking, and he is not, he is far off. Seeing things past, that cannot change. ] And since that day I wanted -- I wanted -- [ he does not say he loved her, that he had lost everything. There isn't a need, it shows and he cannot help it.
He steps forward, and Greed, this shade in front of him, is replaced. He dreams of blood, of vengeance until he made himself sick with it. A lovesick sheen on his skin and he took Greed's throat in his in a movement across the room that is too fast. The hook, glinting and silver and so beautiful with it was used, is held a loft, like it might cut a throat. The one before him and he leans in close, a sneer of pain on his lips, head tilting, half damp, mattered hair in his eyes, but it hides nothing. ] -- I dream'd every night of gutting them open, like they had her. [ blunt tipped nails sink in and he pants like he might want for the killing now, straining on the exhaustion of wanting it so much. ] And when I did, they who freed me, found I had no use anymore, and gave me poison in the way of thanks for what I had done.
[Greed's eyes hood at the visible shift. Like a slow-running electrical current going for a puddle of oil, Corvo's mannerisms are rare. Seen in the mortal lot when all other options were gone from the table. The slits in the Sin's eyes thicken, then narrow. Shivering with an interest as he keeps his body ducked low. However, he doesn't say a word. Just stark-still and the only movement that comes is that slow birthing of teeth.]
[But then, Corvo's talking. Similar to a drunk rambling on about an apocalypse he knows is coming. Everyone dismisses him: "Don't listen to him.""Crazy old fuck." Greed's heard the song played over and over and the truth of it all is that it's correct. The drunk knows, sees behind the curtains and points out the illusion. Everyone else is blind.]
[Still, this goes over his head and Greed's jaw goes slack.] Ah-? [Both eyebrows wrinkle his forehead as they climb. Not a word Corvo has to say makes sense. Least, not to Greed. A story that isn't his and never would be. There's no time to react, though. There's fingers around his throat, the sound of his heels dragging like a corpse that's about to be dropped. Greed's head smacks into the opposite wall, but he leaves his throat exposed.]
[And all the while, that smile never leaves. No, it grows in sharpness and a choked laugh hisses from his jaw like a gas-line broke.] - everyone wants something they can't have. Humans always think greed is for money, but that's not all.
[The blade doesn't come, the electric shock never bites. Instead, it's his companion's fingers in his skin, his exaggerated pants in his ear. The homunculus reaches out his hand, touching the wrist that's so close to ripping his throat apart.] What's good, what's taboo - to me, it's all good - [Greed purrs, almost too close that anyone could think it an intimate situation. He presses his forehead to Corvo's, forcing pale-tan skin against the other's sea-soaked brow.]
[In order to keep alive and stay alive, he knew he needed someone above himself. Someone who could take care of anything that came his way. Let's be real, there weren't a whole lot of people who Grit knew were above him in the rankings. This was a place that a human should not be and in order to, you know, not die, he had to find a way to actually be here.
Enter a seedy ass bar that he heard took in misfits. Okay so a human wasn't really a misfit, but it had to be worth something, right? At least he was trying to live.
The place was empty, and all that he could see was one man with slicked hair and a vest that made him look way too creepy for his own good. He walked right over and placed his hand on the table.]
Howdy. Are you hirin' for anything?
[Might as well make himself useful before he dropped the 'oh yeah please house me']
[Glass after glass, drink after drink. Late nights weren't unfamiliar for the bar in question and it was a busy one as always. As more flooded in, trickling from back-alleys and abandoned street corners. There was a mixed crowd at the head of the bar, pouring over their collective drinks; making an intelligible mutter hang in the air like the stale-stink of smoke that clung there.]
[And, as always, he was there to greet them.]
[Greed pitched a cloth into a deep glass, rubbing at it absently. He had been talking to someone else when a voice came through like a gunshot. Aiming for an intended target and his attentions were found easily. "You hirin' for anything?" The Sin paused, swiping a cat-calling grin right up his face.]
That depends - [A heavy dip of the eyebrow fell under his shades and Greed placed the mug onto the bar with a heavy thud. He nodded off to someone around back; a shorter man with a spiked-back haircut to match his own.] - but that isn't how it usually works, Chief.
[It was a silent exchange. Between himself and the other; two fingers held high, a beckoning motion forward. And they switched places - his partner taking the head and Greed slipped behind his bar. Trailing the length before slinking out the small-mouthed opening.]
Why don't we do this a little more privately. After all, there's a few things you should probably know. [Between the drafty curtains and the numerously-crooked hallways, there were eyes. Flicking as the would-be boss gave the signal. With a shrug of his shoulders and a toss of the hand, making his fingers spiral out one by one.]
I thought you might appreciate the forwardness. [He's not exactly one to wait patiently for something to happen. He chuckled a bit, leaning a bit closer to the man he's trying to take a job from.] Least back home, that's how it works. If not, I can change how I ask.
[He let's out a chuckle. Tipping his hat to the man as he started to follow. Ignoring any of the looks he may have been getting from anyone else for whatever reason. Of course, that didn't stop any chills from rolling down his spine. No matter how prepared he was for anything, he still wasn't mentally in check to be surrounded by demons all of the time.]
I think I can go along with that. [Letting out another chuckle, Grit moving to follow only two steps behind. He has to even slow down his pace due to his wide strides. And frankly, he doesn't want to get too far ahead of the man leading him.
Don't know what's down these halls.]
The name's Grit, by the way. [Flashing a smile.] Good to meet ya.
[His walk was slow-paced; making muscle roll, his shoulders sag. To the left and the right as headed for an unmarked door off to the side. A throw of a hand from his shoulder gave the signal and all of those eyes mulled about their business.]
[Leaving him and his would-be guest.]
[Greed threw the door open with a twist of the wrist. The next hallway was small, but well-used. Various booth closed off by curtains drawn and Greed trailed the row. Clicking and clacking as his heels thunked against the floorboards.] Sounds fair enough. Grit then.
[The sounds and conversations coming from the collection of sashed-off rooms didn't bother him. The mutterings between baited breaths and heavier hearts - this was the best way to conduct business, after all. Everyone and anyone usually kept to themselves.]
[It was why he chose the last room on the right. Peeling back a heavy-lined curtain as he slipped into a private booth. A heel went up onto the center table; smacking it with a loud crash as he gestured the other inside.] Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Grit. Doesn't seem like you're from around here.
[Lips parted. Showing off his set of knives and Greed formed comfortable into the back of the seat. Sprawling arm after arm out, letting his wrists sag on either end. As if he were king of the proverbial castle.]
[Which he was. But first - ] And then maybe you and I can be good friends, hmn?
Glad to see you like my name. [He lets out a small chuckle and strides along behind him. Not letting his eyes drift anywhere else, focused on the man he's supposed to be following. Because he's sure if his eyes go elsewhere, he's going to get lost. And dead.
Exactly what he's trying to avoid here.
He hears everything, however, and he's quickly questioning if he's made the right decision. He shuts his eyes and lets out a very low sigh, but carries on. There's no where else that would even potentially accept him so it's here as his very last chance.
Hopefully it's the only one he really needs.
They enter the room, and he slowly walks in, still wearing his coat and hat as he makes his way over towards the very private booth. Well well. Almost nice enough to sleep in. He lets out a whistle.] Nice place you got here. I think I could get used to this.
[He moved over to the booth and leaned against it. Sorry, he doesn't want to get caught in any bad deals. Hope you understand. He let's out a smile.] Well, you're right. I ain't from around here, that's for sure. [He lets out a chuckle.] I got myself nice and lost down here one day and it seems like I'm stuck here. And I'm sure you know the track record for a human in this place.
Fact I ain't dead yet is quite impressive.
[He leans forward with a smirk.] You have quite the impressive business here and was wondering if you could take on a human. I'd work for cheap in exchange for room and board. [His legs cross while standing, looking directly into Greed's eyes past his sunglasses.] I'm an easy learner too. I'll make it worth your while.
[There's a narrow inspection behind his sunglasses. Matched with the fanning out of his too-sharp teeth and Greed rolls his wrist across the outer edge of the table. Exposing his fingers one by one and it's entirely a show. Flashy and flamboyant with him as center stage.]
[As it should and always would be.] So who did you meet? That dim-whit Sloth? Or the hag, Lust? [The Sin tips himself to the side, letting those sunglasses fall just a tad. If the guy knows then those eyes of his should be familiar. Cut with a serpent's flavor and colored an eerie purple. His pupils thin out to needle points only to thicken again when a shadow passes by.]
I think you can figure it out - I'm not like the rest.
[Greed extends a hand outside the curtain before the passerby makes a get away. Snapping his fingers.] The usual. And a Side-Car for our friend here.
[The exchange is sort, sweet, and to the point. The woman only nods, thumbing her finger behind her as she passes on the drink order. Greed slithers his hand back inside, gesturing to the empty space in front of him.] There are plenty of humans here and plenty that just aren't.
I don't really care what you are Grit - as long as you work for me.
[The last word comes on strong. Like a hard brandy; thick, heavy with a buzz at his tongue. He lulls his head back, exposing the length of his throat. Which he runs a finger down in mid-thought.] Ah - [A snap of the thumb brings him back.]
Let's just say I've heard some things. Y'know. As most people seem to.
[A show that Grit doesn't find appeal in. He doesn't get dazzled by anything too flashy. Frankly, simple is best with him. Too bad most clueless people don't get it.]
Neither. Although if that lady with the show breasts was Lust... well, she probably does her job right for men who like that. [He wasn't always straight forward himself. But it should be even simple enough for Greed to figure out. He lets out a small chuckle.] No. You're nothin' like anyone else I've met in my life.
[Whether it's good or bad, that's hard to say. Also, he'd like to say what he usually drinks but he imagines that Greed knows best. In that the beer here is probably shit. So he'll take whatever he gets. He leans forward and chuckles.] I'll get along with everyone if they get along with me. [Humming lightly.]
Greed? Sounds appropriate for you.
[Letting out another laugh.]
So... what kind of work would you like me to do then? If you're so kind to take me on as an employee. I'm curious.
Usually when someone hears things like that, they don't spill it so easily. [Or they never get the chance to, he fails to mention. The six left are ruthless. Cunning and tenacious - if anything, the Sin's surprised the guy made it all the way to Dublith without being torn apart for knowing too much.]
[Still.]
[Greed flashes daggers when Grit starts the name dropping.] She's not one to let anyone go. Not that easily. [But charms only work so much. For men hungry to the appeal - Grit's right: Greed can easily read the fine print.]
[Those charms and tactics won't work if the guy just isn't interested.]
[The homunculus barks, throwing his head violently back with a snap.] Ha - ! Flattery will go you no where, friend. [Weight shifts as Greed throws his ankle over the opposing knee. It's easier to dip forward like this - pressing his face, his hand a bit more into the barrier separating himself from his would-be guest. Light catches in his sunglasses as he leers in. Churning, circling, then gobbled in those inky-black shades.]
Depends on what I need done. [His lips press back together and he coils one inside to wet.] All I need is a little loyalty. Room and board is covered, but - [Index goes sky high before the Sin cocks it at the wrist.]
- you work for me. That means you'll be one of mine. Sure you're still interested?
I'm multi-talented. I don't let things go without hearing them first for myself. [He's a heavily wanted man. If people knew of his knowledge, of course he'd be deader than a door stop. So hiding out was probably the wisest idea. Thank god there was a place. If it all went well.]
Then men fall too easily for her. [He grins and leans forward a bit more, looking right into those shades.] It's too bad she didn't have another form to use. She might have caught me that way. But not everyone can be so smart, right?
[The thing is, if Greed's name were Lust? Easy pickings. There's a heavy sexual tension from Grit's side and if he didn't think it would cause trouble, he would be acting on it right now.] Aww, it won't? Then all my previous plans have been ruined. [He chuckles and moves to sit up on the table a bit more, sliding his hands over to where Greed's body is.]
So long as it's not too hard, I think we can make this work. [The laugh he gave off clearly stated he was joking... right? Sure. Whatever got him in. He reached over and slipped those sunglasses off onto the table to look right into those beady eyes. Getting nice and close into almost a staring contest.]
If you don't sell me out, I'm interested. Just give me some good work to do.
[Greed unfurls his hand, hovering it just at the frame of the glass. He lets Grit explain himself; how it was he had such incriminating information and yet stood in the flesh. Living, breathing, without a mark to his name. Most weren't so lucky.]
[Scratch that: no one was so lucky.]
[The tips of his nails skip across the side of his drink. Caressing at the droplets, smearing them to thinner beads. The Sin leans back a bit, his foot bouncing on the cliff-side of a knee. A grin chases his jaw, opening lips to reveal the wet-slick points of his teeth.] Most do. Her charms didn't work then.
[Not that he cares. Greed makes that clear with a shrug of the shoulder.] I don't really give a shit about that. What's good, what's wrong - you humans are so quick to judge. [Though he doubts Grit has a pointer finger ready. To cast opinions, to draw lines. He came all the way here; it'd be pretty stupid to start.]
Oh-? I'm sure we could work something out. [Behind his sunglasses, a reptilian glance flickers. Pinging to the closeness that Grit made all by himself. He whistles, a bit impressed by the sheer blatant disregard, and he unfurls his legs.] Now why the fuck would I sell you out? You came to me, friend.
[Greed doesn't move when fingers grab his shades. He doesn't even flinch when Grit boldly takes them off. His eyes are slits; expanding and retracting to that needy beat of his. To a thirst that's tangible; that's as dry as a desert desperate for a drink.] The question really is -
[A dip has him closer, a breath has him near. With pointed razors ready to bite and nails used to leaving a scratch or two.]
[He laughs at the comparison to other humans, sliding a bit more on the table.] I've been judged plenty before. It's not somethin' I like to return the favor on, if you catch what I'm sayin'. [He shrugs his shoulders and keeps the distance small. Greed doesn't scare him much. The distance between the two of them is small and sweet and if he so wishes, he could steal Greed's breath with one swift move.]
[But he currently doesn't wish that. At least, not at this moment.] Y'never know with people. One moment they're your friends, kissin' up to you and promising you'll stay friends forever, and the next, they'll send you down the river to get ahead in life. [He taps the table with a fist, sliding completely on it now and swinging around to be right in front of Greed, legs hanging in between his. He slides the drink to the side and runs his hands up into Greed's dark hair.] I'm still figuring you out.
[He breathed down a bit, breath heavy from being close like this and seeing Greed's dark little eyes. He can't connect with them. But he's not here for a connection. He's here to stay alive. But he's also here to gather his own information.]
My job is information gathering. Now, working here, a bartender position might work best...
[But he grins and takes a drink of Greed's booze.]
But... I imagine you don't have any men to service the men like me here. Why don't I do that for you? And take care of what needs to be taken care of, if you catch my drift. It ain't ideal for me, but I guarantee I'll make it work.
[The hands in his hair beckon out a coy grin, a heavy look. Greed leans into the touch, unafraid and none-too-bothered by the crossed-line. The drink's abandoned not too soon after and his fingers run down across the table, leaving behind two watery smears.] Maybe not with people, no. Humans are unpredictable. You'll find I'm a bit different.
[When Grit's practically in his lap, Greed's thighs spread on instinct. No, it's not his first choice. Not when there's plenty of women ready and waiting. But it isn't as if he's about to complain; absolutes. Rights, wrongs - they don't apply to him.]
Information, huh? You'll find that a lot of it passes through here.
[Via a drunken slur or a good tip. Between the whining confessions or something else. Information is a commodity he's got full territory of. And those that know just what really lurks in the south-side of Dublith are quick to bring it.]
[Greed plants his elbows behind him. A gesture that doesn't need any explanation: he doesn't intend to touch - not when the other is so willing to ease into him. To swallow up any sort of comfort and force the door wide open.]
[Instead, he raises an index lazily up.] And eventually, all of that comes back to me. [From Central, from the North. The word of the underworld is quick and easily preyed upon.] You guarantee it, huh? [Finally, he leans forward. Threatening teeth oh-so-close to Grit's throat.]
Hope you can keep that promise. I'm not interested in someone who isn't loyal - or someone who plans on trying to trick me out of what's owed. If that works for you - [His wrist turns, his fingers fan out, and the rest of his sentence falls away with purring hum.]
Sure sure. That's what all guys say but no one delivers.
[Hey, he may like women but so many guys could say that. And let's face it, he could easily fill that gap where there just wasn't enough. Sure, Greed probably could have anything with any woman but hey, they weren't here. So they weren't currently enough to get Greed to call one in. He runs a finger over his chin.]
Why let it pass through? When there can be a toll on it. Make some more money, Greed.
[He laughed, moving his hand over Greed's leg and moving closer. Not that they could be much closer. They're practically sharing breath at this point as he rubs skin with him. Greed doesn't need to grab and touch, and frankly, he kind of hopes his partner takes a hands off approach to their first time.]
I guarantee it. Or your money back. [He chuckles and moved in... slipping down to his neck to give it a suck, a hand moving down to unzip his pants reaching in to give him a little rip.] And it works. Probably. I'll let you know if I make good money. Deal?
["That's what all guys say but no one delivers." Greed's smile smolders at the idea and his eyes hood. His hand opens up near Grit's head, feathering out each finger to pull down on the silver connecting his sunglasses together. He removes them with a ginger touch, folding the earpieces together one by one. Glass clips and he ushers them onto the table as an afterthought.] I always hold up my end - just depends on you.
[Greed tips his head as his partner runs a line at his throat. His teeth exposed, he merely watches the other. An elbow falls back to the crook of his seat and he opens wide. To the touch, to the prying. An attention he can step to just fine, the homunculus reads it for what it is. If Grit wants to take the plunge, he'll let him.]
[His heel taps back, bringing the curve of his boot upward.] You guarantee it, huh? Ha - ! I like you. [The lips at his neck aren't an unfamiliar sort. Rough, cracked, with a brush of stubble. There's no question to what Grit is and so what. The Sin slouches backward and his head moves aside to give the other all the room in the world.] I'm not interested in selling you off - that's just not my style. But if you want to work that kind of business, just remember: I don't let anyone take what's mine.
That means, my business comes first. [Not to say he wouldn't take care of the other. Far from it. It's merely a warning - if Grit should turn tail and run, if he should decide to bring trouble, Greed won't hesitate to make sure he knows what's what.]
[The opposite is true as well, should anyone be stupid enough to try something. Greed closes one eye and his lips seal to a line.] It's a deal. But first thing's first - [His skull lulls back, forcing Grit to meet him eye to eye.]
[The radio's still playing. Lulling out a slow-note guitar and a singer talking oblivion. It's heavy on the tongue, wet like a wad of tobacco spit and the lights above flicker as they sway on the momentum's aftermath. Most of the patrons have fled by now - running out the door as soon as the blows came.]
[Leaving just him and his.]
[Between the pulse-beats, the real damage can be seen. The blood across the back-mirror of the bar, now cracked with spidery edges that threaten to fall to the floor with any hitch of breath. The splintered wood overhead just hanging with a groan.]
[But that really isn't the important part.]
Ah- now, that wasn't very smart.
[Greed's voice is an echo. Between the warped-maw of his jaw, which is hanging by the basic threat of a tendon. Half of his face is reforming, spindling fingers of muscle and flesh as that wicked-red electric sparks. Muting out the dim-overhang of the lights above as he rolls his head straight. Through the gaping side, the movement of his tongue is grotesque. Testing it while bone and skin reforms under the eerie pulse.] Here I thought we could do things peacefully.
[A hand glides across the prep-part of his bar, smearing a streak of blood with it. But he's already got his talons up; all hairs raised and his grin is anything but pleasant. Still smiling, but dangerous. Greed grinds his teeth as he rocks a shoulder back with a resounding pop.]
[kamui is watching his face be restored into the mask that it was once with slight annoyance. 'mask', and yet - it was all the man had, and it was all that he took pride on, for all the humanness it contained, and there's something to be envied about that when kamui had nothing. an oil slick of faces, that's what he was, and not having what greed easily had was grating at the back of his mind, a bitter taste at the tip of his tongue.
he wipes his hands on a napkin on one of the untouched tables, gingerly going over each finger. being kamui means not having to be confined with the kind of regular violence that greed was so used to, blasting vermin left and right was his privilege to claim. and yet - occasionally - he gets a little dirty, because kamui is also a brat, and there are things he feels that are due to him, regardless of how unjust that is.
such as the claiming and taking of faces.]
I doubt it. [he says pleasantly.] What is annoying, however, is your little trick.
[wires snake quickly around greed's limbs, choking joints and moving into bone and muscle and solidifying along with his skin.]
[With the onset of wires, Greed tilts his head back. Grinning wild and those pupils of his dilate. Flicking between sharp points and thicker lines; he can feel the foreign objects pressing into his skin and his own core working to get them out. Violent beats of red hissing and crackling in his ear and he chokes out a soft laugh.]
Sorry to disappoint but unlike the rest, I actually come back.
[The tips of his claws flutter as he finds them. Clicking and clacking off the hardened shell of his palm and the Sin arches his head forward. Meeting Kamui face to horrible face. Despite the predicament, that snide grin is still present. With the pull-back of his upper lip, as if daring the other to jump first.] Not really interested in that type of business. Or did you already forget after all this time?
[One eye widens with a wicked look. Feral as he strains against the snaking wires around him. Forcing his body forward even as he hears bones snap and crunch; as skin peels and reforms with trembling electric. Greed closes his lips up, letting his smile grow to a faint line even as a bead of blood slides down his chin.]
But here we are - it's foolish. You can't beat me like this, friend.
[Those jaws open wide and the jagged edges of his teeth are stained red one second, cleaned white the next. With a swallow, a swipe of the tongue.]
[It's all that comes out. A spit-sputter of a noise as blood gurgles up his throat and Greed's eyes roll into the back of his head. The wires do the trick, as expected; turning skin to threads, rendering muscle and bone apart like the unfurling of a well-knit rope. The momentum leaves the body to hit the ground and a wet and ominous thud follows.]
[But the hissing of his current starts not too soon after. Spiraling out in lines that arc and snap against the ceiling. As if combating the electricity already running through the joint and there's a solid clack. Then another.] Oi, oi, oi -
[He doesn't sound amused. Even as he tries to stand, stumbling left and right like a drunkard on the town. His body is mending, but not quickly enough.]
- that's not very nice, friend. [Greed slowly rises from behind the bar. A fiend from the grave and his mending limbs are a mess of exposed tissue. Muscle that intertwines back against itself like the most terrible sort of puzzle.]
[the bits of electricity that slither all over his limbs were interesting, and kamui wonders at their power. he decides to play a game: every time his body moves towards its centre, kamui pushes them apart again with his power.
he points a hand towards him, willing the pieces to slow down and stay apart as the wires move and twist and rend.]
[What comes out of him is a gurgling sort of noise. As if he's surprised that he's actually choking on his own blood. The shock in those ghostly-purple eyes tell a different story: contempt, regret. Mockery and maybe, just maybe a hint of something else. A deadly sin best left unsaid due to its connotation.]
[Wrath.]
[The lights go out and Greed's eyes finally roll back into his skull. Showing white as his limbs are removed. For a while, it seems like the silence will last a lifetime.]
[But from the torn words, the pulse strikes. Jerking wildly as fingers of red cut and coil. A light bulb shatters from above, then another.] You -
[Greed's voice is a spit. Making the blood at his lip bubble and pop. But as he lifts his head, that grin of his is easy to make out. Even with the blood making those too-sharp teeth stain the same color that's lighting him up. Making the shadows on his face stretch and etch his skin. He swallows audibly.]
- ha - ! [The laughter is sickening, his grin even more so. The wires seem to be slowing the process, but the core of his rings true. Jointing bone back together in square-cut shapes that are hardly natural.]
Then - [Greed's expression is wild. Feral in nature and design as his fingers jerk. Mimicking that of a dead rattle.] - what's your point. [Not a question, but a spat-back statement.]
They always met at the same time. When the sun gave up its light; when the moon returned the favor. Time seemed to still at this hour. Doors were locked, flames were lit. Windows were latched, though that never ended up being much a problem.
Not for him, not for the other. And certainly, she always made sure to keep the handle just a little bit loose.
The window to the balcony swayed open. A light breeze took it the rest of the way, making it bang and flap uselessly against the adorning frame. The air was a chill-cool. Wafting in from a far-off shore that smelt of salt still thick from the day; with the undertone of sticky oil holding. And like the very substance, he came. Birthed from a blackness that he seemed to adore. It crept into his everything - the leather on his legs, the bend of his boots. To the shivering-sharp spikes of his hair.
A criminal to most, a monster to some, and the devil in this would-be meeting of unlikely bed-mates.
Greed ran his fingers down his chest, raising his head to take a look inside. He chased the furthest reaches of the wall. Following where moonlight touched him, turning him an ashy gray. This was the way it had to be; the way she silently demanded it to be. A place of solitude and scheming.
Of which it was a private party of three.
A sliver of gold was pulled from his pocket: his calling card. The coin was small, smooth. Rough at the edges. He placed it on the corner of a desk in plain sight.
Some people were natural sneaks, natural creepers in darkness and shadow. They could be at home in it, at one with it, but that was not true of everyone. Some people hid in plain sight; they blended in with the crowd.
But others could hide at the center of that crowd, at the center of attention, and he was one of them. He was not someone able to wait quietly or arrive secretly.
He was not carried on a salt-rich air from the sea, air that smelt of tar and oil and sweat. He arrived on a breath of sugar-sweetness, on air warm from the bakers ovens, on honeyed over-tones and the hint of vanilla spices. And he'd arrived hours ago, laughing and drinking and telling stories under a high-roofed hall, hidden in plain sight.
Now darkness had well and truly fallen however, and his companions had taken themselves to bed- theirs or someone else's, or settled onto the floor in content stupors, he was free to go as he pleased. He moved as if he owned the place, a certain swagger in his walk as he headed down corridors, slipped through doorways and up stair-cases. And then he was there, a familiar door with it's familiar tapestries on either side, and despite the best advice in the land, unbarred.
It would always be trickier for her in some ways, to slip away. Not that there were more or less demands on her time, simply that she was so very constantly surrounded by people, but friend and foe. They watched her, constantly. One little misstep was enough to them, she knew.
It made her bold most often, if they were going to look, she would give them something to look at. She must glitter and shine and be as much like staring into the sun. Which most often, was tiring if grand, but it had some benefits. Queens did not skulk, did not hide themselves away.
The expectation meant she slipped by guards easily enough. Hood pulled down and her red, red hair tucked away. She did not look so much for confirmation as she simply knew they would be there. The door pulled free, and she stepped through. A smile playing quietly as she pulled back the hood, content for however long to simply be away from responsbilities. "Good evening." The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned on it. Content for a moment to do nothing more than look at them both. "I see I am last again, as usual."
It smelled sickly sweet; the way the three of them entered, all from different corners, different lives. The rich trickle from Gabriel, the subtle waft of the hourly Queen. And him. Greed peeled away from the shrink of shadow, his toothy grin the only thing giving him away.
"It's not like we don't have the time, lovely."
He stepped without a whisper. Every clack of his heel an announcement, a punctuation. It was the practiced waltz of a predator - of a creature that lived for the underbelly. That was trained on instinct to hunt and hunt he did. But not like his kin; not like the one who had made him. Instead, Greed slunk like a feline in waiting. Shoulders dipping and rising as he spine easily loosened. He touched up the leather of his thigh, running streaks that groaned against his rough-smooth fingertips.
They intersected like the triangle they were and Greed made the last point. An acute shape that could have been symbolic. A thumb fell loosely into the loop of his slacks, then the other. As flame caught in his sunglasses. Licking at the black glass before racing across the stark-silver trim. "And we don't exactly have unwanted company," Greed charmed from his throat. He could easily slip away from business and no one questioned. No one dared.
They knew that the boss had business on the other side of town. And it wasn't something to pry too deep into.
The homunculus raised his chin, seizing the opportunity to flick a glance between the powers. The arrangement was simple, the entanglement anything but. They were a trifecta; a struggle of rising powers that somehow found a common goal.
Oh, you could make a case for it being complicated, you could say it was tricky, even, but for Gabriel it was the simplest thing in the world. He enjoyed their company. There was a little back-scratching going on, sure, but that's what you did or you might find yourself without any of the blankets next time they found themselves together.
"Glad you could slip away, Queenie." Gabriel said brightly, moving towards her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It's never exactly the same without you." Maybe in that dim light she noticed the wink, maybe not, but it was implied with his teasing tone.
There was something to be said about this meeting in darkness, the room barely light. All this sneaking around might have been better suited for people whose purposes weren't exactly kosher, but although there was the embodiment of Sin, Greed wasn't exactly evil. And Gabriel thought that he pretty much balanced it out. Having a Queen along for the ride- one that was Head of the Church too- probably tipped this little meeting into the realm of almost saintly.
...Depending on exactly what those saints got up to, of course.
"And now we three are here," Gabriel said, grinning. "I'll get the drinks. Usuals?" Wine for her, rich and deep and old but not too dry, something fit for a Queen. Scotch for him- something with a kick, a bite that he could bite back, something that got those feet tapping. And for himself something sugary sweet, thick. Not that it said much about him.
Years. He had been here for years. Watching as mankind changed; as wars he had no interest in came and went. Progress marched on and he watched it go. As villages turned to cities, as cities expanded to stretch high, high, high. People came, people went.
Yet he was still there. Without a hitch of change on his face, without a single scar of time to his name.
He didn't forget, either. The memories of a life long-since passed, the last moments still lingering. But as the years slipped away, old wounds healed and eventually, it was like old times. In a bar settled deep within the heart of an old city, the neon lights buzzed on. The old, familiar crowd followed. Creatures that lost themselves to myth and legend, humans who could find no where to belong. Some came in passing, others stayed. Telling stories of heaven and hell; of hunters that would soon follow.
Not that he particularly cared.
2015 came in the same whirlwind of celebration as the last. New York, with its infamous ball-drop, called more than the usual and the bar had been more crowded in the weeks before. Some drunk away to forget the yester-years, others drank for things to come. And still, he was just there. Taking and spinning them for all they were worth.
A devil by a different name.
Greed casually flicked the bar sign on, listening as the electric hum sounded off through the panes of glass. New York had become his final resting place and he had seen it all; the vast expanse of Europe, the deep south. And in his search, he had swindled them all: of cash, of information. Only to disappear to the next, mapping a trail that led him straight back: New York.
The city that never slept; the city that held enough information to keep his attention.
The Devil's Nest was quiet by late afternoon and the Sin pressed his hand into the back of his skull. He forced his palm to the dip of his neck, making his skull lull to the side with a lazy crack. A groan escaped him; hushing out of his lips as he let his arm sag to the side with a boneless fall.
No, the years didn't matter. The place didn't matter. In the end, it was the same: business. His business. And for a creature who wanted it all?
There were places like this everywhere. Places where the different came. There was a place called the Briers in London, underground and full of werewolves, for the most part. There were dark dens in Paris and in Rome, there were those in Delhi carefully warded to escape the judgement of the gods. China was dotted with them, and he could name at least three in Tokyo alone (apparently the demons there didn't like to mix with anyone else after hours). And even the new world had them.
New York was not a city he spent much time in. There were a lot of monsters there- human for the most part- and if he started trying to tidy up, he'd never actually finish. New evils would creep in, as they always did in cities, and he'd never get to leave again. But sometimes a little sight-seeing trip was well worth the effort of dragging himself away from small-town America.
He'd heard of The Devil's Nest. It wasn't a very original name, but it fit, so Gabriel supposed the owner could be forgiven. Not that he'd ever met the man. And he used that term loosey. Still, when in New York, The Devil's Nest was the place to visit. If only because you heard news there, and since his so-called death, Gabriel had been desperate for news. He's had a little, form time to time, enough to drop in once or twice on the Brochesters and little Cassandra, who seemed to be fucking things up well by themselves.
Of course, Gabriel couldn't exactly make himself obvious anymore, which meant all his tricks had been drastically down-scaled. And that meant he was bored. B. O. R. E. D. Bored.
So maybe, he guessed, hanging out in a place like The Nest would be good for him. And even if he didn't find any new projects to keep him entertained, there would be gossip. And even if there wasn't gossip (and what sort of bar didn't have gossip?) then he was sure he could entertain himself some other way. He did enjoy watching fights start, after all.
It was already busy when he arrived. It was an old fashioned sort of place, more like a Tavern than a bar, even by New York bar standards- but he supposed this place had no reason to follow human fashions and trends. So Gabriel shifted his way through the knot of other patrons, and found himself a seat at the bar, off to one side. Unlikely to be bothered by drunks and more importantly with a great view of the rest of the bar, perfect for eavesdropping.
Though despite the rumors, whoever was manning the bar? Seemed to be missing upon Gabriel's arrival. The crowd was no-less packed than any other night; a few lingered in the recesses, their yellowing eyes and sour teeth glinting with disapproval once the angel arrived. Whether they knew what he was or not, it was hard to tell. More likely than not, it was the feeling. Of a bigger and badder fish entering a quickly-filling pond.
A small strum of music beat on, the tune tinning through the aged speakers. The words and the tune drifted in and out of muddled conversations, though a few lines crept in once in a while. Weaving between the hollers and whispers, it came: "You have admired, every man desires. Everyone is king when there's no one left to pawn-"
And as if right on cue, a shout drowned it out. A loud crack run right through. As one of the patrons came crashing onto the bar top, his arms flailing uselessly over the edge. He was decked in the typical biker motif - leather vest, bandanna wrapped snug around his shaved-bald skull. The man sputtered, reaching to his belt to pull at a switch blade.
But he was promptly stopped and finally, a voice came crawling from behind the bar. "Oi, oi, oi - " The tone was baritone thick, low. Drumming through a set of vocal chords as the sickly-yellow light illuminated the source. It was like he came out of now where - with a sinister-cat grin and sunglasses that gave the look of hollowed-out sockets. Greed leered over the face of his bar, practically oozing forward as he held the offender's hand by the wrist. Nails dug into the flesh, gesturing the grip away from the preferred weapon. "-now, that's not very nice. Pulling something like that."
The homunculus leaned over the man, meeting him eye to eye. It was enough to have the other release his grip and the weapon hit the floor of the bar with a deafening click. Greed pressed in closer, uncomfortably so. "Leave your money and go - I'm not interested in the trouble." Which seemed to be enough for the man in question. He snarled once at the Sin, but second-guessed himself a minute later. A few back-treading clicks of the heels sent him off, the front door banging on its hinges as he went.
Where there was silence, the crowd filled back in. A bit quieter now with the excitement come and gone. Greed oozed backwards, his hands slipping under the bar as he took grip of a bottle between the spaces of his knuckles. He lifted his chin, noting the other at the end of the table. Not a face he recognized, but that wasn't all too surprising.
Still, there was something. A feeling that sung out to his tune-rotten core and called for one thing only:
Power and oh, wasn't he just wanton for it. "New in town, or just passing by?" The homunculus hummed, his nonchalance present with each ease and sag of his shoulder. The fur at his collar bristled as he moved; fanning across the back of his neck like some sort of bird in plume. "Guess it doesn't really matter, right?"
Two bottles came to the top of the bar and he pried them open with his knuckles, sending the caps chiming off the surface. He pushed the pair forward with a toss of the fingers, letting them slide on the collected sweat. "Sorry you had to see that, friend. Some people just don't know when to quit." Faceless hands pressed cash in exchange and he took it without hesitation; moving seamlessly over to roll and pinch the cold-hard coin into tight rolls. They, too, disappeared - shoved and pressed into the back-pocket of his leathers.
"So - " He started in, his voice trailing off. A slump forward had him chasing the length of the bar. Until he was close enough to saddle near Gabriel, his hip checking into the back-face of the bar.
Gabriel has been watching for the possibility of a fight hopefully. Bar fights are never really all that distracting- once you’ve seen one people spill his or her drink on someone else, and the person behind get accidently punched it all it becomes something of a farce. He’s watched people crash into pianos, into the bottles behind the bar, jesus into the bar itself or any mirrors available. People have tumbled through railings and had chairs smacked down on their heads. Even if it is repetitive, you can at least enjoy the finesse of a seasoned brawler and watch the newbies be put through their respective paces. That was what he was hoping for.
It’s only when a big dumb lug starts pulling out the knives that Gabriel normally leaves. Knives aren’t fun. Well, not in this sort of situation. But he has to admit that there is something about the way the man behind the bar deals with the scene that is impressive. No threat, no violence only the deep voice and the hint of disappointment. It makes Gabriel smirk, watching the grasp on the wrist. People talked about barely controlled power. This was the opposite. This was strength, not caged and muzzled, but so deeply combined into being that it was almost comparable with his own Grace.
His elbow rested on the wood of the bar, chin in his hand as the ugly oaf left, tail firmly between his legs. In Gabriel’s honest opinion, the man had got away lightly. He’d seen the muscle flex in the arm of the barman, and there was no doubt that bone could have so easily been broken. But maybe it was a waste of effort on someone so insignificant. And as the man had said, he didn’t want trouble.
Gabriel was still staring after the would-be-fighter as that self-same voice addressed him. He turned his attention back, properly looking at the barman now. The dark spiked hair, the sunglasses (in a dark bar? At night?) and the vest. The muscles he’d already noticed, but they seemed pretty obvious all over. Huh.
“Neither.” He replies, shifting on the stool. He wasn’t passing through, and he wasn’t new in town. He’d been here before, many times over the last couple of hundred years. Not on the way to anywhere, but just because the place existed, and there were humans there. But he smiles slightly as the man continues, “I’m guessing you get a lot of patrons that don’t fancy telling you exactly why they are here or how long they are staying.” It was often safer not to for many unusual people, after all.
The barman’s eyes remained on him, studying, and Gabriel wondered if he was being sized up and pigeon-holed. He didn’t look like much, perhaps. But he had a feeling that the man in front of him wasn’t human- well, he knew that. He couldn’t get a handle on his soul, for one. Creatures other than humans were tricky, even for an arch-angel. He moved closer, and Gabriel dropped his arm, sitting a little straighter. “I’ve seen worse, and so have you. What’s a bar without the occasional scuffle?” He said with a shrug. He’d seen nothing terrible, nothing that would make anyone wince and certainly nothing that would concern him.
The offer of a drink makes him smile though. “I guess you have rum?”
"Wouldn't be much of a place, though I'm not really keen on letting it get too messy," Greed replied, even as his hands idly went to work. A small glint of the teeth ignited up his jaw and his knuckles wrapped soundless around the neck of a rum bottle. It was hidden underneath, lodged deep inside the bar for safe keeping. "And no, I don't. But sometimes, people will surprise you. But you wouldn't be here if you didn't already know - this isn't exactly a place for the normal sort."
The rum bottle removed was old and definitely not from the current century. The faded label on the side painted a picture of a well-worn mermaid coiled around a barely-legible anchor. Greed flicked out an index and the tip coaxed to a smooth, black sheen. Where a nail used to a be, a crooked-talon shivered to a point. He twisted his wrist, slicing the metal clasp in one, quick motion. The butt of his palm pressed into the tinny cap, nudging it free with a sullen pop.
"Speaking from experience?" The homunculus collected the remnants of the clasp, bringing up and into his palm as the coating on his skin receded away. It crawled like oil, slipping down until it was only flesh and blood left. With his other hand, Greed flipped a glass out from underneath. The lip of it spun through his fingers, righting itself until he sat it down on the bar with a hollow thunk. "Not that I care - not about to deny anyone. Wouldn't really be me if I did."
From the bottle, a rich liquid flowed. Hefty, dark and spicy with age. It was probably bottled somewhere closer to the turn of the century. Before two wars split the world and a new order sprung forth. It still stood, a gift from the past. Greed filled the portion out to the brim, running his thumb across the edge of the glass to make it sing in a humming dissonance. "Ah, right - that's a little rude."
Greed sat the bottle down, cleaning off his hand with a swipe at his thigh. He touched his collarbone gingerly, bending a bit to make a mockery of a bow. And all the while, his grin spread; his eyebrows pressed. As the tips of his fingers scissored off his bones:
Gabriel smirked- his host was right on that point. This wasn't a place for normal people, of course normal was sort of a misnomer, because there really was no such thing. Still, there were people even more removed from the status quo that others. "That's what I heard. And I thought I might come find out for myself."
He watches the talon scratch, the pointed tip not only lifting the cap without any trouble at all, but leaving the smallest nick in the glass itself- no small feat and Gabriel is quietly impressed. Werewolf? No. He's meet enough of those to know the aura they radiate, and despite the coiled spring of power in the barman's muscles, there is too much control...
He shrugs at the question of experience. He knows he doesn't have to answer- not out of secrecy, but because he has the vague feeling that the man-shaped creature across from him is old enough to have seen some of the world, and be able to answer his own question. Once you get to a certain age, there aren't many surprises left and you know how things work.
Gabriel smirks at the bow, and gestures for Greed to come and join him. He briefly wonders if it's a nickname, a descriptive, but he doesn't ask. And for the moment, he doesn't provide a name himself. There's not need, for the moment, for him to be anything other than an anonymous patron.
"That looks like the good stuff. Join me for a glass." He offers. "And you can tell me know long this place has been here." Because that is something Gabriel is interested to find out. This bar seems timeless, like it sits outside of the current fashions and trends of New York and the wider world, but likewise, he's sure that it wasn't here the last time he was here. Then again, there were a lot of things that weren't here last time.
Greed's eyebrow raised when Gabriel avoided the question, but he didn't need to press the issue. Everyone in the 'Nest had a story and sometimes, it was better not to ask too many questions. Instead, he shrugged - sending one shoulder up lazily in a silent answer. He didn't need to know; wouldn't have to know. Whether or not the other man become a frequenter or not, secrets were secrets.
And secrets never came cheap.
However, his smile split as soon as the other coaxed him on. A flash of teeth riding up one side of his jaw, the twist of it more akin to an angler grinning in the deep, deep depths. He sent one hand up, his fingers twisting to beckon someone on cue. A woman came to his call, her lips thick and budding. She regarded Gabriel with a faint look of suspicion, then decided against it. The Boss knew what he was doing.
At least he did most of the time. "Take over lovely, got business to take care of," Greed charmed back in, his voice sickly-sweet and deadly. A purr held in his throat, riding on a long string of R(s) that stretched on for a few lingering minutes. He slipped past her, grazing the small of her back with his elbow. A warning, a gesture, a conversation:
Keep an eye out for trouble.
The bottle came with him, the neck of it swept up in the thick of his knuckles. He exited along the side, pushing the door ajar with a prod of his hip. A few sharp clicks of his heel and a sauntering walk had him at Gabriel quicker than expected and Greed took the seat closest. He saddled his heel into one of the rungs, reaching blinded behind him for a glass. "Hmn?" He perked, one eyebrow cocked above the frames of his shades. His lower lip sagged before he belted out a quick, hard laugh. It hissed from his jaws, as noxious as the smoke that lingered in thinning shreds overhead. "Longer than most," an answer, but vague.
The bottle tipped into the glass, the opening burping as liquor sloshed and slapped the inside of the glass. Filled to the brim, he sat the rest back down with a heavy thud. "-but if you really have to know, it's been about a hundred years."
[ Lightning silently berated herself as she was led through dark, dimly-lit hallways, the stone walls cold and damp to the touch, completely bare except for the occasional basic iron strut for a wooden torch. She doesn't know how far underground this cellar extends to, or if anyone could find her - if the church would even bother to attempt to rescue her. Had she'd been captured and brought anywhere else, they would had made some sort of attempt of a rescue, even if it was only for show. But here, in the heart of enemy territory, a prisoner in the dungeons of very headquarters? They'd probably written her off for dead and were preparing to send their condolences to her sister.
And it was her fault - a brief moment, where she had let down her guard, where exhaustion seeped into her bones and her focus wavered - only a moment, but that had been all they had needed. Even if she was a demon hunter, she was still only one woman, and she could only hold out for so long. Now she was their prisoner, arms bound behind her and pondering over the command given to her captors by their leader, as he had looked her over as she'd glared up at him, defiant and proud even in defeat, and his lip curled in amusement as he laughed.
Leave her with our other guest. I'm sure they'll enjoy each others company.
Who else was here? Lightning hadn't heard of anyone else being captured - at least, not captured alive. But her question is soon answered, as the knots tying her hands are loosened before she's thrown face first into her cell - which, to her surprise, is surprisingly spacious. Refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out, she still can't hold back a sharp grunt as skin scrapes against stone but that's enough to them. She hears them bark a laugh as the door behind her clicks shut, before their footsteps and harsh, barking laughter grow fainter and fainter.
There's someone in here with her, of course, and she tries to figure out who, while she works her hands free as her eyes adjust to the darkness, trying make sense of the shadows. Unlike her, as she slips free, wrists red and raw from the rope rubbing against them, they're still bound - and, it seems, the reason why the cell is so large. A massive crucifix towers in the room, made of either stone or metal; it's hard to tell exactly what, with its surface darkened with age and pitted with runes and inscriptions. And hanging on that stone cross, is a man - arms spread open, pinned to the object with heavy, steel chains, each link covered in painstakingly chiseled runes.
It seems rather overkill for a mere human - but as she pushes herself up from the stone floor, her hand brushes against a carved rune into the floor that flickers at her touch; the letters and shapes light up briefly, revealing the cell completely etched with symbols and letters of binding, disturbed as if she'd thrown a stone into a still pond, before fading back into darkness.
And she recognizes some of these runes and symbols, bits and pieces of inscriptions. She's used them in her work, in hunting her quarry and prey; to bind and trap them before ultimately destroying them. ]
Demon!
[ Lightning spits out the word as if it were a curse, springing to her feet as she reaches for a weapon that's no longer there to strike him down. Too late, she bitterly remembers that of course they'd stripped her of all her weapons; all she can do is crouch against the ground and glare at the bound devil, looking as if she'd love to spit in his face. ]
[The links of chain are slick and damp. As they shift amorphously in the dark, like a swarm of eels writhing in the after muck of a midnight low tide. The smell this far down is rank with sulfur and earth, the pungent taste of wet permeating through without a foreseen source. Where ever she is, where ever they are, its far below ground and deeper still than most man made structures would allow.]
[Something buried, something hidden. And all for one purpose only.]
[The sudden jolt of the runes is what alerts him first; sparks of light run across the length of the cross, only to dart in a horizontal line. Similar to fire following a trial of gunpowder, the abysmal red brightens then fades. It temporarily hones his jagged features that much sharper before shadows take him again, washing back in as the faint hum vanishes with one last sputtering hiss.]
[Greed doesn't know how long he's been down here. Days, months, years. His joints are stiff with disuse. He can feel the slight twitch in his fingers, his senses rebooting once again. The chains are his throat feel clammy against his skin, but as he slowly crawls out of his half-dazed stupor, the metal links start to sizzle. Threatening protective magic against his own, insatiable want.]
Now, that's not very nice - [The Sin answers in a drawl. His voice is airy and loft; the vocal chords finding themselves with the prolonged disuse. He tests his wrist as he speaks, twisting it until the chain link finally constricts his movement to a still. It's then that his eyes ease open and the color is telling of what he really is; a deep purple, faded with a haunting kind of hue. They blare through the dark and light spills against the pale-tan color of his skin. Greed lulls his head to he side, the chains rattling and tightening to the pull: the charm of Marley's ghost.]
- but you're right. Though, I figured you wouldn't really hold it against me. It's not like they gave you much of a choice either and I'm gunna guess it's pretty safe to assume you aren't working on their side. Did I get that right?
[The instinct to grab for a weapon gives her away, her placement in the cell only adding to the fact. Either she's done something to upset the higher ranks or, more than likely, she's from an opposite faction. Walking too close to a den of wolves and now, here they are.]
[The demon tests his binds again, listening as metal clinks and clacks. A sharp hiss cuts through the static, the four blades lodged expertly into his body shivering as his own electrical current tries to fend off the intrusion. The action proves to no avail; whoever placed him down here knew what they were doing. A weak point, the proverbial Achilles heel and they found all four.]
[He turns his head down to look at her again, a small grin slicing a line of white in the dark. The lids of his eyes fall heavy, his expression sultry despite the obvious predicament.] Before you start getting any wild ideas, I'm not like the rest. Try not to do anything too brash, hmn?
[A droplet ploops in a puddle nearby; a rat answers with a shrill squeak. Greed rocks his shoulder, feeling it press and stiffen against his stone slab.] So - what's your name, lovely?
[ If there's any doubt that they might had chained up a perfectly ordinary human deep underground, it's all chased away the moment he opens his eyes. There's no mistaking the color, even in the dim shadows of their cell; it takes her breath away at first, almost sucked into the deepest, richest purple that any human could ever imagine. If she were lesser willed, a weaker woman, perhaps she would had - but she catches herself, silently turning her mind away from the promises and hints his smoldering gaze holds. ]
I'm not anyone's lovely.
[ Especially not yours, the unspoken words hanging disdainfully in the air. Her fist clenches around the hilt of a gunblade that's not there, as if she'd like nothing more than to strike him down for his boldness, but she straightens herself with the natural grace of a fighter although she doesn't relax. Even with Greed both physically and magically restrained, she remains cautious, tense as a coiled spring, ready to strike at a moment's notice, matching his gaze with her own, a hard and steely ice blue stare. ]
You can call me Lightning.
[ Not her real name of course, like she'd give a demon that - but she'd thrown away her old name when she was forced to leave her childhood behind, to quickly fit into the role that she'd been abruptly thrust into as both caregiver and breadwinner for her and her sister. And so she had chosen 'Lightning' - a strong-sounding, tough name her younger self had thought. ]
So what's yours?
[ Her fingernails dig into her palm as it takes all her control to force herself to speak to him with the barest drop of civility. There's nothing else that she'd like to do more than to heap scorn upon him, accuse him and judge him guilty for the sins he and his brethren have done to humanity, as anyone other hunter surely would had done; that or bite out their own tongue than suffer his presence any longer. But she's trapped here, in the heart of enemy territory, with no hope of rescue - and she can't stay here, as her sister's smile flashes across her memory.
She couldn't leave her sister, not like their parents had. ]
And I'm guessing that you're not their friend if they've got you down here like this.
Ah- [An airy sigh escapes him. Churning from deep down in his own proverbial pit as his head jerks and twists to the side. The cool charcoal-black at his throat throbs in thin veins of gold - dim still, but ever-waiting to catch again. The Sin smiles warily and his teeth are more like that of a well-nourished shark; each slipping and sliding into the next in an eerie, white procession.] - right. That was rather rude, wasn't it? The name's Greed -
[A drop of water hits the chains, sizzling on contact. Greed's eyes close shut with a slow, smarmy expression. He hasn't had company in quite some time and the only ones that even dare to come this far down are ordered to do so. Or they have something more to gain. Only once has he had a visit that wasn't on schedule and that had been taken care of swiftly and unjustly. The execution done right outside the chamber door. That had been some time ago, though.]
[To have another prisoner down here, well. That only meant that things up above had taken a turn somewhere.] That's right. You catch on quick. [When he lowers his head, the slick black on his forehead and arms is a little more noticeable. Like paint smears in sharp, rectangular patters - they map out where two sets of horns used to be. Cut off, most likely a jab when he first was thrown into the dank prison. A word of warning: "If you're not with us, then we'll make sure you look the part."]
[Greed snaps his tongue and the chains slither yet again. Despite the momentary lapse, his glance is unyielding and one eyebrow shoots up in a silent response. As if somehow, he saw that smile - if somehow, every thought was as clear as day.] So that's it, huh. Sorry, couldn't help but notice. [His neck bends, offering him a better look-see. The bindings around his throat tense when he gets too far, earning a slight grunt.] There is a way out, y'know.
[Of course, the way out comes at a price. And that's all too clear with the Sin's expression - as his mouth widens, glinting in an grin like the Cheshire just waiting, waiting, waiting. "Didn't see me Alice? Oh, so sorry, so sorry. Why don't we see just how far this rabbit hole goes, hmn?"]
I've got a proposition for you, lov - [Greed swallows and a curt-cut laugh hisses from his teeth. It trails off in a twiddle; as the forks of his tongue rattle and vibrate against the smooth-side of his jaw.] - Lightning. You get me down and I'll show you the way out. Equivalent exchange. [A loud snap sounds off, his thumb connecting against the underside of his palm. Like a match to a box, his curved talon scrapes and sparks.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
● her hair was long, her foot was light, and her eyes were wild.
[ She knew better than to be here.
A thousand times and a thousand ways, she knew better than to be here. But no one had forced her to write the letter that arranged -- yet another -- meeting with him.
Here, being the secluded back her gardens. Stone walls and roses set against them. The lantern flickering on the ground and casting the place in a warm, soft light. Though she was never very good blending into shadows. Her red hair left free and her dress pulled up past her knee as she walked idly paced.
In her mind, she composed the words to end this. To force this to be over. Would that she had half the strength to say that in the face of what she wanted. Stupid, all of it, as if he cared half so much.
She wasn't even sure she did either. But she wanted to meet him, to see him again. To feel something other than frustration and contempt and hidden bemusement for those around her. God almighty, spare her her own pathetic need to be herself.
And let her spare some of her own dignity. ]
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[But despite differences, the two of them had an understanding; business. Business under the table, beyond watchful eyes. Always done at her door and on his terms. A perfect balance, blending the clear-cut edges of night and day, making for the gray aftermath.]
[He always came, then. When the sun had already set and his own accounts had been settled. Mainly, his own needs. Want and desire his fueling point and Greed, if anything, stuck by only a few set of standards.]
[It's slightly warm, when he arrives. Slipping from the dark, one heel clacking to announce. A low hum at the edge of his step, like fire crackling in a forgotten fireplace; the announcement of a devil and he wouldn't have had it any other way. The metaphor in there not entirely lost and the Sin tilts his head back. Wandering stride making him bend over his hips, making him twist around like the adder he is. Sleek and black, slipping over stone.]
Been a little while, lovely. [He hisses, edge of his teeth the only thing catching light. White to the moon and just like the rest of him, they're made for deadlier intentions. To tear and bite and while he's made good with them in the past, the use of the now is much more different.]
[To tease and gesture. To bring on a confession in the cruelest sort of notion.]
[But he knows better than to tread without an invitation and Greed merely circles her back. Shaded eyes flicking, watching every flutter of her dress. Wealthy in all her remains.]
So - what kind of business do you have for me? Usually, you're a little more precise. [It had been a bit vague, even for Elizabeth's standards. The bulk left out, reading between the lines and even that hadn't given him much.]
[And for a creature that called for more, it had left a bit of a nagging.]
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But now in shadows, they were inky and lifeless. Little pools of blackness against her always too pale skin. ( But never pale enough. She was Gloriana, and for awhile, perhaps, in this night with him, she was all fae, and not at all a woman. )
His voice at her back, made her tense. Exposed shoulders pulling in a little before she took a breath back out as her head tipped back a little then proceeded -- as if she expected him there all along. That this was business as usual. ]
Perhaps I needed the company. [ And then she curved, over a rosebush. White, and sweet smelling in the night. The whole garden was rich with them, and they were her favourite. As if he were nothing and she could just ignore him as she so wished, that she wasn't aware of him behind her. ] I am Queen after all, and you are not the only to feel a greed insatiable.
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[And her back to him speaks volumes; uncaring gestures, as if this isn't really what she wants. For him to grace her doorstep - to slip into her garden and kingdom alike. For a moment, he keeps his space. Just outside the framework of her back, watching the slightest narrowing of the eyes.]
[Until heels clack and his walk is slow. Poised and practiced, but with a difference sense than her and hers. Roll-snap to make the ankles turn and he easily tows the invisible circle. The space between permission and acceptance, pivoting to meet her face to face. Porcelain to smooth oil, two elements rich with their own devices.]
Maybe so, but it isn't like you to admit to something like that. Not usually. [Sure, she was honest. But the Queen wore many faces and while Greed had counted himself good to keep track, the masks were relentless. Always changing depending on present company, but at least she was kind enough to respect his rule; his honesty that was raw, exposed. Just like his very existence and he made no mind to hide the fact.]
What is it, then? What do you really want, Elizabeth? [Greed holds her name for a beat or two. Letting it simmer at his teeth. Vibrating off like a tuning fork and oh, it's wicked music that he makes.]
May as well be honest with me, since I've always done you the favor.
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Perhaps that's the honesty that he wants. Because surely it is kept so tightly to her, save for rare instances. But when she speaks it's with a venom that she should of watched, and in the end, had nothing to do with him. ]
And what do you care for my truth? [ Her affection, her favour. It is a twisted thing, that constantly had her filled with doubt. ] Is this not just some game to you as it is with everyone else?
[ She let her skirts fall from her hands. Her hand pressed flat against her bodice as quickly as it was there, the anger is gone. She straightened, swallowing down. ] Yes, I am business to you, I am aware. You have never lied about that. [ She frowned, lowering her eyes as she thought of what she was going to say, had meant to, but no words would come. ]
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[Teasing; knuckles to brush and it's only the promise. That maybe, one day and Greed takes the first step forward. Sliding up to her, an inch of breathing space as his mouth parts to the side. A glint of teeth and he always figured himself the wolf.]
[A creature in the woods, coming to chase the skirt of royalty. But he had a little more respect for her than just that.] Just who the hell do you take me for, lovely? I'm not like everyone else and I told you before - I make it a point not to lie.
[And he made it a point not to be like the rest of the long-line. Everyone following with proverbial salutes and clicking heels to match. The Yes Ma'am(s) a dime a dozen and he was the one to stand out.]
[It was just up to her whether or not she found him too rotten for her liking.]
You think this is just business? Sure, maybe. But I've never been one to deny anything, Elizabeth. You of all people should know me a bit better than that. [Greed speaks as he measures her up. Lifting his head up to stare down and the roles were reversed. If not for the mildest flicker, before he's churning down. Dipping his shoulders, spreading his elbows out behind. A hustler with a vulture's walk.]
Don't tell me you've forgotten that already. [A mild color in incredibly-black glass. The shine of something red before the usual purples peel out with a slide. To let her see everything he really is; a devil by name and by practice and he takes a crooked finger to her chin. Lifts it with a coaxing sort of motion.]
Besides, you're better than that.
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But somehow she can't. Or rather, she doesn't want to. Not really. What she wants to do is lean forward, find out what he felt like under her fingers -- and to that end her eyes slip close, biting the inside of her mouth till she was sure she would bleed and all that red would bubble between her lips. ]
If you are better than that: then tell me, what do you want? [ Pause, because she needs specific, more than just what he could want but what he wants -- ] of this, of me?
[ She was tired of second guessing the people about her -- and she might not trust him with a lot of things. But he was right, he'd never lied to her.
Because it's hard looking at him and being aware of so little space between them. It makes her want things that she knows, were too dangerous to be spoken of. Her lips part to that end -- to tell him to stop. Who did he think he was, speaking her name, touching her? Like he was an equal.
But those would only be said because he scared her, so they do not fall from her mouth. ] Am I? How am I any different to you than the other -- [ lovers, business deals, crooked meetings in back allies. ] others, you meet in such a fashion.
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[Teeth disappear. Hidden away as his smile finds a tight line and Greed traces the dip of her chin. Presses his thumb to fit, but it's oddly gentle. Despite his true nature, he's always favored a more smooth touch. Women always an exception as a rule and he saddles up toe after toe. Knocks them against the outer edge of her own to slip right in.]
[She's already heard his rant - already seen the feverish crawl. That sickness to make his throat dry; to make him barren and thirsty, so he saves it this time. Instead, pressing a forehead to her own as his free hand motions away. Caressing the dark and he's entirely made for it.]
[For promises strung out when the sun's gone. When all secrets are left at the table and it's only the mirror staring back. The cruelty of it just as naked and the Sin lets his gaze sink. Maps out every curve, every inch of her with that eerie silence.]
I want everything you have to offer, lovely. But it's a little more than that. [Always a little more, always demanding that extra inch and Greed brings his lips in close. Enough to threaten a breath at skin as his own deadly collection fans out. Springs with a solid roll of his tongue and he's suddenly releasing. Dropping a hand from her face, her last question ringing true.]
You aren't, but that doesn't mean anything to me. You mortal lot always seem to get mixed up in it - the who and the what, the right and the wrong. To me? It's all good.
[However, that never meant that he didn't have a few favorites as he keeps his forehead to her own, there's a gentle tilt of his head. Predator at the gentle pat, eyes screwing shut beyond the shield of glass.]
Didn't think that was a problem for you.
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In time, she was sure, they would forget her. As humans were prone to doing.
But he wasn't human, and he wouldn't perish as they were all going to do. ]
Remember me like this, please? [ and for once she didn't force formality on them both, like her position and place dictated she must. All that mattered was his lips on hers and she sighed softly, her lips parting against his own. Her fingers shook as she rose her hand to him, holding his jacket like he might leave her, forget her.
And perhaps that, that was all she wanted. To be remembered like a woman, for there was a Kingdom to remember her like a Queen, but no one to recall her with tumbled hair, shallow breaths and warm eyes as she looked at him. The way her corset was suddenly too tight and she couldn't take in enough air, the insecurity that slipped and showed for a moment before she breathed out again, another content sigh. Her words are in warning, but not said with malice, for she has none. The rage in her cooled, for awhile. ] If you were a man, I should strike your head from your shoulders for saying such to me now of all times.
[ She let out a breathy laughter, her shoulders dipping with it. ] But you are right, it is not.
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[Among and about. Entwined in everyday life and maybe that's when it started. He can't remember now and it doesn't really matter. Not here, anyway. Not with his own world long gone and his smile is almost pleasant. Almost soft as hands leave her. Memory suiting well, the courtship of the ill-forgotten. Both palms finding the dip of her back as she gives silent permission.]
As if I would forget. I've been doing this a bit too long - two hundred years and things haven't change that much. [Because despite tasting the permanent dirt-nap twice, Greed knows better. That in the end, he'll still walk when all else is gone. See the rise and fall of a thousand more and maybe the titles change, but the gist it never does.]
[Always someone to rule, even if the masses aren't aware.]
Artificial, but close enough. [A bit of pride there and sure, he's not exactly chiding what he really is. A monster like the rest of them, but he's made his choices. Cut the strings attached and left nothing behind. Nothing but a trail to follow.]
[But here, he does as he's asked. Tying together a deal that's been long in the making. With lips that snatched, rolled inward to cushion his teeth and Greed hums. Breathes as he takes her in; ushering her into that too-hot heat that's rich with ash. The after-burn of scotch still on the tongue and it's his own unique brand. A mark to remember and even in the moment, Greed can't help his grin. Couldn't even hide it if he tried, that wet-pull audible. Smooth to the touch and deep down, he knows it's not fair.]
[So he moves away. Gives her air as his skull rocks to the side. Tracing out her neck with the brush of a nose and his tattooed-palm finds her hair. Slides it behind an ear, a gesture to show that he has no intention of stealing her dignity.]
[That's all hers, in the end. And he'll be sure she takes it to the very grave. It's the least he could do, after all.]
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You don't feel so different. [ It really isn't fair. It felt likes years, since anyone had kissed anything but her hand, formal and restrained. This? This made her tremble, made her ache. She hadn't felt so warm, in such a long time, and she knew it showed, but it didn't care. The hand on his jacket slipped up, into his hair as she felt him brush her neck. Just to keep him there, a little longer. Nails sinking in harder than she meant to before she took the breathe she needed to calm her mind once more. ]
If my heart could ache anymore, I think it should kill me [ Just a mutter, quietly said more for herself than anyone else. ]
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[The one thing he aims to swallow himself.]
[He's reminded of an old waltz, then. Their closeness bringing the memory of sour-smoke and barrels of rum. Of smiles to laugh, in taverns encased in wood and his hips find hers in the dark. Melt against, lining up those red lines at his torso. Strange in their design, notching just above his bones to wrap back around. A similar pair at his chest that anchor at the base of his neck and the Sin hums. Something sickly sweet, fogging her skin with the aftermath.]
That'd be a shame, lovely. We've come this far and I make it a point not to hurt women. [So he turns his hand. Away from each strand of fire-gold hair, letting the silky-rough of his skin trace her jaw. As his eyes opened from the bend of his sunglasses, practically aglow under the grace of the hour.]
I'll always be here, if you really want me. It's one of the perks. [The perks and it's a surrender - to be claimed by avarice itself. Chained without the bind, a heavy weight to the bow, but he's not about to strip her. Not about to pick her bones dry and instead, Greed rocks his shoulders back. Shedding his own skin first, that vest tossing from the shelf of his back. Stopping only at the crooks of his elbows and he's the one tied down. Snared his own trap as he feathers teeth and lips down her neck. Following the arch of her spine, gliding her bends.]
Go ahead. Take whatever you want - I'll only do you the favor.
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Hardly your fault, you never broke my heart. [ There were a hundred others and family built on violence to do that. So the remark is tossed, light and amused as she traced the lines up to his throat, curling around them with finger tips and nails. She might never get to do this again, so she was going to take her time. Having him, learning him. And the moment he removes his jacket, she lent forward and kissed the hollow between his collar bones. Tasting skin in a so brief flick of her tongue. ]
You're far to giving to me. [ But she arches slightly under his hands, her eyes slipping close as she enjoyed the way he kissed her. Her lips parted in a gentle sigh.
But he'd said take and she was so good at doing that. With an impatient tug, she pulled him up to kiss him properly again. A hungry thing, because she could devour him like this, as much as he would consume her. Her hands feeling across his shoulders and arms, hanging onto him as she poured every inch of her loneliness into kissing him, her nails scratched and marked little half moons into his skin. ]
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[But nothing mattered but the present and when her hunger takes him, he falls right in. Snarling, that growl of his coming from the gut. Rising akin to the crackling of a new fire - spitting and hissing to the tune a smile and Greed lets his jaws hang open. Tongue only gracing her own and both hands sink away. To make leather and fur wash off him like a twisted baptism, landing with the muted sound of earth and stone.]
[She's digging into him, then and there's a slight laugh at the edge of Greed's tongue. Sort and sweet as his hands flow to her curves. Mapping her out as his eyes had done a thousand times prior and he'll take his time. Have his fill until the very end and he knows very well where this dance will lead.]
[So he coaxes his lips away. Better suited needs to attend to as he hooks a finger into the laces at her front. Twisting with two quick spins of the wrist, twining over the last knuckle to suffocate it. Bringing forth the metaphoric noose and he tightens the wire. Yanks and finally, the weight of his lips find her throat. The very edge of his teeth pricking skin, making her well aware.]
[That he wasn't like them; that he wouldn't leave. Even when everything else had been lost to her, even when she didn't know her own face - he would be there. A demon always to her call, even if she couldn't remember who he was.]
[He'd be there.]
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[ His hands were far too distracting to tell him what she found so amusing, because there was no way she couldn't feel where they trailed. She wonders what he's doing, at least until all the air was forced out in a gasp. Half his name said in surprise, ( and like this, she'd agree, there was no reason to call him by a title ), and then she couldn't get air back, not between the way the laces pulled so tightly. Panting soft, shallow breaths at his neck, as he bit at hers. ]
[ In the end, it didn't matter though. The thought was clear as spanish glass, he was hers, for awhile, as much as she was his. If he let go of her, she'd tumble and fall, she was sure of that much, because she could not be sure of herself at the moment. Needing someone so much, wanting more than was dignified ought to have scared her still. But she couldn't muster enough feeling to care, because nothing else would come, except the soft moan she muffled against his shoulder, a stifled gasp more than anything else. Blood rushed and pounded and she could hardly care, if it meant he kept touching her. ]
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[But it's only for a moment.]
[Because while a hitched-breath is nice, freedom is oh so sweeter. And his mouth opens, spreading tooth for tooth with a hiss of inhale. The last breath of the poisonous before fangs take lace. Shred with a yank of his skull, with the side jerk of his jaws. Snapping to pieces, an animal by any other definition.]
[But there's something more than that; something past carnal urges, past instinct and Greed catches the ribbons with a slow release. Lips dropping as gingerly as a mother to its den of kin and he swipes the collection away. Open to the palm of his hand, disappearing backwards.]
Easy, lovely. No need to hurt yourself on my account.
[It's like the moon is reflected in those eyes; ghostly appeal to the color of purple. Rich and foreboding, dangerous and deadly. Everything he is all out in the open and it's the honesty he's always promised. No hint of the truth flipped, no mask to hide his intentions. The cards out and he's never had the best of poker faces.]
[Smile far too wide, grin far too menacing. The constant drum of it, even when circumstances were less than ideal.]
[But she's right, though. Hot as a Spanish summer and someone, somewhere, could have written for it. Could have predicted this long ago; that the warm-cool touch would summon him to her. When all the lights had gone out, when everything seemed so lost. Hand stretched, a beckoning: as if he had every solution, every fix.]
[For a price, of course.]
[Muscle tenses as he moves to stand. Swiping like ink to the canvas, drawing with every inch, every second passing an eternity. Until he's got his face back to her own and a thick knuckle pushes between the smallest opening at her corset. The strips of lace still holding until a prod snaps and an index hooks in. Similar to a fishing lore at the gaping mouth and he's willing to give her a bit of air.]
Anything you want - after all, it's not like I'm about to judge you, hmn? [Greed says with a tilt. Sending his sunglasses back over his eyes, sinking those purples away to the watery-black. Back to hollow sockets and his smile stretches.]
So go on - shed that skin of yours, gorgeous.
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-- And oh she'd had a hundred men kneel before, pay homage to her like she was some altar. It's fitting that it should mimic that, twisted by intentions as it should be. With him, it is always twisted.
All the same, her smile is hazy as she looks down at him. With more affection as her fingers traced up and down his neck. Her blues eyes dark, with something else than just contentment though. Her lips dark from kissing him. And best that they did this in the night, where secrets could be kept. For so much as she would have to go past guards and her ladies, and the little hints of lust then, would be too much in the day. ]
[ All the same he stood, his request an obvious one. Not surprised so much that he'd asked, because a woman's clothes were more complicated than most liked to deal with -- thus her ladies and her maids.
So she laughed, breathing and light, for she felt that easy enough as her fingers went to her bodice, sliding the already loosened laces apart further.
In the end, she's glad she had worn something simple, something that when she lifted her hands to her shoulders, slipped down easily enough. Not that she looked at herself, but rather kept her eyes on him, using the heat she found there in his gaze to keep her going when the cool night air hit exposed skin. Nervous as she might feel, her pride would come first, and she titled her head up, even as her skirts pooled at her feet.
Her long red hair falling down was enough to cover her. He wanted truth, and he would have it. This was as bare as she could be, in the end. Nothing to hide behind, not now. ]
Well? [ Though she wasn't sure of the question she was asking. If he still found her desirable, still found her something -- to feel such need for. To possess for awhile. Or if he was just going to leave her standing here like a fool. ]
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[Claws too black, following the pitch. Cold-hard carbon that makes the points of his nails thinner, sharper and it's a set of talons. Wrapped in something difficult to break and it's not as if he's about to let her handle everything on her own. That wouldn't be fair and since the evening has been rather tipped on his scale, he's not beneath a favor returned.]
[A jerk of the wrist sends them out. Cat-claws to scratch and he pops the remaining ribbons as the corset falls down. As the skeletal structure widens with the descent and it's wires to the pull. To fray under the pressure, snapping with every release of fabric.]
[But his smile is slightly warm to the question that comes: "Well?" Well, what. As if she expected him to stop and he barks. Loud enough, thunder to crack against his rib-cage, to echo back down into his wicked pit and Greed peels clothing away. From her back and out, only to be dropped in the collection and toed away.]
What? Did you expect me to say no? [The Sin teases, hiss of his voice the flavor of bones-rattling and claws snake up. The faintest touch of light igniting the smoothness, making tips shine as he hooks the nose-piece of his shades. Pulling them away, allowing her to take a glance. To see what's been staring back all this time.]
[They're made with the intention of a viper; with the instinct of something more and slit pupils dilate. Knock like ping-pongs, vibrating as they try to figure out whether to thin or thicken. Whether to stay put and Greed coils around. Slides his claws down her back, making them hop, skip, and jump where he found the proverbial speed bumps.]
Do you even remember who you're talking to, lovely? The name is Greed, after all.
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But she didn't think so.
Even so, she couldn't help tease. Her cool fingers slipping under his shirt, running circles, her lips finding his neck once more and marking skin in short little bites. ] You could leave me here, more fool me. What use would a devil have of me?
[ Though the sight of his two black claws where the hands that caressed her so sent a fever sick thrill down her spine as those talons trace down. They could so easily slit her throat. Like this, she was nothing but soft skin. Defenceless. ( and wasn't that why she so often said no? )
But he was a devil, after all and she had the proof of it now, pressed against her body. Her shoulders tensed for a moment, when all he did was tease her again, she let the fear slip away, her head rolling back as she took the time to enjoy it. God damn her all the same.
Still, when she looked back at him, the amusement was still there. ] Many a man is made of greed, and more than one of them has undressed a woman to find her displeasing to his eyes and not worth having after all.
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[Night-life from his fingertips; to chase down her back, mapping each knot of her spine. Each break of the bone at the smooth side of his claws, the parting of them bringing knuckles back and he jerks his head to line it up with the side of her own. Touching temple to temple, the best way to pay homage.]
[She's right; the description suitable and he's thought about it before. Hell out of his grasp, but he imagines that's where they're really come from. Out of the void and into flesh, birthed by bad blood and Greed breathes into the shelf of her ear when fingers go under his shirt. Skating across muscle and a mild retreat takes hold. Tattooed-palm now painted black, hitching brown fabric to rip it over his head. Shivering the spikes of his hair, a nest of quills and it's like a porcupine poised. Ready to shoot off, only to still when the threat's long passed.]
[And knuckle to knuckle, it falls. Dribbling, the last form of payment, all debts settled. Red to the skin and the same odd lines mark him. They're hot to the touch, the cruel fire she's accused him of being from in every-inch.] Many a man, sure. But remember - I'm not really human.
[The opposite; the basic concept of a human-born illness and he's the disease. Noxious in every flavor, sick with every breath. Poison to the weary and as he brings his lips back to her neck, that free hand shoots out. Jerk-motion of his arm sending his collection of leather bands flinging back. As he gingerly slides a nail down the curve of her hip, down the bump of her backside.]
[All the while, with teeth at the bend of her neck and the Sin hovers his points over a beating-jugular. Letting her pulse vibrate with his own, letting her feel just what sort of monster he really was. 'Shield sliding and smoothing, a tale written on never-ending parchment. A story with no happy ending and Greed hums. Moving in to smother, to drag claws across skin, to rock his hips against her own. A horrible tide coming into shore, bringing with it all the terrible remains.]
[But he's not here to harm or hurt; not here to leave her cold, with only the bitter memories to stale her tongue. No - he's here for far more and as he beckons her into his arms, he's tipping her. Just slightly, so that for once?]
[She can have someone else lift that weight away; someone else to shoulder the burden of those aching feet.]
[Greed opens his jaws slightly, a hiss to caress her skin.] And anyone who would say no to this would be stupid, lovely.
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She murmured it back to him, indistinct perhaps, a mixture of languages because one did not seem enough to describe. But it amounted to the same meaning, breathed against him, over and over with kisses pressed to his skin. ( I want you, I want you. ) ]
You shall not disappoint me, as all men do.
[ A ultimatum, a surety that he would never let her fall. Because this was nothing like what they offered. There was no politics, no cold words disguised as pretty sonnets, no false intentions held by expectations that had to be met. There was just a brutal, encompassing need, and he could not fail her in it, not as they did. They who could not warm her, soothe her, could not give her this truth -- and more base than that, when he rolled against her and she gasped again. Not this time, for air stolen from her, but with the heat that was like canon fire. Her nails raked down his back with viciousness that was not expected from a lady, but expected from a Queen.
With one hand, she could rule, and with the other, she would conquer.
Strange thing it is to be held and still keep her pride, but she would never waste a opportunity. Her leg slid so carefully up his side, forcing to press every intimate part of herself to him. Arms about his shoulders, as she steals a kiss again so briefly. ] Then do not waste me.
[ Her eyes still bright and her lips she knew, stained darker from kissing him. ]
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[They've been doing this too long for it not to come to this; each circling one another, two different harmonies finding a similar pulse and when her nails rake down, his dig in. A waltz all on its very own and he follows her two-step with a three-step. Scratches when she bites, kissing when she begs.]
[She's a ruler and she's made for it. Despite any calls to the contrary and she's right for the crown. But he's not interested in that, oh no. Being a ruler of a country is fine, but being king of the world?]
[That's something else entirely.]
[Her kiss keeps him silent, at least for a while. And as he lowers her to the ground below, he quickly moves to engulf her. Fire to the trail of gunpowder and she lit the match a long time ago. Months prior, when there were others to contend with and she had politely said no, in all manner of speaking.]
I don't plan to - I'm just not that kind of guy.
[When her back finds a solid surface, his claws retract. Instead, to smooth up her leg - jerking it without need of permission this time. Folding it to his back, running it along the jut of his hips, his torso. Melding the two together as his lips meet hers again. Shoving against them, dragging the points of his teeth to stain a darker color. Not to draw blood, of course. But to make them puffy and raw; to toss the curtain back and let her be her for once in her life.]
[Because avarice has no room for lies, no room for petty gestures. Sonnets and songs left to better men - or worse. But Greed didn't need them. Didn't want them. Complications of the court not his forte and he prefers things a bit finer, a bit more open. The underbelly of the world and that's where his kingdom truly lies. On the rough backside of bruised knuckles and terrible grins.]
[The 'Shield threatens to make her nails bounce as it shifts. The fluttering a wicked base-drum, sliding up and down. As if he's giving her the next taste of it and Greed lines his nails up with the inside of her thigh. Sliding back, dragging those deadly points to softer flesh. Chasing lines to a hint of red.]
Show me everything you've got, lovely.
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The moment she settled against the earth, her back arched, her chest rising up, her hands stretched above her head, to give him the space to move his hands. Indulgent, as her leg was drawn around him. Hair sprawled about her head and she craved every way he touched her. A guiltless moan slipping her lips before she could bite down on it.
With her eyes closed, for the time being at least, she could enjoy every place his trailed over. His warmth was a comfortable one, between her legs, and she held him there, shivering as his claws trailed up. Almost too harsh on skin too soft, that had not been touched...
... well longer than was to be considered, either way, it made her frown in concentration, pausing in a breath drawn in. Desperate for something he was taking so long to give her. The next buck of her hips was so much more impatient.
God it felt glorious, to have want and wanting so free, rolling over the surface of her like a wave. ]
Since you asked, my love. [ She used the way her legs were wrapped around him as leverage before she rolled them back. The smirk slipping onto her lips was of pure satisfaction as her hands brace on his chest. A mock lovers tone, because they weren't any kind of sweetheart that poets wrote of. They were crueler, more vain, and more free than anything so simplistic, than that. The smugness and pride settled over her like hair did as it fell about her shoulders.
Smug like she had the finest stallion between her legs, and she had every intent to ride him. Her body more than accustomed to the roll of hips that went with it, all that power under her, like she felt the hundred times she'd ridden. She dipped her body over him, fitting herself against him, her knees either side of his hips and she took her time. Wondering from his lips, to his neck, and she bit like she intended to mark, teeth pulling until she hoped it stung.
Then further down she slipped, along the curious fire hot lines that marked him out from any other man. Her fingertips pressed against the bones of his hips, holding him still as she pressed warm open mouthed kisses to the dip of skin and bone. Not so rough as the ones that preceded it, she took her time. Dragging each kiss out as long as she could, before leaving another and another, a trail from one side to the other. Letters on a manuscript muttered in French and breathed out into him.
It was only after she was done, that she pulled herself back up, pressing her breasts flat against his chest as she lay against him once more. The same smug grin there, pleased with herself. ]
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[Maybe in this situation, he is the prized horse. After months of trying and she's seizing the moment. To ride, to try to break him, and with the roll of her hips, he bucks to meet. As if he's threatening to send it right off, but it couldn't be further from the truth.]
[Elizabeth has always been similar to the kind of fighters he quickly got to know before. When he was stripped down and thrown into another vessel and their ways had been odd. Foreign like the language she speaks, a means to distract with one hand while the other was coming on quick with a blade. To kill with a hidden blow and all of her movements hark to the same.]
[Thankfully, he's not one easily surprised and when she makes kisses down those lines, he raises the temperature. Lets that unnatural heat flare in his arrays and they're similar to the red-hot stroke of a forge. To glisten in intricacies of a blade, to make it unique with the craftsman's own mark.]
Oh-? Didn't think you had it in you, lovely.
[Greed's not one to leave a deal without striking one of his own and claws meet when her breasts press against his chest. Shoving her up with another jerk of his hips, giving only a couple of seconds. Though, he's fast. Enough to settle a knee between spread legs, to let her ride out a thigh as he grinds it against her. Leather to naked flesh, the pool of fabric around them becoming more dense.]
[He takes a moment, though. To show off his collection of knives, slicing through the peeled-off remains. Letting cloth shutter and rip with ease before a palm comes out. To grip one of her wandering hands by the wrist, jerking it above his own skull. Forcing fingers to the spikes of his hair, every sharp point of him at her beck and all.]
[Greed pins it there and sure, it's an awkward angle. But it makes for a slippery slope and as his heels dig into the ground, he's sliding under her. Washing beneath her until her chest is at the mercy of his mouth and the Sin takes in an exposed nipple. Tugging it oh-so-gently between his teeth, tracing the round of it with an ear-tipped.]
[Because he wants to really hear it; everything she has to offer and he'll gladly take it all.]
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But she did not think Greed would shrink from her, for her cruelty. She was in good company. She regretted killing, but she'd never regret being strong. She did this in live defiance of them, of it all. She would be a woman and a Queen and she would lust as much as she reigned with ice in her voice. But the former would be his secret, in the end. And hers.
The press of his leg between hers, was enough to bring another gasp from her, a soft note to join the music between them. Her voice soft, an almost whine as she ground back against him. Wanting more than just that, but it seemed all he was willing to give her. The raw emptiness inside her building up still, where it had been a thought in her mind, now it seemed like a pressure.
Until he moved her and her head dropped by his, head cool against the grass the was underneath them, a hand sweeping across her neck to pull her hair out of the way. The hand not in his hair, curled into the earth instead as his teeth pulled in such a enticing way. Like this, she couldn't find his shoulder to smother herself, as she was so used to doing, couldn't bite down or swallow back the surprised gasped that escaped her, and she breathed out, her words became no more than a moan of pleasure. Strange that her loss of control shouldn't bother her, making sounds better fit for a harlot, but she wouldn't have him stop. Not for her kingdom or her crown, would she have him stop the way he made her whole body forget to breath, to do nothing but writhe against him.
The dirt was going to be embedded under her nails at how she pulled at it, trying to anchor herself back. Their secret. When he'd gone from her again, she'd ask to have this garden made private for her alone. She'd call it her garden of avarice, and her ministers would scold, and her skin would heat as it did now, every time she came here. Her secret, and it made her smile till her toes curled. ]
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[He can hear it, though. All the noises she makes and it's really too good. Far too kind and this is how he steals, how he keeps. Claimed not by chains to rattle or bars to hold, but by whispers that were anything but sweet-nothings. The choke of it raw, the sting of it to burn.]
[There's a smell of fresh dirt in the air when she bites nails in and he follows her. By tilting back his heel, forcing his rolling thigh to a stop. A jerk-still hold to apply the pressure and it's Hell's own game of chance.]
[All in, or all out.]
Sorry, lovely. You've got tell me - what is it you really want, hmn? [Greed's voice comes like sulfur. Too-hot, spewing with that sultry tone that seems to purr at his throat. His lips touching the naked part of her skin and he inhales softly; through his nose as he touches it to her breast.]
[Because while he won't exactly steal from her, he'll take. Snatch up whatever she's willing to give and it always comes to this: the final straw, to make or break a situation: a deal in the making.]
[But while he's demanding, he's not entirely ruthless and one claw extends. The feline to the kill, lining it up at the dip of her tail-bone. He settles there, though, and only trails up when he hears the earth moving again. When dirt grinds and there'll be evidence under her nails for someone else to take care of.]
blaaah sorry if this was terrible fjdfds was half asleep
She was too impatient, always had been, and she made a short noise to that end, her hips grinding down against his when he asked, as if he didn't know what she so greatly wished for. ]
As if you do not know. Would you have me beg? [ Laughing, she pushed at his shoulder. Then she dipped her head and nipped at his ear, her tongue flicking gently and she let out a sigh as his finger brushed across the base of her spine. The shiver working it's way up her flushed and too warm skin.
But she could tell him, keep her dignity and say the truth all the same. It wasn't a command or a demand. Nor was it begging. She expected and knew he would not fail her. That was not how their business worked. Even if instead of secrets of others that they so usually traded, it was heat and selfishness. ] I want to be a woman, for awhile. [ and she nipped at his ear, as if she could not bare the implications of those words, and she would rather sound playful than lonely. ] I want to touch as other women do and be touched the same. [ Not forever, not even until sunrise. But for now, for now it was all she wanted. Like this, without state pressing on her, she could tease and mock and have it all there, sitting below the surface with so little mask to cover it.
Her eyes lowered, admiring his chest, the curve of his muscles, and her finger traced across his collar bone, tapping there. ] I would have you be the one to ease this -- [ the relentless heat, the shivering and it seemed like bottomless hunger that every priest warned against when they spoke of avarice ] -- that you started in me, my love. I want you to be selfish with me. I want to be selfish with you. [ Her head tilted, bemused almost at her own honesty. ] Do I need to say more?
[ It was less, than some men wanted, but more than she had given anyone else. ]
NO IT'S FABULOUS HUN no worries
[Then, finally, he simply answers:] That's all I needed to hear, lovely.
[Greed's a basic need and there's no use denying it. Denying want, need, desire; lusting after things, possessions, sex, and status. Everyone wanted something and in the end, Elizabeth was the same. Taken by both the textbook tale and the living embodiment. To grab the heart and sink its teeth in and Greed moves to her command. Lifting from the torso and he hooks a claw between silver-steel and leather. Tears the clasp with a quick-fling jerk of a nail to open his slacks.]
[But he wastes little time and his legs drop and splay. Snatching her by those hips to roll her into original positions taken: back to stage one, her spine to the cool earth as he rides his own thighs. Lifting, rising and Greed watches her from the elevated position. Moon at his back, caressing over strange skin and a tight jaw.]
[For few seconds, then, he merely stares. With eyes made for the dark, the gentle-tick of a widening glance making those sharp-pupils expand. Predatory, dangerous, but oddly sincere.]
[Before it's all gone in a flash of too-white teeth.]
[The Sin takes a belt-loop in the curve of his thumb and in two-quick jerks, he's freeing himself from the constant leather. Making it wash and fall over his hips, down his thighs. Pooling at the knees and he shoves pants and boots aside with a kick-back of a leg.] Why don't you show me just who you really are, then.
[It's stated even as he eases himself back over her. Taking a shoulder and tipping them both. Until his own blades hit the ground with an audible thud, allowing her the perch she so rightly deserves. So desperately wants. On top of him and she can reign Queen however she likes. He wouldn't take that from her, not now, not when she's been so honest and as a set of talons grab her thighs, Greed motions the other to his mouth. 'Shield tumbling, flipping over and over itself until he's only got flesh to match.]
[He inspects his fingers, if only for a moment. Shrugs and shoves two into his mouth. Prodding past teeth, letting a tongue slide between to slick the surface and both release with a single pop of his gums. Surface-wet like black ice and he crawls a hand between her legs. Searching blindly, that look of his never leaving her eyes.]
Glad to hear you're finally seeing things my way, Elizabeth. No need to deny what you really want, after all. [Honest, to the point, and not in the fashion most normal men would speak. As if they were forcing the act, but even The Avaricious has standards, morals.]
[So when he presses moist fingers between her legs, it isn't forceful. Isn't even hard. Just a slight coil of knuckles laced. To feel and prod; to tease and caress.]
[Because he'll wait it out - for as long as it takes and he'll enjoy every second he can covet.]
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At least before she's helping him take off his pants, those fingers of hers greedy for the flesh -- and whatever else he was besides -- to be pressed against her. ]
Only for now, Greed. [ For now, for now, as if it made it less of a sin, as if she has as much conviction in the warning that he already knows. But as she slides herself over him, settling her legs either side of him, one warm kiss pressed to his chest before she moved it sit up straight.
And it's a second -- when his fingers reached where she had wanted pressure for so long, where she'd grown so warm and slick -- that everything goes from her mind. Her head tilted back and her lips parting in a word that never made it that far. As much pleased by it as she was surprised, the soft little shocked gasps that followed as the heat spread and curled through her.
But she'd said selfish and selfish was what she was, in the end, when her hand caught his wrist, to keep him right as he was. Her brow furrowed, lips pressed together tightly as she hummed softly to no true melody. ]
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Oh-? Just for now? That's not really very nice, lovely.
[But Greed's not about the question it too far and he knows if he takes another step, it'll all slip away. So the 'Shield falls and he gives back, if only just a little. The flesh of his knuckle exposed and it's raw, hard. A bit calloused, yet oddly soft at the same time. A balance between impossibles and sometimes, he can play the part just as well.]
[His finger turns clockwise. Slow, deliberate, and utterly ruthless. Following the hum of her melody and Greed lifts. Hovers with the help of his torso to place his teeth against the side of her neck. He breathes her in there, letting the noises she makes rattle in his ear. This is his favorite kind of melody, one not barred by poise and practice. By rules or regulation and it's a kind of freedom he's always had a craving for:]
[The right to choose.]
[Heat ignites those lines. Running a marathon up his shoulders, across his hips, and he doesn't hesitate the next move. Doesn't think about where to place the pawn and he only shifts. The jagged motions of his body giving him away and he finds the home between her thighs. Prodding and pushing until he's in and for a moment, the Sin stays that way. Hovering at the edge, feeling something he's craved for far too long.]
[Until a mouth snaps open and Greed's got her by the dip of her shoulder. Holding with a set that's sharp, but aware; that's she's just flesh and blood at the end the day and if he slips, there'll be more than the mark on her skin.]
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But in this life, in the end, it came down to much the same thing. ] I think you should hate me if I gave you more. [ It's breathed out, and the words were so full of regret. Bitterness etched into it, but wistfulness too. She'd long accepted, that what she was, was utterly unlovable. Not as a Queen, not as a woman, and she must have both. It was for the best, she told herself, she hardly knew what to do with her own weaknesses, let alone giving them to another to see.
But all the world had her as a Queen, he had her as a woman. A trembling, desperate, hungry and flushed woman pressed skin to skin with him -- and it would be enough. To have a respite for awhile. Eyes closed as she enjoyed how he touched her. When he bit she did nothing but expose her neck to him, stretching herself out for him to do as he may. She was far beyond caring about such a thing.
Not when -- and now she whimpers, softly gasping out -- as he slipped up and into her and she wants ( shewantsshewantshewants ) to move, to grind down. But not when he's so still, and she can feel it, all of him. His stillness is a contrast to her sharp gasp and needy moans that come so close to begging that he move, that he let her move.
But she can't with teeth set so close to her throat, a wolf's jaw that nuzzles her, and she can feel his warm breath on her skin as much as where his teeth almost could draw blood. But it's their dance, where he is kind, she is vicious, and where he is deadly, she is giving. So her hands swept up his back, into his hair and then down again. Whatever it took to soothe him, to coax him. Could pretend that it wasn't because she couldn't keep still, that way.
And then, so very carefully, she shifted her hips against his, biting her lip to keep herself silent from it. ]
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[That wouldn't have been very far, after all.]
[So his hips roll and there's Hell between her thighs. Between him and her and oh, he'll just draw it out. Sin to sin, devil to devil, and he's so close to the fire. Nearly born from it and that carbon-coating at his fingers comes running back. Crawling just as slow as his pace. As he rolls and rocks his hips to the tune of a dying pulse. Just waiting for the end to take them, but he won't let it come that quickly.]
[Greed releases his teeth just to take a glance. Yes - she's Queen to everyone and anyone and he's the exception to the rule. Always had been and here, in this court, under her watchful eye and against the land that is so rightfully hers, the situation hadn't changed that much.]
[Usually, he'd talk. Hum and drag whatever noises out of his lover to a demand of his own. But not right now - voice exchanged for a growl that vibrates and latches to his throat. As he holds her hips and guides her to the beat. Pushing her back as he pulls out, dragging her forward when he rides in. Moving like a wave and it's a bad tide. Coming to shore to snag a wandering ankle and it'll be the undertow all the way down.]
[A whimper sends an eyebrow up, though. Distant yet there: almost removed. He's close enough that most people wouldn't know - not at a quick glance anyway - that he isn't human. But on close inspection and even closer relation, the signs are obvious to anyone paying the littlest of attention. His movements erratic, his expressions somewhat practiced.]
[It makes it easier to understand - a mutual fuck with royal blood and there isn't a need to worry about what dawn would bring.]
[Greed removes a claw from her hip. Flips it palm-up to her as he drags knuckles and the smooth side of his nails back up her rib-cage. Touching until he's got the shelf of her face in his palm and those talons extend. Wrapping around hair to hold her, the bucking of his hips keeping up with an elongated rhythm.]
[It's then that he shoves a nose to her ear, moving his torso vertically to meet. An awkward angle, but it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He merely snatches the bottom half of her ear in his teeth, tapping the edge of his claws down her cheek.]
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Like this, she's unaware of him looking at her, reacting to her, even as she reacts to him. It's been too long -- and for that it might be her undoing. All that matters to her, is fitting herself against him, whining softly when he left her empty, and sighing when he pressed back in.
This, all of this, she had no word for. She had no place doing this at all. But it was right to her, that they did all of it against earth and sky, and no one else. Better than being married, here she could be herself, rather than the priests watching, muttering prayers like it would ensure that she would get with child. She had no idea what it was like to be bedded for the sake of state, and she never would -- God willing, she never would.
It was more amusing to think how he would fare, with a priest and court watching. ]
Greed. [ A sharp word at how he twisted her, surprised by it momentarily. It slips her out of rhythm with him for a moment. Because his teeth were at her ear, his fingers tugging at her hair and so much like a doll as she twisted around him. The shudder making her back arch as she moved that little more insistently against him. The next stroke up, and she brought herself down that little harder, whole body clenching a little, her shoulders tense and her lips opened to a moan to echo the growl she felt rumble in his chest more than she heard.
But more than that -- and God forbid she should not be welcoming to any part of him -- her head turned that little bit, to press her lips against his claw. Hardly bothered by the black that crawled along and covered him, wondering if it tasted different to his skin. Her eyes open just enough to watch him react. Watching the blackness that shifted like a living thing on his body. Where his hand cupped the dip of her hip, the flex of his muscles as he moved with her. The contrast of all that dark against her white skin. ]
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[But back then, things had been different and he had been another sort of monster. His history darker now than he presented. Made in blood with a slow-strut to the altar and Hell followed with him.]
[But Greed was himself - he was just that. Avaricious, the title befitting the name, and he left it all behind for the pursuit of his own happiness. Which was a twisted reflection and even here, there's something off. The sex not between lovers, but business partners and oh, would he just smile and smile at any sort of pastor that may have gave him presence.]
[Instead, though, Greed grins at her. Turns lips against one another and presses them still.]
[Silently, he opens up his hand when she kisses it out. Showing her all his daggers, all his weapons, and he's entirely made for mass destruction.] Go ahead - I won't hurt you, lovely.
[The Sin can't help when he purrs out his words. His name is on her lips and when she turns, he turns. Following, two snakes to snare each other in the cruelest sort of mating ritual.]
[But unlike what may have been - what could have been and what so many seemed to want - he couldn't give her that. The next line of kings and that would have to be saved for something else. That didn't mean Greed didn't take pleasure in the moment. He had other intentions and they called just for the feeling of it. Grinding his hips against her own, threatening to crack and split one another.]
[Greed gives her his shoulder then, slipping his claws away as his knuckles thicken. Black like ink and the tips are as sharp as any quill - sinking into one of the arrays caressing over the dip of his shoulder. He drags his nails there, showing her just where to go - where the wicked-electric begins with a spark to ignite and he's the red-light district in every sense of the word.]
[How the light touches his face, how it seems to turn eerie purples bloody. But he's not the sort for violence - not here and certainly not with his company and he removes his nails as the lines mend. As his core flickers across his shoulder to seal it off completely.]
[He swipes the blood off with flick, letting the last dregs of a spark dance on his tongue. Before it's all clean and slick and wet. A new sort of instrument and he falls away from her violently. Letting his shoulder blades fan out across the dirt, making a hollow thud and his feet find anchor. The sound of his defenses rising where toes ought to be and he sinks his second set into the earth. Uses it as leverage to push himself deeper, to raise her higher.]
[And his knuckle slides between spread thighs - her own and his - caressing where his cock ends and she begins. His smile vicious, but knowing.]
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And really -- this hardly felt like reality, like something she was doing was real when she watched him draw blood and heal himself in the same breath. Stranger than all the priests ever said in their books. At any other time, she'd record it carefully. Be fascinated and appalled in equal measure.
But now? she found it just all to follow one seamless movement, as soon his shoulder was bared, her head dipped, pressing her lips, her teeth and her tongue over where the cut had run. Tasting no blood, at least not until she snatched a kiss off him. But it was fleeting, gone before she'd taken another gasp in. Like he had with her, her teeth found the dip of his neck in the second before he pulled away, settling on the ground again.
Elizabeth is frustrated with him, for a moment, she liked his heat, when it was close. Every bit of hellfire she could have under her palms. But he is a devil -- and he does so torment, or at least she realized in the moment his hand moved. In that, if she had his claws, his teeth, he would be cut to ribbons, the hand braced on his chest sunk in and scratched down. But it was an absent action, and selfish she was, the particulars of him were forgotten as she shuddered and writhed.
All that mattered was having every inch of him, and how hard it was to keep silent if this continued.
Being caught like this would be the death of her, in the end. As much as she might of forgotten all else, she didn't trust the hedge walls and stones to keep this as quiet as she'd like. The cry that came from her was smothered against the back of her hand. Teeth biting into her knuckles, but it still didn't keep it all down. The sound bubbling up and coming free despite her best efforts at each deep movement, rattling it from her. Symptoms of a cause.
It was the riddle of her existence, that it must all be locked up deeply inside of her. ] Greed, they'll -- [ - another cry and her head tipped back, feeling the heat curl in her stomach, gone again in the slide of his cock out and then back in -- ] they'll hear.
[ As much of a warning as she could get out, gasped and panted out. Something like begging or as close as she would ever come to it, in this.
But she would never ask him to stop. ]
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[It was, is, and would be why he always turned tail from the rest of kin.]
[He laughs, though, when she struggles to make words. When they're jumbled and it's the sweetest kind of payout. The whole pile of chips to run through his knuckles and he pulls himself out completely. Only to shove himself in deeper, slowly, savoring the moment. While his finger unfurls and Greed strokes to the beat. As if in an afterthought.] Oh-? Didn't think that really mattered here, lovely.
[But he offers his lips instead. His own throat more suitable than cries shoved to the proverbial pillow and the Sin takes her mouth with his. Tongue to prod, following the gesture of his grinding hips. Smothering her with all the heat she so desperately wants and he lifts with his thighs. With his heels. Up and down, in and out. Letting her ride as hard as she wants, but he'll torture as good as the rest.]
[She hasn't said no - hasn't told him to stop. Nothing but that need saying more than any worries she may have and Greed can't help his grin. It's the cat that's got all the cream and oh, does it just pour and pour and pour.]
[One finger's followed by a second. And a third. Running from the hidden bend and away and he's caressing her hip, dragging knuckles across her bones. Until he dips to where his stomach meets and muscles tense. Giving him room to slip between her legs, grabbing her sex between two splayed-fingers and he pinches there. Rolls, jerks, and twists.]
[Oh, he'll take. She only needed to ask.]
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And she might of laughed -- breathless and stolen in seconds, against his lips. Pulling back only to stare at him in bemusement mixed with all else that fluttered through her. ] Me? Alone? When is a Queen ever truly alone. [ Anger there too, maybe, but gone again in a instant. ]
[ It fits in some way he wouldn't make it easier for her all the same. HIs rough fingers finding exactly what they want on her body like he had been doing this for years. She has the spare second, biting down hard on his shoulder as she cried out louder again. Something that would have been too distinct, too obvious to anyone listening. For him, and only for him. But then, not at all, for herself. She wanted this, wanted to be like any other woman, even if that wasn't strictly true, but she wanted and wanted and wanted. He worked her body over like she was instrument he knew well how to play, and when she kissed him again, he frustration showed. Her legs shaking, clinging to him, and she felt savage and empty and like she was near to drowning.
But not enough, never enough. Her movements speeding up, asking without saying, because her pride would never allow that. It was however acceptable enough to torment him as much as he did her. Finding every part of him to trace over and mark as her own. ]
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[They're both far too gone for that.]
[But she's got a country to think about - not that Greed really cares and he should have seen the bite at his shoulder coming. He 'tsks' with his teeth peeled apart, tilting his head away so that she can have at it. It'll heal anyway and what's a few brief marks between good ol'chums.] And what's the point of a ruler if you're still thinking that small?
[Queen, king, emperor: it didn't mean shit to him. His avarice ran far too deep, like wires through the underground and on and on it went. To him, land was good, money was better, but ruling the entire world?]
[Is so much sweeter.]
[Though, he just leaves it at that. For now, at least, and instead chooses to run his fingers a bit harder, driving them down where her sex dips and he begins. Greed pinches once, if not just to tease, while his other hand makes claws at her back. A crackle of noise, the sound easy enough to recognize by now, and he's got the smooth side of his talons riding the bumps of her spine. The bucks of her hips.]
Mn - take it easy, Elizabeth. [The Queen is desperate to conquer, always. But he just isn't the kind that can be - not even his own flesh and blood had the power to do it and she certainly doesn't. But those thighs squeeze oh-so-good and Greed's got no shame in hiding it. How much he likes when she rides him, when she bites him. When she tries so damn hard.]
[So, he opens his lips. Lets her hear a grunt or two - feral, obscene. Though, he's never made any notion to the contrary.]
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[ There's an undertone of danger, as well, that Alec likes, no matter how many times that Greed assures that he's not going to hurt him. There was that with Richard, and Alec imagines Greed as the sort of man who's capable of killing a lover, particularly if the lover spurned him. ]
[ That's not really the point, because Alec's not that sort of manipulative, couldn't manage intimacy if it were only going to be false. It's just part of the appeal, the potential for violence, even if Alec likes to watch it as much or more than he likes to be its recipient. ]
Are you a man used to getting everything you want, or just what you need?
[ As far as openings for flirting go, it's awkward, but this is one arena where Alec isn't confident of his own knowledge, nor capable of acting that way regardless. ]
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[Glass of scotch half empty by now. Ice teetering on the collapse and the left-over collection slides when he motions it to empty table. Arms occupied, but he ushers his nameless guests away with a toss of his fingers. With a promising smile and hushed sort of whisper:] I'll be there in a minute.
[When the two leave, his attentions return. Alec hasn't been the easiest of his
possessionsemployees to get along with. Tongue always sharp and dismal, but they've known one another long enough and if anything, his always did come first.][So he opens up a hand. Palm churning on the axis of a wrist, beckoning the other with a silent sort of gesture.] But that really shouldn't be a surprise to you, right? Or is it something else you're interest in?
[Because when it comes down to it, he's never been the sort to deny an offer given. Flirtation not lost on him and the Sin spreads his thighs. Slides both heels from their perch at the table, motioning them away with ease. With that slippery notion and it's entirely him; the bar, the setting. Every inch his domain and he reigns as king. Crown of the would-be underworld made in cold-hard cash; with liquor, women, and everything in between. The whole cache his own; to hold with covetous claws, a devil nestled with ill-gotten gains.]
[At least he was honest about the arrangement.]
[Greed reaches beyond; fingers stretching, body moving with the pull of a torso and he's snatching at the remains of a cigarette smoldering away in an ashtray. Butt-end snagged in thick knuckles and Greed takes a drag as he peels eyes away for a moment. Sunglasses shifting from the sickly-yellow overhang, falling back into a cut of shadow. And his smile is wide, grin the Cheshire's favorite moon. Cut thin and sharp.]
Just come out with it - not like I'm about to judge you. But I need to know what you really want, hmn?
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[Alec cocks a hip out, but embarrassment always finds itself chased with anger in him, and so his eyes are hard, though whether that anger will be directed at himself or at Greed if it has cause to linger is something yet to be determined.]
[Greed is all the more attractive here, in this space he owns, when Alec himself has never belonged anywhere, not as thoroughly as this. He's always been out of place, tripping over his own limbs and words and all the other people in the world, but that's really as good as he gets.]
I might be inclined to ask if you have all of that.
[Alec shifts towards Greed and into his space, with all the wariness of any bird that's interested in the promise of being fed, or a cat still eager to be pet.]
But I think we both know that that's not really the matter at hand.
[Alec swallows, throat working for a moment.]
I have more to offer you, if you want it.
[Alec reaches his hand out then, fear and wariness overcome by stubbornness, as he ghosts his hand onto Greed's thigh.]
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[As if he doesn't need any further explanation.] No, it's not. But you could have said something earlier. Would have made it a bit more easy on yourself.
[Though, he's not about to force it. Not yet, anyway. And that stretched out hand finds the dip of his companion's back. Fans out, knuckle after knuckle, palm flat.]
You and I both know that's a stupid question - [The Sin trails off as the last lick of smoke trails off his tongue. Parting away with that wicked grin and he's too sharp. Too jagged to even remotely be called human and thighs spread as if on instinct. Birthing a place to sit by his side as Greed tilts his head. The heaviness of his gaze obvious. Despite the hollows of his shades that seem to see right through and he snaps his tongue with a click.]
You do and if anything, mine always come first. [Free hand to catch water at the lip of his scotch and he presses it. Sweat between a thumb and an index, slowly moving. As if taunting in every touch and he meets the other half way. Mouth and teeth too close to a throat and he whispers; as if there's a big secret between the two of them and it's all better left unsaid.]
So how about we skip the usual bullshit and get to the point?
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[Alec's lips tick up into a smile, because it's a ridiculous thought, and that makes it all the more the sort of thought that he wants to indulge and tease out, until the absurdity is exhausted.]
[He wants to lick the smoke out of Greed's mouth, but he's too slow, still not sure if he's welcome (still wholly convinced that he can't be).]
[Instead he feels Greed against him, and it's only that much that springs him into action, long thin line of his arm reaching out to pull himself onto Greed's lap, trusting that he won't fall -- or that if he does fall it will be no less embarrassing than all the rest of this could be, can still be.]
How flattering.
[But of course, it's not that, it's both more and less. Because Greed is what he is, and it's not the same as finding out that a self-possessed man (or woman, even if Alec has yet no experience with those) is interested in him, because there's a fascination there that flows from Alec to the other man, that makes him want to figure out what makes Greed tick, and how he thinks.]
[It means there's less room to doubt himself, because curiosity always has that effect.]
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You really haven't been paying attention at all, have you. [The Sin says and oh, there's that grin. That smile that's sick and jagged; laced heavily with hell-fire and warm just the same. Something that's not quite right, not quite human. The flavor of it similar, but there's the kick at the back of the throat to change the pallet.]
[Greed pushes his forehead to Alec's. Shoves flesh to flesh as his hand opens and spreads. He slides down a back exposed, running the pads of his fingers over fabric. Makes it ripple and twist.]
[By comparison, he's small. Small with enough of a back-lashing tongue to play the devil at his own game. Swimming in water invested with one shark alone and the kid's already made it clear that he doesn't care about the cuts. The bruises or the blood.]
[In fact, that seems to be the only thing he really, truly wants.]
[But things surprise and Greed's not a creature to say no. Especially not when an opportunity strikes his fancy and his teeth open just a crack. Alighting the points, drawing them crooked. An opening maw to swallow and he whispers to a neck as he tips his head lower. To shove himself underneath Alec's eager throat.]
What, were you expecting something else? I thought I made it pretty clear, Alec. Everything in this world is mine, after all.
[The homunculus flicks up his glance and his shades fall. Purple-gaze exposed. Eye to eye, tooth to tooth and his fingers trail back up. To push at the base of the other's skull, sinking his nails in just to bite and scratch. But not to harm, not to leave a mark.]
[Because he knows better and this arrangement's something a bit more than a casual fuck between good ol'chums. Something else, something more and if anything, he's at least built for the occasion.]
[Click and a free hand reaches past the grab at the left-overs of his scotch.] Eh- [Greed says as he shoves a nose to Alec's throat, inhale crisp.] - you're not going to be entirely honest with me, are you?
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[Alec's spine is sharp under his skin, as sharp as his cheekbones and his words, all parts of him prickly and not a piece soft, not to a point where he'd even admit that much to himself.
His head tips back, baring his throat and Alec licks his lips, vulnerable and resolute at the same time. He wants this so much, even if the 'this' can be coached in only the vaguest of terms and the 'wanting' is something that Alec himself knows isn't healthy, and can't be too concerned about that fact. Maybe being the moth is never a particularly good call, but fire burns so brightly, and there's no use in being cold or alone in the dark either.]
I should certainly hope not.
[Alec's chin drops then, jutting out, as green eyes connect with purple, Alec's own filled with all sorts of things that he can and can't say, but inside all of that, challenge. The question of if Greed actually thinks he can handle Alec in this way, the expectation that he wants to -- not a hard confidence to have, when he's already admitted that much.]
What would the fun of that be?
[Alec's not exactly experienced in this, but he's certainly going to pretend to be more so, and he's not virginal, for all that a stray comment can sometimes make him react that way if he's not prepared for it, if he gets caught unaware. This isn't that sort of situation, and he imagines that there's not really anyone that could be fully prepared for an encounter with Greed.
That's at least a part of the appeal.]
Unless that's a part of your deal?
[That he will be honest or that he wants honesty... Alec leaves it ambiguous because the scorn in his voice would be there either way.
He trails his fingers across Greed's chest then down to the base of his shirt, to start to pull it up, to let his fingers slip underneath.]
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[Somehow, Greed expects this is the way the kid wants to be. So, he doesn't pry the issue.]
[But he does raise a finger from his glass, when he's asked: whether or not the honesty is needed to seal the arrangement and the Sin chases a laugh over the bare of Alec's throat. Warm and foreboding, a touch of fire at every word he utters:] No, it's not a deal breaker. But I'd prefer it - after all, I've always done you the favor. Seems only fair, right?
[Though, Alec's not one to play by rules. Challenge and it's in his eyes, his voice. His body and every movement he makes; the younger to take on the Alpha and Greed moves his skull when a chin comes down. To round the edge of a neck, teeth parting at the shell of an ear.]
[The glass thuds behind them and Greed momentarily lifts his gaze away. Meeting the dull cough of an intruder and he greets with a growing smile.] Another one of these - [Tap, tap, tap to the rim of the glass.] - actually, make it two.
[The drink drags away at Alec's back. Taken by another of his many
possessionsemployees, bringing back privacy. Of which, Greed doesn't waste.][Instead, he grabs Alec's chin. Forcing it to tilt with a thumb and an index. Stroking a knuckle to his cheek.] I know you're a liar, Alec. But it doesn't seem right - you don't need to hold anything back, not with me.
But hey - whatever you want.
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[Stupid, stupid, to think that just because they were gone they would stay that way.]
[Naive, and unjustified as well, and so doubly unforgivable.]
[So Alec won't allow the touch to melt him, even as he does allow himself to moved, permits the touch with a little less enthusiasm, but still more than he should be doing in public.]
We should go somewhere private.
[Alec forces a little of the tension out of his spine, but it's clearly an artificial sort of relaxing now, and then he's moving to slide off of Greed's lap, before the person returns with drinks.]
Somewhere that will allow us to enjoy this a little more.
[And it's a good thing that he hadn't promised not to lie, because he's still doing it with his voice and that studious air of false comfort that isn't actually going to fool either of them.]
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[Greed isn't too bothered by it.]
[Instead, he places one hand to his own thigh, hoisting right up. The other reaches across ashy smoke to clip the two-offered drinks by the lip. They rattle when the bang together, clinking and grinding against each fragile edge.]
C'mon, then.
[Because he's not about to wait; not when what he wants has been sorely interrupted and the Sin births from the outside curb of his table. Side-stepping to find a winding road of more of the same, dipping in and sliding out with the graceful movements of an adder.]
[The music shifts when he moves. From the lull-hum of jazz, to a luscious strum of a single string-guitar. A waltz in step, though the lyrics don't quite fit: "We spoke of was and when, although I wasn't there. He said I was his friend, which came as a surprise."]
[There's enough space between them now and Greed stops at the foot of a winding staircase. Old, rickety - smudged in scuffs and smears from God-only-knew-what. But even that wasn't quite right. No God to harbor, not at these shores, and it's only the wealth of Hell that lines the walls. That keeps the bar holding together and Greed tosses up his free hand. Mark on the backside of his palm practically glowing in the yellowing-haze.]
Up here, friend. Less to worry about.
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[Alec can't deny the note of relief that seeps into his voice, the pleasure at the fact that Greed is going along with moving them, rather than simply calling this whole thing off as too much bother.]
[What Alec wanted, he'd said, and it seems as though he might have even meant it.]
[Alec takes the steps the way he's told to, staircase the familiar enough sort for him, given his location and era, as familiar in feel as the opulence and wealth that glitters everywhere he looks.]
[Alec was right, this is the sort of man that his grandmother's ruby belongs with.]
Is one of those drinks for me, or were you just trying to stock up?
[Alec asks it once he's at the top of the stairs, but he holds his hand out for one of the glasses, expectant all the same.]
Or I suppose they could be to save for a toast, after.
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One for you and one for me. Though if it isn't your sort of thing - [His words filter off, slithering away from a tongue-forked. Eyebrows curving to follow his shades and he shrugs his shoulders. As if the rest could speak for itself.]
[Upstairs is far darker. The light from below receding to shadow, the haze drifting up from the bar settling between the floorboards. Other doors stay-half cracked down the splay of hallway, letting in sharp-cut lines of light to break up the constant shadow. Every moment of space undulating: from black to gold and back again.]
[It's fitting, if anything.]
[Greed's slow when he walks. Cutting heel over heel, point over point. It's practiced the way he saunters, like he's strutting all the way to the end. Hips swaying ever-so slightly and his torso moves. Left, right, left to catch up with the other and the Sin bends. Falls over the shelf of his hips, that smiling breaking with a wet-smack of his lips.]
A toast? Sure, if that's what you really want. [It's a weird request, but hey. Whatever the other wants and Greed finds the last door at the end of the corridor. Shoves his elbow to it and the clasp pops, the knob rolls. It's old and the fixings aren't exactly cream-of-the-crop. But he's never been one to judge a book by its proverbial cover.]
[No - avaricious nature finding the value in things most would take for granted and Greed slips right in. To a room that doesn't seem to have a light to its name, save for the slight pitch of moonlight coming in from a cracked window. And it washes earthy-tones in a gray-pitch, similar to that of a black-and-white film reel.]
[He sets the glasses down on a table as he passes through. Leaving them behind, both hands grabbing at the collar of his vest and he slides it from his shoulders. Pulling it until knuckles are thick and he tosses the signature garment onto the backside of an empty chair.]
Eh- you can close the door, if you want. It'll tell the rest of 'em not to bother.
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[He ignores the glasses for now, in favor of shutting the door with a definitive click.]
They had better not.
[Another interruption would be an interruption too many.]
[Having said that, though, is enough to make Alec let go of the possibility, enough to allow him to watch Greed with greed of his own in his eyes. Alec knows he's not all that much to look at, too thin and too many sharp angles to be considered handsome, but Greed looks prosperous and in control, the sort of person Alec might have hated if he were a lord (or maybe if Greed were a lord Alec would have a reason not to hate all of them). Besides, this room doesn't look like anything that a lord might have in his estate, and that's enough to make Alec relax quite a bit more, not having to feel like he has to be careful with the space or that Greed will kick him out for not looking like he belongs.]
[It's enough to lend Alec an air of arrogance, the assumption that he does belong, and that this space is a throne and he is a king. Arrogance comes the strongest to Alec when he's his most unsure, his most vulnerable.]
[At least it does help now, instead of setting him up to be punched. Alec drops his tattered black scholar's robe onto the floor without caring where it may fall and shifts towards Greed, hand reaching out to touch, to run his fingers along Greed's arm now that he's allowed to touch, to feel the muscle and the power in him. He wraps a pants-clad leg around Greed's own.]
You're probably worth bothering, though.
[Is in Alec's opinion, at least.]
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[Alec's always been difficult to reason with. He's just glad that this time is a bit more simpler than usual.] Oh-? And here I thought you were lacking in ambition. Guess I was wrong.
[Though, his tone isn't mocking. Sincerely through the hisses and despite any notion to the contrary, everything here is just that: it's his. The palace not made from marble, but out of old wood and cigarette smoke. The currency not always gold, but constantly changing. Whether it money or status, glory or sex: Avarice incarnate didn't care the pay-out, in the end.]
[It harks back on something someone told him a long time ago: "A king's nothing without his people." And maybe that's the wealth here - the real jewel in the devil's crown and Greed coils around Alec. Turns his nose to the dip of his neck while one hand comes up to wrap around a hip. Thumb pressing into a pronounced dip as four-fingers follow to snare. One at a time and he's everywhere. Touching his nose down the crook of Alec's shoulder while his free hand hovers just at the edge of his bones. Fluttering down, the touch oddly gentle, considering the owner.]
Is that what you think? Don't sell yourself so short, Alec. I wouldn't have asked you here if I didn't think you were useful. [But that isn't entirely it either and Greed takes the action in reverse. Knocking his heels to walk backwards, the action announced by a series of thuds that clack off his boots. Until the back of his thighs collide with the frame of his bed and he sits. Rather unceremoniously, hands cautioning the other. To ease over his spread thighs and yeah, maybe this is a little better.]
Eh- guess I'll never change your mind on that, will I. [Sultry and slippery and the Sin pulls his face away. If only briefly, to snatch his signature-shades. Exposing an eerie pair that takes the moonlight with covetous abandon. Highlighting purple and they're practically aglow in the dark.]
So why don't you just show me. [Greed's words fall back down his throat as his eyes swivel back. Slipping to watch the other with the cruelty of a grin, with the fever of the Cheshire beckoning a lone wanderer down the next path.]
[And clack go the sunglasses. Earpiece swinging against glass to make it rattle and he tosses them up onto a nightstand with a fling of the wrist.] No need to hold back. Not here, anyway.
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[Alec's voice is as lofty as it gets, long vowels and carefully enunciated consonants. Alec mocks because he breathes, but right now the shots he takes at himself are comfortable, a sort of intellectual simulation that falls secondary to his own interest in the situation.]
[The thought that he might be considered a sort of currency would sting if it weren't so ridiculous, that's also been the only reason he'd agree to be used, because he doesn't believe himself worth the effort for anyone to stick with it for very long. He's not paying Greed in sex, though, not any more than he's being paid in sex. This is a part of their interactions, their relationship with each other, but how could it not be? Alec would still believe it an understanding rather than a transaction, and maybe that's naive, but he does still suffer from that sometimes, for all of his assumed cynicism.]
But I'm not here to be useful to you.
[And there's that arrogance, always lurking beneath his skin, in too-bright green eyes and the thin set of his body, in the educated tones of his voice. It surges out because it's part of Alec, and it's not a thing he keeps caged up. It's a defense and an offense, it's who he is inside and cover to help protect everything else. It's him, as much as the long hair tied up with a ribbon and the sharps edges of his nails.]
You're here to be useful to me.
[And oh, what a kind of useful.]
[Alec's lips find Greed's throat and he goes for it, lips gentle and no hint of teeth, but it's a test all the same.]
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[Though, he doesn't take the time to reflect on the idea: "A man like you-" There weren't many like him. Very few in fact, six others to count, though he liked to pretend he was still a little different from the collection. Seven-deadlies in one package and he usually made out for the sore thumb.]
[However, there's a laugh. As Alec coaxes lips to his throat and Greed allows. Because the notion is a little bit of a joke: useful, not useful. The labels don't matter and the Sin cuts the shelf of his boot into the floor. Pivots it up as his eyes screw shut.] Am I? That's not how it really works, friend.
[He doesn't, wouldn't, and can't be under any else's thumb. It's a bad combination and all-too-quickly, he's the first to bite. At the chains, at the collar, at even the idea. But Alec's always been one for arrogance - with his too-green eyes that say he wants control and doesn't all in the same hitch.] Eh-
[The homunculus arches a shoulder. Bringing it up as his chin falls part way. Trying to see beyond hair and ribbons, rocking to the opposing palm. He wriggles a hand free while casually flicking the other; opening his fingers and the 'Shield in the same motion. A switchblade with a punch and it's a sharp twinge.]
[But he only guides a talon to snap the ribbon free. To cut the fabric and make to flutter away.] You've still got it all wrong, but all right. If that's what it'll take. [Not that he's about to take the kid's orders or bow under him. But he'll scratch an itch when it's due.]
[So he lets gravity do the talking. Back falling against a mattress that aches with misuse. Groaning, the springs already bent from previous encounters. There's enough clues to know that others have been here. From the claw marks at the wood-work to the smears of lipstick on faded-white sheets. Their signatures fresh and old, telling a story with each twist and turn of linen.]
[But Greed's not paying attention to it. Instead, he hikes up his legs. Hooks his heels into the crisscross of a frame and tosses himself and his company back. Alec on top, he at the bottom. Though that doesn't exactly mean much to him.]
[The headboard bucks when he frees his grip and Greed tosses his hands to the mount. Digs his nails into wood, holding him there with twined-wrists.] This, then? [He says with a mild tilt of his head.]
[It's a bone-thrown and even if it won't last very long, the Sin's not about to complain about the circumstance.]
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[Instead he lets himself fall with Greed, until he's on top and the last thing he has to be concerned about is the fact that he might crush Greed, because he doesn't have to know how much Greed can take to know that Alec certainly isn't anywhere near the limits.]
[It's the kind of safety net Alec needs, the sort of thing he's much more concerned about than if he himself will get hurt.]
Time will tell. [Still with that perfect arrogance, the sort of blind confidence that he will get what he wants and what he needs. This isn't the sort of attitude that Alec is completely comfortable with, but it is his legacy, what he's been born to succeed at. Whether it amuses Greed or entices him to be more assertive in response, or if it makes him obey, Alec knows that he's the one who's winning. (They both are.)]
[Whatever Alec might ordinarily hold back, his fingers are honest as they smooth over Greed's chest and then slip under the shirt he's wearing, letting his nails scrape sharp over skin, laying his own claim over this man that so many others have had (that has had so many others.)]
[Alec's hips twist against Greed, even though he knows that he himself doesn't need the encouragement.]
This will do rather nicely, yes.
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Good thing I have all the time in the world, then.
[The dark is thick and dreamy. The light wash of a false-twilight from the street turning things gray, ghostly, and it's a steady sort of air that slips in and out. From the whistling open of a window, coiling curtains that had seen better days.]
[Alec is right, in all of his mental prowess - there had been plenty here, too many faces to count in all the centuries the devil's dwelt. But even if he can't remember the names, the Avaricious has always counted himself pretty good at remembering a face. And even when Alec's time has run out, Greed knows all too well that there will be plenty of other occasions to keep that face remembered.]
[So he moves his wrists. Rotates them so the flats of his lower arms face out and leather bands pile as muscle thickens. A lift sends him part way up, jaws opening with an audible and forced intake of air.] Y'know, for someone your age, you really are pretty demanding. I guess that's why I like you.
[To be liked by the living embodiment of it: it's almost poetry, almost sickening. At least, most people would consider it that way. But Alec is a funny sort - darting this way and that, his clear purpose masked behind a mask, behind a mask. Always hiding something and Greed's grin slowly closes. Making a line of his lips as he nudges his head to his partner's throat. Pressing his nose, his forehead.]
Show me, kid - [The Sin starts, voice like a poisonous purr. Echoing in his throat, rattling his teeth.] - everything you really want.
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[He's not always a very patient person, bad at picking his timing except when it's aimed to infuriate. But this is different, and he's still a sort of scientist -- if one whose never heard of the scientific method -- intent on categorizing Greed, on understanding his properties.]
If I'm going to be demanding I might like some oil as well. [A cheeky tone of voice, but nothing that he thinks is going to be getting a problem, something that will make his explorations a bit easier.]
[Everything he wants is both simple and complicated, but he's very eager to indicate exactly what it means, ready to show Greed exactly what it is that he's inviting.]
If you want I can promise to be gentle.
[But what does a promise like that really mean? Still, the offer is as much a dare as anything else.]
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Try under the bed. Keep a few things handy in case someone interesting comes along. [Or in case someone actually wants to have a go and fuck him like the devil. Not like he's one to complain or say no. He's taken the bottom row from time to time and, if anything, it's usually a good ride.]
[He doubts, though, that Alec is seeking out that particular route.]
[Greed retracts and his nails screech as they bite into wood. At his angle, he's looking down at Alec - with those ghostly eyes that are foreign and strange. They widen and settle, thoughts passing through with the jittery motions of his pupils.] Not sure if it's any good, though.
[Though, he knows of a few alternatives and Greed slowly brings one leg up. To set the base of his heel next to Alec's thigh and he nudges the crook of a boot up and down a rigid backside. Coiling that wicked bend, pressing the pointed tip into the small bump at his partner's spine.]
Gentle? Ha - ! That's not really what you're into, is it? [Greed arches himself forward, straining against his own muscles as he makes a snap at the empty air. His teeth click together with a crunch, with a grin that grows in anticipation. Oh, he's a terrible creature: in make, design, and status.]
Whatever you want - I told you. Show me everything you've got for me, lovely.
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[Alec rolls off the bed, awkward limbs and a bit of fumbling as he has to pull away from Greed, from the magnetism of their attraction. He's impatient and yet he wants to relish this, wants to explore everything that Greed's body has to offer.]
[Wants to know him the way Greed seems to already know Alec.]
You'll get to find out all of that.
[Having found what he needed Alec clambers back onto the bed, one hand holding his prize but his attention back on Greed, on shoving the fall of hair away from his own face so that Alec can nip at Greed's lower lip, can show his own teeth.]
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[They often kept things simple.]
[Greed's head falls back with mild disappointment when Alec leaves and his lips pull to the side in a pouting frown. Eyebrows follow, creasing together when he cocks his head slightly to the side. He could almost pass for innocent then - almost being the key word, because as soon as Alec's got the bottle in his hand, those teeth come fanning out. From lips pulled too tight and there's visible interest - in his eyes, in his jaws, and the Sin settles his head comfortably into the back-board.]
Will I now. Glad to see you're finally seeing things from my perspective. [Greed's voice is a humming sort of purr. Sultry like jazz and hard like metal. An intertwining of two harmonies cycling in his throat and when Alec nips at his lip, the homunculus lowers his hands away from the wood anchor behind him. Slipping through the columns holding the straight-piece together instead and he mimicks a prisoner. Shoving his hands between the bars and he fists his hands, keeping them locked there.]
[Because he doesn't want this to be a quick in and out. A slam-bam-thank-you-kid kind of deal. No; he's been doing this song and dance a bit too long and he'll gladly take his time.]
[So a tongue rolls out, chasing the teeth that come bared. As if trying to coax the other on: "C'mon, give it to me. More, more, more." But Greed doesn't say a word - instead, he growls. Something soft, an approval.]
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[Alec doesn't bother to study what Greed looks like alone on the bed, because he's too eager to return, even if he hasn't determined exactly what he's going to do with what he's fetched, but that's a minor detail compared to the rest of this.]
[Alec finds himself tempted towards the alcohol now, but that would mean leaving Greed instead, and this is a different kind of altering to his mood, and one that he refocuses on, teeth digging in after a nip, not needing too much to be encouraged, not requiring anything more than what he's getting -- Greed's enthusiastic responses.]
[Still Alec doesn't shut up, because there are always words, even when they'll cease to make any particular sort of sense, they still wind up being said. It's just Alec's way, a habit too firm to be broken despite the fact that there's not really any reason for it.]
[He has to pull back to speak, but he takes the opportunity to touch as well, one hand cupping Greed's cheek, nails scraping to leave thin white lines in their immediate wake and then a pivoting of his hand to press his forefinger against Greed's lips, to find out if he will suck it.]
[Or if he'll bite.]
Even I can be taught, if the right teaching methods are employed.
[The lazy drawl of Alec's voice seems particularly suited to this moment.]
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[That's when he bites.]
[It's a gentle nip at first. Just to feel the defined hardness of Alec's bones - they're exposed against his thin frame, practically poking out to challenge the strength of his jaws. Greed knows it can't win in the end, so he doesn't test the limits too much. Instead, he just holds the flesh there, bringing his mouth around the knuckle to seal it. A few brief sucks later and his smile ruins the whole thing.]
That so? [Eyes flick up and he retracts his head. Smearing the spikes of his hair across wood, making them bend slightly.] For everything I actually know about you, taking an order isn't really one of your strong points.
[But hey - he's not faulting Alec on it. Orders weren't his strong point either and that's landed him into enough trouble for a few centuries worth of lifetime(s). The Sin tightens the muscles of his arms, tenses to make tendons line out against his skin.]
What is it you want to learn then, kid? [If he wants to learn all the vices, he'll give it to him. If he wants to take a piece of the cake and eat it too, fine. Either way, Greed's getting what he wants out of the deal - this way or that, it doesn't matter to him.]
[So he watches Alec from the cliff of his chin and waits.] C'mon, I told you to show me. No need to second-guess yourself - I'm not like the rest.
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[If he does get flushed with pleasure.]
[What makes him get that way.]
How you act when you've been riled up.
[He's already getting an idea of how Greed reacts to a challenge, to what he makes of Alec himself. All important things.]
Right now I want these off, though.
[And Alec's reaching for the fastening on Greed's pants to try to get him to buck his hips in a useful way. It's only when he looks at him this way that Alec truly appreciates the power in the other's body, but that's not something to make Alec stop, or to make him wary.]
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[He's all too keen to oblige. Lifting his hips, setting his heels down to anchor him. His torso goes up, his shoulders bend down, and his spine arches with a wicked angle. It's a demand - to see just how far his avarice can be pushed until it's all too much.]
[Either way, it's an interesting twist on an evening.]
[Greed's grin is wide as it is sharp. The very idea of having his own world turned on its head is one that he finds incredibly amusing. He hadn't pegged Alec for the sort, though he should have. The kid's not exactly forthcoming with everything and he should have noticed the extra ace up his sleeve. Ready to play when the game came to a boiling point.]
[It's funny: just how unpredictable some humans can be.]
[Greed's fingers open up and his wrists knock against the wood as he back-latches behind the headboard. Hidden there are claws - it's obvious when a splintering-crunch comes calling from the dark.] Not stopping you, kid. But it's a tall order to fill - just remember that.
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[Possible, but Alec would have to hope that Greed has low expectations of him to genuinely expect that to happen, and he's not about to want that.]
[His arrogance leans in a different direction, but Alec's never pleased to be caught out to have so little experience as he does.]
[Still, he might not have been with all that many men (certainly nothing compared to Greed, but only a few even without that comparison to tilt the scale), but he knows how to tease.]
[So it is that once he's gotten Greed's pants off, once he's worked his cock free, Alec wraps his dry hand around him and slowly moves his thumb along the length for just a moment, before he's slithering down Greed's body, acting like the man's hands around the headboard really are tied in place.]
Pleasantly, or not...
[And then Alec is licking against Greed's stomach, a moment to allow Greed to anticipate something more, before he goes clambering back up the man's body, fingers exploring and making the threat to scratch (nothing like what Greed has done to that wood).]
[A brat, but that much isn't a surprise, and he does intend to see Greed satisfied, eventually.]
[(Alec's mouth is just better at other things.)]
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[But it just makes it that much better.]
[The tongue at his skin seems to chase away the 'Shield. As if the homunculus is letting down all of his defenses. Just to feel the promise Alec has in store for him and those nails drag unseeing behind the wood. Slowly, scratching peel after peel of pine under he's got ribbons-thick under the curve of his talons.]
[Greed arches his hips, meeting the too-dry hand at his cock and a laugh hisses out of his tightly-shut jaws. Slithering from between his teeth when his eyebrows knit together and oh, Alec just shouldn't have.]
Maybe you'll surprise yourself kid - I don't really deny much. [Greed breathes as he screws the tips of his claws back into the headboard. Almost let go, then. To wrap around Alec's skull and coax him on. But if the kid wants the driver's seat, well.]
[There's the wheel.] I told you to show me everything you've got, brat. Might be good to take something you want, for a change. And who knows? [His chin tilts up first, bring the rest of his head with it. One eye open and Greed watches for a second. Just as voyeuristic as the next.]
Could prove yourself wrong for all that fussing.
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There's always something new to learn.
[It's like a mantra or a promise, but right now Alec lets it go, focuses on the more he has available to him in the moment instead.]
[So he does shift after a moment to lick firmly against Greed's cock this time, one hand braced against Greed's thigh and the other lubed up and messy, reaching between Greed and the sheets, to draw circles around him.]
[His mouth on Greed's cock is tentative, careful, because Alec would rather draw it out than make himself run the risk of choking, because now more than previously, he's actually worried about embarrassing himself in front of Greed, so he's trying to walk a line between eagerness and experience, pretending for control for the sake of an impression he wants to make.]
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[He's just been doing this too long.]
[So one hand stretches - nails first as his wrist twists. He offers the smooth side of his talons, pacing them up the side of Alec's skull. The Sin's got all hands on deck: his eyes watching, his fingers twirling. Spinning and spinning until he's got black-brown hair through the knuckles and he holds with a foreign sort of admiration.]
[A growl escapes him, then. Nothing vicious and more the rumble of a predator finding its kin. It's thick in his throat, coming from the depths of his chest, and it makes his teeth fan out. Greed taps his other hand behind his own head, drumming with a slow sort of rhythm.] If you stay here long enough, you'll learn plenty.
[How the underworld worked. How the black market functioned. And of everything and anything that dwells in the dark. It wasn't just a name painted on the door, but a sign: that brought all matters of secrets and rumors. Of freaks and abominations to his door step. Ushered in with open arms and eager hands. To snatch and have and Greed wore the crown proudly.]
[Which is why he's got no itch to chide Alec on his behavior. Or his lack of finesse. The kid's got plenty to learn.]
[Gently, as it not to disturb too much, Greed slips his claws away from Alec's hair. Touches to the tips to his face, sliding a thumb across a cheek.] Like I said - nothing you do's gunna hurt me much, kid. So feel free - [The hand unfurls behind his skull, a gesture of relaxation. The Sin's not about to let this one slip through his fingers so easily and if he means taking his time, well.]
[So be it.]
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[He's certainly heard of masochists, after all, even if he's far from being one such himself.]
[There's a confidence in his voice by the time he does talk, voice lofty and assured, certain that he knows about this much, at least.]
You don't want me to bite like this.
[Which is fine, because Alec doesn't want to do that, would much rather bring Greed pleasure even if nothing will stop him from being a little selfish about, a little bit of a brat.]
[But he's been tentative more for his own sake than for Greed's, and it's obvious enough that that's not as convincing a distraction as he'd like it to be. So he keeps his mouth light on Greed's cock, the slow movement of his tongue inside his mouth providing pressure, but his finger presses into Greed, feeling the other man's body give way to let him in.]
[It's intoxicating, heady, and Alec wishes he could watch it happening. Later, he knows, he will.]
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[The Sin's lips do close and his comments with them. He's taking it all - the way Alec holds him, the movement of those lips when they take his cock and suck. A shoulder lifts tentatively, pulling the creature forward and finally, he's got a full hand on the top of Alec's head.]
[The tips of his nails rake - gently parting between the strands to have a scratch at Alec's skull. Then back again. Slowly, catching the rhythm the kid's beating to and Greed's easy enough to follow. With a hum at his jaws that's more of a purr and fine, he'll let him have everything he wants.]
[But oh, there's a surprise and his muscles tighten, his lips turning into a relaxed-O, and Greed whistles. Doesn't say a word, though. Not even as he shoves a heel into the bed frame and coaxes his torso down. Rocks his hips until he's practically riding those fingers in deep.] Tsk - [One eye opens, then the other. Alight with mischief.] - not bad, kid.
[Knuckles clench and the Sin's got a tighter grip now. As he rolls his body, bringing those fingers in deep and ah, there it is. It's been a while, Greed'll admit. Usually, it's the other way around.]
[But he's not about to complain.]
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That's why it's important to break it down. [Or it breaks him down. Or it does that anyway.]
Into manageable pieces.
[Alec is licking Greed's cock between sentences, literally licking rather than taking it back fully into his mouth, because it's far more important that he talk than that Greed get everything that he will in this current moment. He's losing his rhythm to this, but that doesn't matter to him, and he'll be surprised if it changes Greed's mood.]
[Most surprised because it would have to mean that Alec overestimated him, that Greed isn't the sort of person that he's professed to be. (That's not a mistake that Alec makes very often, since he's hardly generous to other people, even as he knows he might still be too naive for his own good. Still, it's better to know that sort of thing sooner, rather than later.]
Manageable pieces is why Alec had intended to open Greed up slowly, but he can feel the shifting of his body to draw those fingers in, and Alec doesn't think he has that much control. It had been his intention to bring Greed to some level of satisfaction with his mouth before he shifted, but he's rewriting that plan based on his lack of diligence and his impatience.]
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Break it down, huh. [The curve of a claw catches his partner's lower lip. Touches it, grazes across it, and Greed's eyes narrow. As if he's rereading the last bit of a clause: "Sign here, dot here, but remember the expectations.."]
[His eyes follow the flesh of a bruised lip. Taking in the contours, the shape of it pressed between his weapon of choice. Had he been another sort of creature, he probably would have pierced it. Torn it right up before he sliced the kid's throat. But those days were long gone. Tossed out like yesterday's garbage and Greed, in all of his years, had never looked back.]
[So he hitches his heel, peels himself away from Alec's exploratory fingers. He can feel the muscles tense and relax, a small sigh escaping his jaws and even in his ears, it's entirely unholy. Rude, plain, and noxious. The pit opening up and oh, welcome on down through the burning rings.]
[Knees arch, legs with them, and he snatches Alec in a vice. Smiles with a wicked sort of flare, youthful and old, before his stomach clenches and Greed flips them both. Tumbling to the other side of the mattress, listening as the old wires groan and bend. It's only when he's got the other under him, does Greed arch back up. Moving with a roll of his hips, a buck of his spine, and nails frame out the bottom edge of his shirt. Brown fabric knots in his knuckles as he yanks the offending garment off and over his head. A flick of the wrist sends it crashing into a nearby bureau and the wood shudders and quakes. But Greed pays it little mind. Instead, he settles his thighs - letting them sink into the mattress as he slips into Alec's lap.]
You really haven't done this much, have you? [Finally letting the cat out the bag and the Sin knocks his head to the side.] Don't worry about it - I'm not about to hold it against you.
[The Sin bends, meeting Alec's forehead with his own. Warmth breath at his tongue and he's eye to eye, tooth to tooth.] Go on - give it a try. I've got all the time in the world, after all.
[To test, Greed pushes with his hips. Grinding himself down with a grin that could kill. With a laugh that's a whisper.] Besides, I don't have anything else planned that can't wait 'till later.
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[He's certainly no maiden to see or want his virtue protected. That's hardly the point of just now.]
[But Greed has moved and for a long moment Alec's hands protest their emptiness as Alec tries to figure out why they've changed, what's Greed is trying to say about them doing it this way.]
[He starts by shifting under Greed's grinding hips, breath panting as he wraps an arm around Greed, half-clinging to him and half trying to just figure out where he should place his hands.]
[None of this is natural, but it is all exciting.]
[Alec shifts to meet Greed's lips, to nip at them with his teeth. It's as much because he feels he has to prove a point than anything else, and he doesn't want to just be a kid to Greed, wants instead to impress and please him. He wants to see that they both get their pleasure, and that Greed is satisfied with what Alec is offering him, that Alec doesn't serve as a disappointment.]
[That Greed won't regret bringing him here.]
At least I won't break the furniture under us.
[Alec's hand finds Greed's ass again, and Alec seeks him out, pushy, wanting even when he can't explain his want, when he wouldn't actually be able to break it down to anything more than this.]
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[Either way, it'll prove a good time.]
[The Sin's smile is knowing. Like a teacher in correction, "Why don't you try it this way? Ah, there you go." Alec picks up the lesson quick and the homunculus rocks his hips back to meet the prod of a finger. His right hand's at the ready, charring a hidden match to life with the carbon-switch of a nail. He inhales when fingers resume their exploration and exhales when he picks up a rhythm to set them free.]
[It's here, that he finds a pace. Where he takes Alec's heartbeat and steals it without much notice. The cigarette puffs to life above them, clenched in his teeth and his knuckles.] Not like I'd care if you did. It wouldn't be the first time I'd have to replace something.
[Greed's eyes flick down and his other hand brushes the air. A snap of the wrist calls the 'Shield again. It trickles down as ink to parchment. Bleeding across his skin, making it far too dark, far too sinister. The Sin side-glances his handy work before bringing his smooth-slick palm to Alec's chest. He spreads his fingers there, stretching the points of his claws so that they hover just above skin. Then he settles them - pricking into soft flesh, but not enough to draw blood. Just to let the other really feel him and Greed shoves his hips back with a violent buck.]
Mn - c'mon, Alec. Give it to me. You know I'll do you the favor. [His voice is running hot, his pitch that of a fever. Greed's eyes flare open briefly only to settle back with a hooded glance. It's the look of a predator. Sizing up its next meal, the excitement in every twitch and pull of his muscle. Greed knocks his knees into the mattress, clenches his torso, and moves. Sliding to and from those fingers as talons scratch small lines up the center of Alec's chest, making for his throat.]
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[He shifts his hand so that he can lube up a second finger without having to remove the one in Greed for long, then he slides it in. He knows what he's looking for right now, knows that Greed is clearly ready for more. Likely ready for more than even that, but it's a distraction, something more for him to ride, as Alec focuses on his cock, on getting it ready.]
[Part of him can't help thinking it absurd that Greed may ride him like this, that the man is larger than him in a way that has much to do with the strength of his opinions as it has to do with actual physical size, and that they will both make for a bizarre image.]
[Good thing, then, that Alec likes the absurd.]
Aren't you going to let me have a drag? [Alec knows smoking even if he doesn't know cigarettes, doesn't know nicotine, and might be disappointed by it, by the fact that it won't compare to Fool's Delight, the rush not the sort of thing to bend his mind like that, but probably also not the kind of thing to leave him paranoid and shaking. He doesn't want the aftereffects of that now, but he never does, and yet he's used the drug multiple times before, and other drugs as well.]
[He isn't going to make it a bargain, though, isn't going to refuse anything now. He pulls his fingers out of Greed and then holds on to hip with one hand, the other holding on to the base of his cock.]
Then take it.
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[Greed inhales on the cigarette, making the tip spit-spark. Ash falls, touching and smearing a pillow that's seen plenty in its time here. He plucks it out of his jaws, flipping the butt over so the fire's too close to his palm. And on instinct, the 'Shield rises up. Licking where the threat of a burn's near and the lit end lights up that pitch black. Giving it a glow that hums orange. Red.] For a little shit, you really are demanding.
[But he gives it anyway. Molding his claws around Alec's jaw as he passes the smoke. It's nothing like what Alec's probably used to. Raw and harsh, the tobacco a bit stale. Still, it's not like Greed's complaining and smoke comes rushing out of his nostrils when he drops down. Holding the headboard to keep his weight from crushing the other.]
[His hooded gaze does nothing for the look he's giving. That need, that desire in every twitch of an eye. Greed leans in close, letting warm air out when his jaws open wide. He could tear Alec to shreds like this. Rip him apart and have at him, just as his would-be maker intended.]
[Instead, he only says one thing:] Gladly.
[The Sin coils his head against Alec's own, side-tilts it to wrap his lips around the side of his neck. His teeth latch in then, just as his nails release and he's running his knuckles down Alec's side. Letting his bones knock against each jut of a rib.]
[One, two - ]
[Teeth sink in a bit harder. Latching around and Greed hums. Lets the vibration shiver through the jagged tips.]
[ - three, four.]
[His stomach tenses, his hips rock forward. Slowly rolling, hovering just above where Alec's hips stop. Leaving the smallest bit of space between.]
[Five, six.]
[His knuckles ease and those talons come out again. To scrape and wind against skin. Tracing lines that circle and bend, following each curve.]
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[Like saying something, coming to an agreement, and Alec's big on communication.]
[Alec takes the cigarette, and he knows enough about the idea to not breathe it wrong, but it still makes him cough, and he makes a face at the taste, at the heaviness of what he's inhaled.]
[Then again, that Greed has poor taste is something that's already been evidenced, because he's chosen to have Alec in his bed, after all, and while the man is arrogant, he knows that he's so without cause.]
[That he's done nothing to make Greed want him besides to be difficult, and to want it himself.]
You like me this way. [Because if Greed likes Alec at all it has to be this way, because Alec isn't capable of being anything else, can't do away with his own sharp edges or attitude. Hasn't become any softer since he settled in this bed.]
[Still, Alec doesn't scream when he's bitten, just wills his body to relax and it turns out not to be the sort of thing that he has to focus on, it's just the sort of thing that happens, like the way that Alec's body orients itself to Greed's.]
Trying to claim me? [As soon as he says it it's clear exactly how ridiculous of an idea that is, that it won't ever be the case. That Greed might be thinking of it that way anyway, and Alec feels nothing at that but amusement, and a low burn of pleasure, in the pit of his stomach.]
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[Just like its owner.]
[He doesn't stay, doesn't pause. Not for a beat and his hand slips between his own-spread thighs to cup Alec between his. For a moment, he merely holds the tips of his nails there. Tracing outlines against a cock, humming softer as he does so. It's easier this way. Without words, without the need to chase every bold-spat answer with a quip of his own.]
[Greed releases his teeth. Pulling back as his thighs sink to either side of Alec and his eyes are alight. Pupils thinned, grin wide. He rocks back onto the balls of his feet, shoving in deeper. It's then that he takes Alec in the palm of his hand. Wrapping finger after finger around his length and tugging in rhythm with the slow-roll buck of his hip.]
Maybe. But you already know it's too late for that, right? [One eye narrows and it's a sneer he's sporting. Sharp and deadly. Alec knows - he has to. He's already been claimed. Marked and treated as one of his own.]
[And he wouldn't really have it any other way.]
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[It's harder to respond to silence, but not impossible, but still Alec lets Greed have his moments until he responds, Alec lets himself focus on the physical sensation and the pleasure of having Greed cater to him in this manner.]
I know that you want everything and that you're incapable of telling the difference between what you are and aren't capable of keeping.
[It's purred in his low tone of voice, because Greed can have whatever claim he wants, but Alec's got plenty of free will left over, and he's going to exercise it just to prove he can.]
I know that this is convenient and it's just gotten more so.
[As if his pleasure is only that, but it's easier to say that than to admit even to himself that he's vulnerable.]
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[His grin is deadly; almost threatening, but not quite there and Greed closes his eyes. A shove of his palms to the mattress sends him away, spreading his thighs open as the back of his heels hit the frame of the bed.] Nothing's convenient, Alec. I've been doing this far too long for that to be true.
[He falls; lowering himself between Alec's legs as he trails a finger down the side of his thigh. And like the feline before, he watches; as he sends nips up the inside of Alec's leg, tracing up and up and up - ] For once, why don't you give it a try? Really wanting something.
[The rest falls to silence. As he takes the tip of Alec's cock in his mouth, rolling his lips back to shield away those terrible teeth. Both hands follow suit, thumbs spreading to notch his palms between his partner's legs, urging them to spread. A hum curdles at the back side of his throat, holding there as he swallows. Slowly at first, taking it in piece by piece.]
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[Alec's mouth is open and he's focused on panting for a moment, green eyes heavy on Greed, wanting and needing so much more than he's already gotten, but not even sure how to describe to himself what it is he needs, let alone to the Sin.]
[Greed's words make for a start, his mouth for even more of one.]
Why do I need to, when you'll give it to me anyway?
[When usually wanting just means realizing what he won't ever have, what Alec knows in his own heart he doesn't deserve. He can want with every breath, but he either needs to take or receive in order for that want to be satisfied, and usually neither is likely.]
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[Subtle communication won't work, that's for sure. But maybe a little nudging will.]
[So he moves the hand into the spikes of hair. Forces the palm into his scalp as if beckoning for a tug. For some sort of direction, an answer to what Alec really wants out of this and Greed growls. A feral noise that's neither aggressive or demeaning. Something a bit more pleasant as he urges the other further and further down his throat.]
[The kid does have it right though: "Why do I need to, when you'll give it to me anyway?" Well, partly right. It isn't like Alec's needs overpower his own - it's just a means to an end, to get what he wants out of the deal. But as he's said before, and certainly will say again, there's a few perks for signing up under his wing.]
[And his are always taken care of.]
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Hnn.
[It has to be good to reduce Alec from words to noises, although that much won't last as long as Greed might like it to, even if the words Alec does reach for aren't filled with the usual level of snark.]
That's so good.
[He doesn't need to ask for things right now because he wouldn't ask for more than this.]
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[Behind him, the Sin presses and extends his legs. Moving forward to force Alec further down his throat. There's a hum there; elongated as he answers the voice with a growl. This is how it should be. Without protest, without the same old bullshit that Alec is practically infamous for.]
[And he finally gets what he really wants.]
[Greed presses his tongue up when his head sinks down and his fingers feather out. Drawing red lines up Alec's skin as he scratches ever-so-slightly.]
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[Alec's still trying to tease, to push, but his fingers are tight in Greed's hair by now and he's not sure how much more of this he can handle, is practically hoping that Greed won't do anything to make it better any longer, because he doesn't think he can take any more than this.
The grip of his hands is an anchor, and it's the only one he has, and his body writhes under every touch, straining for more pressure, more scratching, more Greed.]
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[Until he presses his tongue and bobs it. Finding a slow rhythm that circles a little sloppily. One direction, then the opposite a second later. His hand does the rest of the work; smoothing an open palm between Alec's thighs before he places his fingers at the base of a cock. A little bit of pressure as he maps it out. Up and up, then down again.]
[A short snort comes out of his nostrils though. It'd always be better if Alec tending to act more this way. Unfortunately, Greed knew it would never and couldn't ever be the case.]
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[It isn't much further in coming, and then Alec is letting go -- truly letting go -- in a way that might be terrifying if it didn't also come with that overwhelming sense of pleasure and rightness.]
[It's been too long, and Greed is too good to him, and if Alec were able to keep control of his head he might well watch curiously to see if Greed will swallow or not, but right now that matters not at all, not even as a point of interest.]
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[It's the reaction he's been looking for. All this time, all this effort. Alec's been stubborn, but Greed's more so. When he pulls away, his tongue comes with him. A roll of it that brings a satisfied purr to his lip. Greed swipes the back of his wrist over his chin and swallows.] See - wasn't that bad, was it?
[The homunculus crawls over. Hovering above Alec with that too-sick grin and those wicked eyes of his seem to glow. Taking in the light where it comes, swallowing when it gives.] I told you. No need to be a pissant all the time.
[He lowers himself down just a tad so that there's only a small space between them.] So - what else do you have for me?
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Bad's not the word I would use. Remarkable might be.
[Alec's body is languid and relaxed now, a feat in and of itself, given how he usually holds himself.]
Don't you want your own satisfaction?
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[His eyes open with a low hum. The noise groans from the gut, coming up to vibrate against the backside of his teeth.] Flattery doesn't fit you. [He chimes back, his voice a rough kind of whisper. A hand spreads to coax down Alec's side.]
You didn't really think that was going to be it, did you? [The homunculus snaps his jaws and shoves his skull under the jut of Alec's throat.] You should know me a bit better than that.
[His other hand trails back and a thumb makes easy of the button. A simple pop and Greed's grin spreads where his lips touch Alec's skin.] Just had to make sure - not interested if you aren't, after all.
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[Alec doesn't think Greed means that, even though Alec running his mouth in a different way is one of the side effects of being pleased, of feeling the pleasure throughout his body, and perhaps he does.
Although he would have thought that Greed would like to be admired, would enjoy being wanted.
But he's satisfied to keep touching the Sin, to do everything that he's apparently allowed, and to enjoy the feeling of them sharing a bed. He moves his hands after a moment to try to help Greed out with easing the clothing off.]
I am. You're smart to think me so selfish, but I'm better behaved in bed than I usually am.
[And he expects that he'll get more out of this anyway.]
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[He shifts himself up, hiking the band down. Alec's much more easy to understand like this. With all of his complaints aside and Greed lowers himself back to him. Nipping at his throat as too-hot air chases skin. His hand follows the curve of his own back and two fingers hook in where leather eases. Greed slowly trails them down and his knees makes the bed beneath them groan.]
You are. So c'mon - I want everything you've got, Alec. [Just to make his point clear, Greed latches his teeth into the dip of Alec's shoulder. Holding him there as his hips, his torso, undulate to help free him of his slacks. They go in slow motion and Greed drops his hand.]
[Again, they tumble. When the Sin's got a fingers-full of Alec's hip and he pulls him into the momentum. Until Alec's settled right on top of the jut of his hip and Greed knocks the backboard with a solid thwack of the heel. His teeth release then and the Sin inspects the slight indentation with an admiring sneer.]
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[Alec does shift against Greed's body, even with the teeth as a different sort of anchor, because he wants to find more skin to touch and because he wants to admire the sight that Greed makes against the bed, wanting and wilful.]
[Then he's finding refuge in words, because he doesn't know what this is, but he's sure that it makes him vulnerable, and he's not comfortable with that, even as his fingers scrunch against the pattern of the bite, admiring it with his own touch.]
So certain you can handle all that? [Alec's fingers shift to tousle Greed's hair, to muss it if he isn't already too mussed for that sort of difference to be noticeable.]
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[But with that hand in his hair, the Sin doesn't make a protest. Instead, he pushes two fingers into his own mouth. Shoving them first knuckle, second, until he's down to the base of things. It isn't the cleanest way to do it, nor is it the most pleasant. But hell, he's had plenty of time to wait.]
[A pop pulls the duo out and Greed reaches behind Alec's back. He moves closer as he does, hitching up by the torso so that his too-hot breath masks just at the edge of Alec's throat.] Just depends on whether or not you can. [With a distraction in play, he slips a finger down and in. Just pushing, prying inside Alec. Not all the way, no. But enough.]
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[So he lets Greed press the finger sticky with spit, but green eyes lock with his.]
There is the oil, wherever it's gotten to. [Managing scorn despite the tight feeling of pleasure and promise in his belly is a skill, and one that Alec has honed finely enough that he can use it even now.]
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[But that absence doesn't last long.]
[Greed's at Alec's mouth - almost touching, but barely there. Signature smiles at the ready and teeth made to snap, the Sin makes a growl lodge and hold in his throat. Tuning like a fork against the smooth side of his razors. The noise says it louder than words; than any sort of tricks and traits he may have:]
[He isn't human and he never would be.]
[His fingers are hot and slick; soaked in the bottle of choice and lathered just right. Greed sways his head away and his eyes peel open at half-mast in the dark.] Demanding as always - guess I owe you that much.
[But the second time, he doesn't hesitate. Sliding his hand, a forearm, between Alec's legs. The Sin's taken a place at his partner's side, holding himself just out of the action for a moment longer. A press of an index first, middle knuckle second; he hooks with one and lengths the other. Pressing inside with a quick-fast jerk of the wrist.]
Gotta show me - [Greed hisses at Alec's ear, tentatively hovering the tips of his wicked teeth at the skin.] - exactly what you want. You're good at ordering things out of me - seems only fair.
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[Greed might not be human, but he's a monster in control of himself, and Alec's willing to give him what he wants.]
[Wants to give Greed what he wants.]
Am I showing you or am I using my words?
[He's almost certainly better at the latter -- or at least controlling it, making sure that the story he wants to be believed is the one that he puts out there -- but then Greed knows that, and that might be reason enough for him to want the former.]
[Right now Alec feels relaxed and anticipatory enough that he's confident he can manage anything.]
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Both. [An order. Hushed through the points of his teeth as he breathes and speaks into Alec's ear. It shouldn't be hard to guess: his avarice running rotten, demanding as much as his partner is willing to give. Which is to say, all of it. Every whisper, every demand. Every plea beckoned on whimpering pleas.]
[It's a confession. Turned upside down and coaxed out. Not with a promise of savior, but with every intent to damnation.]
[Greed releases Alec's ear with a nip and in the same second his coaxing motions hold still.]
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[Alec's body presses back towards the stilled fingers, trying to move around them if Greed won't move them again, even as Alec can guess at what the game plan is, can only presume that Greed's trying to encourage Alec to want, and the way to do that is for him not to be having without asking. That's fine, Alec doesn't mind, and Greed had warned him.]
Then get on with it. [Alec's voice is still an elegant drawl, words drawn out like he's in no rush to have them heard, like he's not lying in the bed of a man whom he wants badly to fuck him.] Fuck me.
[Alec's fingers reach out, groping blindly, trying to find Greed's cock, to touch him, to make the message that much clearer.]
And not with your fingers.
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[No use waiting anymore. He already has what he wants.]
[He coils on Alec; serpent-slick and molding above him. Both elbows plant to either side of his partner's skull, allowing him to loom over. A hunter's sense, a predator's pose. Greed touches his nose against the side of Alec's head and his weight rocks to the opposing side. A second later, with faster movements and almost inhuman reflexes, he's got his would-be lover by the hip, then the thigh. Greed coaxes the leg aside, letting it flow the trail of his shoulder when it dips to the command.] Now that wasn't so hard, was it?Looks like you and I finally see eye to eye.
[The muscles of his stomach make knots. Pulling, tensing to drive up and inside. But the Sin in question makes not a sound. Instead, his lips wetly part. Shining the sharps of his teeth to a vacant light; igniting with the quickly-dwindling leftovers of a long-sought evening.]
[Greed's pace is slow at first. Slipping the tip of his cock in, moving further down the shaft. He's halfway inside when his rattler-gaze opens. Taking in everything Alec's willing to give. Sacrificing to him with breathy need, with a want that's almost intoxicating.]
[It's practically a favored drug and he couldn't have asked for better.]
[His right hand snaps out to the bed post, digging in with real enough nails that don't shiver black. That don't hook with weapon precision. No - he'll let his 'Shield down. Let the kid wander and have until he asks for more.]
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[Alec is open, his body ready for this, but it's more than just satisfaction at being filled that Greed instills in him. If Greed sees this as a victory of sorts, then so does Alec. After all, Greed has to want it just as much as he does, to pursue it like this and that thought is enough to make Alec's lips curve up into something that could be smugness and is certainly satisfaction.]
[And he can't say that he minds that this what he gets for the moment, because it's taken enough time to get to this point and because he knows he's opening himself up to what might be too much to handle.]
Eye to something, at least. I can think of lots of things I'd like to look at.
[This is Alec relaxed and comfortable, and it might not be an easy thing to achieve, might not even be all that valuable, but Alec's going to enjoy himself in this state, even if he's still not going to shut up.]
And feel. You are going to move, aren't you?
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Didn't think you were about to complain. Still a fucking brat even now - tsk.
[But he isn't upset. Not in the slightest. Amused even, as his face presses into the side of Alec's neck. With a leg over his shoulder, the Sin releases his hold and runs his fingers down Alec's thigh, down his leg. Using it as a point to drive himself deeper, to sink himself in without even a hitch to his breath.]
[He doesn't need it. Not like humans do, not like others might in the same situation. A fuck is a fuck and his always get top priority. But that doesn't mean he can change what he is - a selfish creature and when he finds the right pace, Greed grins wide against the sweat at Alec's skin. He hums into it, practically purring his appreciation over the dull-knocks coming from the headboard.]
[The wood smacks against the wall, retracts, and smacks again. Muting the outside buzz to only a slight whisper and the draft coming in is a chill-warmth. Like summer without a taste of humidity. It smells of what one would expect it to: liquor and cigarette smoke. Motor oil and the faint tinge of copper. A place that Greed calls home, that he calls his own.]
[The Sin's fingers flex at the headboard and reattach. He's moving quicker and his cock's halfway in when he grabs Alec's throat. With lips that suck in the skin, letting a tease of those teeth again. He's marking the other - showing the world that what's his?]
[Stays his.]
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[Except that neither of them is really surprised by Alec doing this -- or Greed shouldn't be, no matter what he says -- the same way that neither of them is surprised by Greed's possessiveness, by his apparent desire not just to have, but also to keep. As if marking Alec will help with that more than satisfying him would.]
[As if marking Alec does anything at all.]
[As if Alec is worth marking.]
[But he can't help the snide remark, or he can but doesn't want to. Greed either knows what he's doing or he's in way too far over his own head, and Alec won't deny that for the moment it feels good to belong, even if it's just in this old bed.]
Perhaps my expectations were too high.
[As if Greed can't pound Alec into the bedframe, as if he's not the most powerful partner Alec's ever had. (As if Alec has had as many partners as he likes to pretend.) As if Alec isn't hard enough to put the lie to all his words.]
But that's fine, just do your best.
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[Greed forces himself to the hilt, pushing inside Alec until his cock's gone with one last roll of the hips. And it's there that he stops; hovering over Alec while a low rumble of laughter crawls up his throat. But it isn't angry, not even a hiss. More like an airy whisper. It makes the muscles of his stomach tighten and those red lines of his seem to turn on like a furnace to the catch.] You really are a little shit, aren't ya. Fine - have it your way.
[The leather bands on his wrist ripple out and snap to his skin once the 'Shield comes up again. It winds like a road in black stretching on an infinite stretch. Greed releases the hook of his talons and the wood groans right back. The threat of dawn on the horizon turns the crooked shadows purple-blue. Washing and lapping at the gold that threatened its turf, it ignites the holes left behind as the Sin retreats.]
[But instead of using those weapons to rip and tear; to mark, kill, and maim as was their original intention, the Sin presses his forehead to Alec's own. Shoves skull to skull as his torso rolls and rocks. He twists like that, undulating in a clockwise motion as his claws skip across Alec's leg and trail between.]
[The feel of that pitch-black skin is odd in its design. Warm and chill, similar to a smooth-sided piece of metal that's been coaxing the edge of a fire just an hour prior. Greed traces his thumb under the base of Alec's cock, trailing down until the lip of his talon cups his balls. He bucks then, pulling himself out and back in to a beat that's all his own.]
[All the while, Greed's eyes stay poised. Flicking up and down Alec as he presses the tips of his nails and gropes him. With a touch that could easily turn this whole thing sour if he wasn't him. If he were programmed like the rest, Alec would be as good as dead.]
[Instead, Greed takes his throat and notches his teeth in. Holding him against the headboard as he presses his hips, promising to grind them both into dust. And still, his talons play. Cupping and rolling, fingering and touching to the same rhythm he takes.]
[Sex is sex, fucking and fucking. But for his own, he'll always try one better.]
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[But this pleases him, of course it does, this moment where it's not his body betraying him and not his desire making him give way, but a combination of being desired and being needed, to the point where Alec thinks that Greed is enjoying this almost as much as Alec himself is, even if it's for all the wrong reasons, or even if Alec's aren't as right as he'd hope.]
[But he's not going to last long like this, not when Greed is so powerful and so clear with his wanting, not when he's being alien and unnatural and Alec is drinking it up, trying to absorb the strangeness in through all their points of contact.]
[Greed is alien and in control and so many things that Alec isn't, but that hasn't kept Alec from getting him here, and it isn't going to keep him from enjoying himself.]
[He arches his back, pressing his body against Greed's, making sure that he can feel the promise of everything that there could be between them, making sure that Greed has to keep giving in order to get as good as he will.]
[Making sure that Alec gives instead of just taking.]
You wouldn't want me as much if I were like everyone else.
[Whether it's true or not, Alec is going to choose to believe it, to get the most out of this encounter by telling himself that he's special, that Greed is doing this for him as much as he's doing it for himself.]
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No, you're right. I really wouldn't have it any other way.
[He stops fucking him for a brief second. This position won't do and it's all too ordinary. Too normal and this back and forth bullshit they've had has lasted far enough. Greed slips out, his hand reaches to snag the bottle of oil again. He nudges Alec with his chin, ordering the other on.] Up there - [A suggestion, though he doesn't waste time showing Alec exactly where he wants him. Greed uses his own muscle to his advantage and his arm slips under Alec's, leveraging his own stupor to flip him over. Thick knuckles force themselves through the slits of his companion's fingers and grip, dragging his hand up and over the restless headboard.]
But talking to me like that? Tsk - you really are a pissant. [But no matter his protest, he's never been angry at Alec. Frustrated, sure. The kid often denied himself what he wanted, punished himself for things out of his control. It doesn't make sense to him and it never truly will: the human need to damn oneself.]
[Greed crawls behind Alec and when he slams their twined hands against the wall, the noise sounds violent. A crack groans across the peeling paint, but the homunculus doesn't care. What he wants right now is right in front of him and he's played the fiddle long enough.]
[Soaked fingers drip and he kneads the substances between his nails. Until it's sticky, warm, and he smears a bit across Alec's ass. A signature and a promise before he's knuckle deep again. He sinks in, caressing back until he's sure the kid can handle it.]
[Their affair is a strange one. A dynamic that the Sin in question really can't make heads or tails of entirely. Alec's always been one to change his mind; quicker than a drop of a dime. Greed hesitates before his nose touches the backside of his partner's neck.] Watch it, hmn? Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.
[Greed's hand retracts when he feels the tightness subside and he gives a flick to his own cock, slicking it for another round. He grabs Alec by the dip of his shoulder and his teeth settle in, his hips press. At first, he's only got the tip in. The rest of his hard-on follows and when he bucks, it isn't without a fever. Slow, rhythmical, and hard. The bed jerks back, slams forward.]
[And all that he gives is a brief growl. A sound that's both pleased and telling of his nature.]
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[Still, Alec can also understand a hint, as much as he might not choose to take it all the time. (As he’s said already, he wouldn’t be the man that Greed had invited up to his bed if he felt so bound by things like social nicety.)]
[This hint comes as nicely as any has, and Alec is content enough to focus on the way that Greed is playing his body, those hands practiced in a way that perhaps should not be quite so sexy, but is. Alec has no problem with someone else showing initiative in the bedroom — in large part because it means he can still state his opinions without being overbearing, that he can go along with it enough for it not to be quite so obvious that Alec’s own experience base isn’t quite as deep as he’d like to pretend it is.]
[Greed’s care is appreciated, for all that Alec finds himself quickly to be moving further on with it, before his body is necessarily on board with that particular plan. It’s important to seize the moment when he’s mentally ready, Alec is sure, and one of his great frustrations has also been that what he thinks doesn’t correspond with reality. It would be nice if the world worked a different way.]
[Still, he’d wanted to be in bed with Greed, and that is what he’s achieved, so perhaps it’s not all wrong.]
[But for all that there’s pleasure, the fact that Greed is calling Alec a pissant, is making conversation, as it were, is all the more incentive for Alec to respond, to show that he can give as good as he can get, at least in one small aspect of this interaction.]
You’re not all just empty words.
[Pissant he’d promised to be, but that’s a compliment, and it comes out in practically a purr as Alec shifts to make sure that Greed is nice and close, that when he pounds in Alec can really feel it. After all, if this is worth doing, it’s worth doing right, and that means making it as pleasurable as they can, for both of them.]
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And you're not entirely a pain in the ass. Good to know.
[The fresh bite marks are indented with a promise of bruises in the morning. Not that he cares, not that he'd ever care. It's his calling, a warning to others - in the end, Alec could do whatever he wanted. But there would always been the next devil knock-knock-knocking at the door.]
[The Sin's hand springs open, fanning palm-first across Alec's prominent hipbone. He digs his nails in like a vice, anchoring the other still as he forces himself cock-deep. A breath of air escapes his nose with a pleased sort of sound, but that's the only thing that comes out of him. Before he's rocking, thudding, and picking up a pace that's both drawn-out and relentless.]
[He's everywhere and no where at the same time. His nose presses into the back of Alec's skull, his sneer spreads across the matte of hair slicking across the other's neck. And his hands leave, then return. Springing wide open like a feline to pounce, only to lightly scratch and kneed at his companion's stomach. The lines he leaves behind are pink to the touch, but not enough to drawn blood. Just a reminder of just who or what Alec really belongs to.]
[Which is him and him alone.]
[The headboard cracks against the back wall again and Greed finally grabs Alec by the base. His hand coils around finger by finger, nail by nail. Careful to keep the deadly points away while his thumb finds the rhythm of his hips. The Sin presses the flat of his finger against the head of Alec's cock, rolling it counter clockwise to find the beat.]
Give it to me lovely and I'll be sure to do you the favor - [His voice curdles from behind; toxic and moist as he speaks just at the shell of Alec's ear. A tease of a nip follows, those razors skating across the outside rim of his companion's ear. He snaps his tongue off the roof of his mouth, letting it roll slowly towards the backside of his teeth.]
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[And of course it wouldn't make a difference anyway, because Alec is nowhere near as comfortable or as commonly given to sex as he likes to pretend.]
You're more apt to be the pain in mine. [And yet this is a pain in his ass that Alec relishes the idea of, will welcome the reality of as much as he'll welcome the memory of what these bruises will mean.]
[If this is what belonging feels like, maybe it's not so bad as all that. Maybe it's a very different way of coming home, having a place and a person, than Alec has always been afraid of. Of course, it's easy to think that now, when Alec can be sure that Greed's attention won't last, that something or someone else will prove to be more interesting. Or that Greed will simply prefer the idea of what he doesn't have to the reality of what he does.]
[And if there's one thing Alec can be sure of, it's that he won't accept having himself thought of as being second best.]
Call me more sweet names, and you can have anything you want.
[And it's a lie, of course it is, because Alec already knows what Greed wants, and it's what he wants too, and because Alec will always be contrary. Except right now, because he does want it, and Greed is giving him everything that he needs to get there.]
[And so is it any surprise, that with Greed in him and around him and pressing against him, that Alec gives I to the inevitability and let's go off what passes for his control. His body clenched around Greed's length, and he cries out with pleasure, with satisfaction, as his release rushes from his own cock.]
● ( pray ) 'cause no body ever survives
[ Her greeting to him was some mock formality, hardly so kind, in truth, if anyone knew what smiling eyes could hide. But all the same, with a love and a kindness she kept for only the most naive of children, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, her hand curling to cup his jaw. A lover, a wife, or an old friend. No one was ever bold enough to say what she meant by such an action. But to her, as ever, it was a game of smiles and twisted meaning.
And sweet as the gesture was, it was contrasted, by the blade she pressed into his hand, a gift and a request all at once. The blade was plain, no stones decorated it, though there was a carving engraved alone the pommel. There were a hundred blades like it in the city. It was why she had given it to him. It would be untraceable. ]
I've work for you, if you'd like it.
[ As if he would have no idea what that work was, like this was a meeting done in proud daylight and not in a back alley. Like they were respectable gentlemen. But she turned, trusting him enough to not run her through like a wild animal ( and so many said she was). Her skirts clutched in one hand and held as she navigated the old blood stains on the floor, like she could see them even now. Above it, even if she caused it. ]
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["There are demons down there," they had said. "-and they're coming for us."]
[Which was slightly true and slightly not in the same breath. He, himself, took to orders when they came. From another source entirely, one stashed away deep underground. A secret kept by the people running office and no one else knew the wiser.]
[But sometimes, the mortal lot surprised and she was always full of them. Her violence, her wrath, and when she came to visit, it didn't surprise him. Instead, he merely smiled to the crack-spit of a burning candle. The touch of hell-fire at those teeth and his shoulders rolled up. Sending the long fur collar of his jacket spiraling across the broad-side of his neck.]
C'mon, lovely, you know I don't need that.
[As if to make his point clear, Greed extended his nails. Shot them out, a feline ready to pounce, and claws met steel with a horrible sound. The melody of the damned as sparks flew off the blade. Punctuating with every bump and scratch of his terrible talons.] Though, don't you have someone who does this for you? You know I don't work for you, right?
[The seven deadlies and they weren't for human consumption. Weren't drafted under a flag or a kingdom, but under one individual alone. The father of monsters and the Sin rose to his feet. Reached his claws to the wick of the candle and pinched it out.]
[Smoke spun from his talons as he turned to face her. Those eyes like beacons in the dark.] You should know better.
[But his smile told a different story. Dangerous and sick as he motioned himself over his hips; undulating with the thought, far too eager with the proposition.]
Just who is it this time?
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She would die either way, and perhaps he would be the cause. But she doubted it. There were too many people she had crossed, and asking the devil in was the least of her problems.
After all, she could turn her back on him, and for now, not fear an attack that might come were she with anyone else. With him, she could be alone. Without her men and her killers. ]
You always prefer the dark. [ Her fingers settled on the desk she kept in her small office. Her fingers pressing against the rough wood, running across it's grain before she turned back to him. Hands supporting her as she lent back a little. Relaxed, except for the tension that settled along her spine. ]
The man that killed he who so usually does this for me. [ There was an agitated clench to her draw. But it was gone in an instant, her head tipping with a becoming smile. All sweetness and guile. ] They say it was when he was drunk, caught him being a fool in the street, and they left him with his throat open in one of the back alleys.
[ And she would have believed it too, if it weren't for the fact that there were whispers -- that it was not drunken fight. That the men who had done it, had been wearing Phillip's colours. It took her half a days searching and more gold than she cared for to get the man's name and location.
And she would not have him killed by some amateur. ] I know you have no need of my blade, but my men prefer that you do. [ scared of him, the actions of him that they spoke of in whispers. Skin like hell's fire and a smile when he killed that would make Lucifer jealous. She appreciated it, in a far different way to most. Liked his bloody efficiency, his sleekness and indefatigably.
In the end, the blade had been for her men's peace of mind. A pantomime of violence. Keep it to what they knew best, so they could console themselves as to what their mistress dealt in. ] but you are the best I know. There will be gold. [ She doubted his price would be gold, but the offer was the same. Elizabeth rocked back on her palms a moment, smiling still. But watching him, mostly. Gauging him. So very men she could predict, but him -- she never could. Perhaps that was why she did it. ]
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[His tone was corrective and pleasant; chiding and smarmy. In the end, he didn't really care who or what graced his doorstep. A deal was a deal and when the offer of gold, of wealth, of anything worth his time came knocking at the door, Greed never denied the proposal.]
[But the mortal-lot had plenty to learn and his smile was terrible and wicked. As if he knew her fate in advance, as if he could see it play out piece by piece in the dark. The ticking of her clock in those naked eyes and slit-pupils thickened. Eternity in a flick before they shivered back to sharp points.]
Flattery will get you no where, lovely. But I'll take it anyway. [His heels bounced. Scuffing the floorboards to make dust jump and he circled the table to meet her. While one arm reached back to shuffle and snatch the long end of his coat - ankle length, worn leather, and something a pauper or a tradesman would wear. And probably did at some point, but that was neither here nor there.]
[Besides, the guy didn't need it anymore anyway.]
[The blade sunk in there - between the back bend of his leather slacks and a red-spun sash he wore around the waist. For the time, he both stuck out and blended in. Mistaken for a different breed, for someone high-society would mark an undesirable. But how wrong they were - the definition practically laughable.]
[Because in the end, it was he who desired all.]
Gold's fine, but I think you're going to have to do a little bit better than that this time. Especially since you've been so rude. [Greed hummed, touching his teeth with his tongue and maybe he was serious, maybe he wasn't. It was hard to gauge and she aptly pointed him as such. Unpredictable with his breeding and like the rest, he had plenty of other ideas in mind.]
[But he merely shrugged. Released the length of his jacket to let it fall back. Lapping at his ankles and the Sin dipped to bring his face to her own.]
You know how this works, though. I do this and it might not end well for you, later on. The others? Don't tend to like you and yours. [Greed's lips pressed together as his eyes wandered over her. Tracing out her legs, her thighs - the bump of her hips and the curve of her chest.] Thankfully for you, they're out doing good ol'Dad's work. Shouldn't be much of a problem.
[He moved past. Sliding and slipping, a shadow made of blood and sharp angles. Only to stop at her side, his gaze locking hard with a back wall.]
Just remember - I did warn you.
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[ And that was what it came down to. Her precarious business, of protecting those of the slums, came so hand in hand in slicing the throats of those that dared to cross her, interfere with the smuggling shipments. All matter of wicked things she did where no one could see her doing such.
And they called her unnatural, but weak for a woman. As if a woman had no stomach for violence.
She smiled still, because he played so will. Enjoyed this more than she should, most in the end bored her quick mind and quicker tongue when it came to deals. ] My flattery does nothing? And here I thought to court you with it. Such a shame. [ As if she were a knight and he the lady. But a courtship such as this, ended in blood. ]
Tell me what I can do to convince you then, to make up for my rudeness. [ Because she caught, so briefly the way he looked at her. And she'd gouged men's eyes out for daring to do so too many times. But she was content to play, with him and with this deal. ] Jewels? Whores? I've a shipment come in from China and my girls are the cleanest in the city. [ She'd feed his greed, even if he'd never be sated, for awhile, she could supply. ]
[ Her head tipped back in laughter at his warning. ] Caring for my well being, Greed? Don't tell me you're growing soft on me. I know what they say of me, what they think of me. [ as far as he lent in, she curled around him. Leaning back into him without touching. Let him look, as much as he liked, if that was what it took. Her fingers wrapped around the pearls that hung low from the neck, twisting them up and around before letting them tumble free, settling over her chest again. ] I am beginning a war by doing this. And believe me, I will win it.
[ Her smile spread slowly like a lion's grin. A mockery of the King's gone before when she likened herself to one. ] Be a dear and fire the first shot for me?
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[Greed sunk his nails into the desk. Scratched lines, made the wood peel-back into tightly-spun ribbons. Unlike many he dealt with, she was one of the first who ever challenged. Who dared to meet him at his own game and it was something he could appreciate.] All of it, but make sure the gals aren't hurt. Even I have a few morals, Tudor.
[The Sin turned his head to the window. The night would be chilled, slightly moist. An eerie in between that ushered in the changing of seasons and there would be enough fog to hide and dart: it was the perfect setting for a business proposition such as this. He'd have to thank her for the good timing.]
[But not right now. Instead, she was offering, and he wasn't about to back down.] Going to guess I can't ask you not to come with me, right? [He didn't like showing that side - that ugly side that mocked a smiling skull right back. Especially not to more feminine company, but then again, when was she so feminine. She looked the part, acted the part, but deep down she was something far more.]
[If he thought that she would last, he would have offered her up to replace someone else he knew all too well.] A war, huh? You're thinking a bit too small, but whatever you want, right?
[The Sin released his claws. Urged down the recede of his 'Shield as he slipped hand after hand into his pockets. He turned his attentions towards the exit, then. That smile of his courted and curved as he shrugged. As if this were merely a casual meeting between two good friends and not a ploy for murder and revenge.]
Lead the way, lovely.
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[ No one touched that which was hers. No one harmed them, for they were hers, and it was something like caring, something like savage possession that marked them as untouchable by the rest of the world. ] They're all yours, for the night that you choose.
[ A smile was all the answer he got. Still predatory, her pulse beating in her throat. It was unnatural -- and it was perhaps why they called her so. A vain, cruel, vicious woman. With a bloodlust that belong to the torturers of the tower, rather than to any lady of the street.
But the fact remained the same. It made her feel so alive. Burning and perfect and out of control. Made her giddy like some women blushed over their lovers. ]
For now, perhaps. Whatever you and yours plan is your business until it comes upon my streets. [ Carved out with a rusty blade, but all hers. ]
As you wish. [ She swept him a curtsey, mocking as it was. Then she stepped around him and his claws, ducking past him on sure feet. A dance, as she twisted and skipped -- heaven knows she'd always been fast where most took too much time. Lead them all a merry chase. ] It's past the docks, in the back alleys there.
[ There were things she wasn't telling him, in the end. Things that made her so particularly cruel that no one but a monster would do for it. She wanted him to know fear, before he died, and Greed was so much fear to behold when the darkness took him. With that thought, she hummed as she opened the door. Like it was the first of May and the young girls danced as she did now.
One quick flick of her wrist dismissed her men from her side, and she looked over her shoulder, watching and waiting for him. ]
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[Elizabeth moved like she was possessed. As if another one of his kin had taken her by whatever strings of humanity she had left and pulled. Snapping until each cracked back with the tightness of violin strings. Battering the knuckles, gashing them bloody, and she only reveled in it.]
[It was rare to find in the mortal lot: violence not a stranger, but this particular brand more a mutation. Something wrong in the gene pool, something off.]
[But that didn't seem to bother him too much.]
[Greed's laugh was airy and vile. Similar to the blow-out of bellow after collecting so much dust. The use of it stale and he followed behind her. Her shadow - little shadow crawling to bite and lap at her ankles.] So you are coming with me, then.
[The docks were a good place to start - a marked hunting ground for him in the past and he knew the old wood as good as the serpent crawling across the back of his hand. Each notch where someone might fall; where new planks had been applied and other left to rot. Either way, it could be done as a warning or to heed further suspicion to mark someone else for the deed.]
[It was smart and unsurprising that the idea should come from her.]
Gotta say - I've always admired your avarice - what's yours and is yours and what's mine? ["Is mine," he failed to say. She knew it already and as the men parted away, his hand went to the crook of the door. Pulling him out, like a creature from the ooze. Teeth and fangs; claws and eyes.]
[It was him and them that really bumped in the night.]
[Greed showed off his set, snapped at one of them that got too close, a sneer gracing up his jaw.] You still haven't given me a name, lovely. [He said, ripping away his vicious gesture to talk at her back.]
I'm curious to know just who pissed you off so much to come to me.
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The one thing every story got right, apart from her perchance for violence, she had been bemused to note, was that anything she had ever let go of, had claw marks in it. Pried from aching cold finger tips. Perhaps that was she why liked him best. There was no explanation, only a need to have. ]
I wondered that you ever asked whether I would stay behind.
[ A shrug, at his question, at his admiration, as if she had no need of it, but it was seldom a man ever commented a woman for her sins.
Plentiful as they were. ]
Marcus. I do not know his family name, I don't care to. I know his face. It is enough. [ Etched into her mind like only vengeance could mark such a thing. ]
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[Which was him and her - her and him. Two matched in bad-business and the Sin rolled out the point of his boot. Made it cut through the thick settlement. And he jerked his head over his shoulder, if distracted by a ghost or two, before shrugging.] Was worth a shot, anyway.
[Really, he didn't care the guy's name - Marcus, Johnathan, whatever - it was just a target, in the end. Like the rest left in his wake. Some names taken, others tossed aside.]
[It was just business.]
[Greed moved down an alleyway. One that twisted behind building after building, growing narrower as they passed. It was here that people spat and hid - darting when they saw him coming. Instincts on high and he could give them some credit:]
[At least they knew when something wasn't quite right.]
[It was bad company all around. The Queen with her claws and the man who harbored demons. Or was a demon. The stories had changed so many times, Greed had lost count in the last hundred years or so. Rumors turned to tales, tales to legends, and legends to bedtime whispers to keep children far away from the streets at night.]
[He pocketed his hands as his strolled, casual demeanor holding his shoulders, his spine. He walked with a practiced sort of motion, as if he had taken the route a million times before, the quip of smile glowing whenever they crossed a shallow window. When flame shivered and he swallowed it. Lapped it and licked it across the sharps of his teeth.]
Did you set him up already, or is this going to be a surprise visit? [Greed said with mild amusement. Though it was a hushed hiss to keep secrets between; to keep matters private as he nudged the jagged opening with a click of his elbow.]
Guess it doesn't matter either way.
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It might of been a dance, how they wove through the streets. The dark parts of the city that those who wished to be respectable avoided, and whores and thugs gave their trade. Her skirts already stained with muck even before this, her feet light as she stepped over the dirt that covered the ground.
But she tossed her head back, walking like she owned the cobble stones herself. The red hair she was so proud of turned to rust in the half torch light of poorly lit streets. Mistress of this place, no matter how ruthless the man she turned her gaze on, they would doff their hat and dip their head to her. And how she smirked for it, proud to the last. How she laughed when they told her as a girl, she should learn to fear the devil that hid in the dark.
They had stopped scaring her a long time ago, not when the cruelest thing she had ever seen was keeping company with her. ]
He drinks, with his fellows. [ There was a sneer. Loyalty came cheap. Whosoever of her men betrayed her often found that the gold was never enough by the time she was finished with them, and by the same contrast, fealty was rewarded in ample.
How happy it was for her, that Phillip's men were all traitors. Her lips parted further in a silent laugh that was between them both. ] He does not know they have sold him out.
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[Greed peeled out onto the main stretch, his grin smoldering. With a pinch and a flick, a rolled ignited. Helped by a match struck at the thigh, bringing the flames of Hell at his fingers. To caress his face, shining him in oranges that turned gold at his shades and his skin.]
[It was extinguished with a pinch that seemed like charcoal. His fingers suddenly too dark, too sharp and the Sin inhaled, sending smoke down into his core and out. Billows of it like serpents fleeing through his teeth as he tilted his head back in tow with her own. Found the pulse and stole it, too.]
Tsk - that's cruel, even for you. [He said with a slip of his eyes. Purples to watch as light flicked across the inky-black tide. Making lines where the moon crossed and both outlined in silver.] If you weren't human, she might have liked you.
[But he left it at that. Moving away and birthing room as he tossed heel over heel. Crossing and weaving, his neck sunk into his shoulders. He was a monster in every right: from the way he walked, to how he spoke. But unlike the others, Greed kept to a certain creed. He had tossed away the smoke and mirrors preferring the crueler side of the truth.]
[And almost, always, it won him far more favors.]
[Including the one present and the homunculus stopped at the cobblestone outside the edge of the docks. Rolled his shoulders with a slow-moving twist and his heels knocked against the thickly-spaced wood. Clack, went one. Clunk, went the other. Drawling, the proverbial reaper drawing near as teeth sunk into the end of rolled tobacco. Puncturing with a promise and he stopped once with a solid kick-back. Snapping the shelf of his boot to turn a glance over the fur-cuff of his shoulder.]
Last time, lovely. This is your chance to go on home.
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Thank you, Greed. [ a purr to mimic his own. Heady, inviting. She watched him, the tip of her tongue flicking against her top lip before she turned again to keep walking, contemplating what he saw in her with the gesture more than anything. ] I am human, and no one need like me but you.
[ With that she kept walking, confident in where she was going, that no one would dare stop her.
None save him.
She barely even noticed he stopped until the question cut through the evening mist. Her mind gone some place only she dare go to. Might kill anyone else for stepping into, or at least the look on her face said as much, when he asked. Elizabeth took a step forward, to him. Carefully she reached for him. Like a lover, or something else. Her head tilted to the side, not looking to meet his eyes, or not yet. She smoothed up his chest, curling her fingers in the fur and lost her earnest smile. ] Why do you ask me such tiresome questions? Think you to save me? Spare me more blood on my hands? [ She leant close, a whisper to his ear as he rolled his cigarette, like he was privy to some secret. Her eyes on the star as she spoke, lips there to tease and torment in equal measure. ]
I made my choice long before I knew you. Do not ask me such foolish things ever again, I tire of it. [ She let out a breath, kissed his cheek once more, and stepped away. ]
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[Up ahead, torches flicked. A few unloading their gotten-gains. Crate after crate piling high on the planks and they oozed of fresh fish. Still flopping, gasping for air. It was fitting in a way - how every second that passed, there was something just barely hanging onto life. Dying moments waiting in the balance and it wouldn't just be next-day's market that would be begging for the sweet release.]
[Greed walked with her, shoved his nose to the side of her head. He could snap her neck right then and there; have at everything that was to come. All for himself. But he wouldn't and she knew. That despite his claim to fame, she wasn't on the dinner menu.]
[Not yet, anyway.]
[But he watched the dock, his glance far away as it split the darkness and saw. Every fearful glance, every frozen step. Like time unwinding before him and the Sin was privy to everything. Skipped heartbeats, erratic pulses: it was the best sort of drug.]
[And oh, was he just itching for the chance to show off.] But as long as we're being honest with one another, you and I know you're far too gone to be saved. Don't play bullshit with me, lovely. [The homunculus smiled against her hair, against her skin. Let his breath caress her as much as so wanted to. To take her clothes, to steal her skin. Running his claws down her curves to make her sing so loud that even the dregs of the under-city could hear.]
[That wasn't tonight's plan, though. Which was slightly disappointing.] Mn. [Greed let her go and turned his hands back to his pockets. What a witch and such a tease. He was right when he made the comment.]
[Had Elizabeth been something more, Lust would have liked her.]
[Suddenly, Greed slowed his pace. Waltzing instead of walking and each clap of his heel made the whole deck shiver. As if it knew what was coming and he seemed to melt into shadow. Races of black across his skin and he spat his smoke out. Let it roll across the wood until his boot smothered it and it was only hell-fire ash chasing the cuff of his heels, the billow of his jacket.]
Why don't you do the talking first then? [The creature tilted his head, looked down at her at a diagonal glance.] May as well make him comfortable first, right?
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But her eyes were cold even as he drank her in, watching the street. She watched how he looked, and for a moment, she considered. It would be bliss. She could fuck a man like him, because he wasn't a man at all, and wouldn't fail her like all the others did.
When on earth had her expectations from life gotten so low?] Bullshit, Greed? When have I ever pretend to be anything less than what I am?
[ Her cardinal sin, pride. Wrapped in vanity wrapped in her hunger for more. ( Always, always more. ) She might lie to others, often and as easy as breathing, but with him, she gave more than she did to most, which seemed to suit him.
When his grip lifted, she took the moment to roll her shoulders and sigh deeply. Letting him and all the complications he presented go from her mind, the half meant warnings she wanted to snap out and the welcoming murmurs she wished to give. Slipping from one mask to another in the shadows. A woman had so many that she could don them like dresses, and Elizabeth found herself with more than most. Now it was just a matter of tweaking, tugging her dress down to leave her shoulders bare. Mussing up her hair and biting her lips until they went red and kissed-bruised.
Little more than a street harlot to look at. Might of passed better for it, if her eyes were not half so much worse, all the same, it let her slip by relatively unnoticed. He was gone from her mind then, her own men to meet that she had left on watch, to talk with briefly and give instructions with what she wanted done. When and where and how. They scurried like rats to her orders. And it was only so much time before they heard what she needed. A brief nodded, and she wound her way back to Greed.
Mimicking again, and she ever did. Miming others intention, mocking almost for it. But she smiled and dipped her head, wound her arm around his. Lovers on a promenade. ]
I've a gift for you. Will you come see? [ Angels could not look so sweet. But she nodded ahead to a bar, that seemed mostly empty but for a flickering candle through a grubby window frame.
( And this, was her favourite game. ) ]
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[But avarice-incarnate spared little, if any.]
[It was why it worked. Between him and Elizabeth. Eventually, time or the knife would take her and Greed would have to find someone else. But for now, the arrangement was simple: one scratched back exchanged for another and as Elizabeth took the lead, the Sin stayed behind her. Like the looming form of a shadow, the Nosferatu to take her when she least expected it.]
[But she wasn't so innocent and she had summoned him. All under the gaze of pretty lashes, pursed lips, and a naked shoulder.]
[Greed swayed with her stride, clacked when she clicked. As they towed down the length of the dock and the lights became dimmer and dimmer. Bringing in more of the thickness of night, shrouding what lay just below the surface. He could smell it more out here than he could before: the rotting stank of flesh, the crude growing old in barrels packed far over their capacity.]
[Humanity's greed was always impressive.] A gift, huh. [A low rumble from behind her and the homunculus slipped to her side. Watching the dock and the men that scurried when she came prancing across the wood. She was demented - deranged in her mirth. In her promise for carnage and revenge.]
[And Greed, if anything, was more than a little charmed.]
➥ CLOSED | @tigerscub
It's still not real
Ash and urn and silence
Talk to me."
➥ CLOSED | @tigerscub
"C'mon kid!"
Greed couldn't remember the rest. He knew, as the last train out was leaving, that Zelien was falling apart behind them. Taken by a sea of black that didn't stop. Eating away buildings, tearing apart steel. Stones crashed against the side of the cart and he was aware that she had said something. But he couldn't recall what. All that he remembered were the lights going out and that sick sensation of melting.
Then, the whistle blew.
Greed flicked open his pocket-watch: 10:03. PM, but the looks of it. Dotted windows lit up in warm gold passed by, the locomotive going at a steady pace. He had checked it - asked which way the train was heading.
The response was more of a surprise than he had anticipated. "Dublith?" The Sin turned his head, watched the woman at the back with a pursed lower-lip. "You sure?"
"Are you all right, sir? You don't look so - "
"Eh-," Greed had started as he waved his hand. The shock would pass and his system was already putting the pieces back together. "-yeah, don't worry about it, lovely. Just been traveling for a while." Which was the truth - Zelien was far away and this was. Well, it was home.
"What year is it?" He asked, distracted.
"Sir - sir are you sure you're all right?" The homunculus had lost track of her words, then. Eyes swiveling behind his shades, his thin-slits knocking wide and thin erratically. There was a newspaper - strung out across a passenger's face who was far more interested in sleep than the current conversation.
1918.
"Yeah, yeah. Like I said - been traveling a bit, hmn?" He met the bewildered glance of the stewardess with a toothy grin. "Didn't mean to scare ya."
A few tracks covered and a brief exchange had Greed padding back to the back-car. He had someone else to worry about at the moment, as much as his own need was begging for answers. Someone curled up into a vacant cart and Greed scratched a knuckle to the bare of his neck - ah, right.
His vest was thrown up on her - the best make-shift blanket he could offer, given the circumstances. Which were less than stellar. Maybe it had been a bad choice, grabbing her then. She had people - she had family. She wasn't a misfit or an outcast. Just a little girl, barely out of the safe reaches of a mother's arms, and yet.
Yet.
Greed hooked his heel into the arm rest of a seat. In his hand were two glasses - one filled with water, the other filled with something a little more. With his finger latched inside the lip of one, he gently padded the cool touch of glass against her cheek. Urging her awake.
"Oi, oi, oi - don't tell me you went and died on me, kid. You're a little too good for that."
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In a moment, all around her, everything had started to shatter apart. Buildings cracking, shattering, people screaming, everything making noise until it all turned into a single endless roar in Kaede's ears. She screamed, she thinks she screamed, cried out for Barnaby and Ivan and more than anything, her father. Her friends and family.
Then, amidst the chaos, even as she started to fall due to someone shoving her, a familiar face came up before hers. Greed. She doesn't think twice when he grabs her collar, just reaching up and lacing her arms around his neck before she gets pulled down by the tide, crying out in a scream of pure fear.
Her eyes close, but she feels her power activate. Across her skin, her whole body, the Shield comes to life and devours her flesh until nothing remains but blackness, her face buried into the collar of his vest.
Like this, she has no idea when she goes under, but under she goes, until something cold nudges at her cheek.
Her eyes slowly open and deeply, she regrets having to wake. Every inch of her body hurts, the after math of every muscle being tight, bruises from being shoved and slammed into, and whatever had torn Zelien apart. It all comes back in a rush and her eyes open completely, lifting to Greed and meeting his. She lets out a shaking breath, confusion and fear in her eyes as she stares. "Greed?" Her voice is rough from screaming, but she forces aching muscles to sit her up, looking around a train car like she has never seen before in her life. "What... Was that... another Rift?" Like they had experienced before in Zelien, assuming that is what it was. It had to be.
Right?
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Greed churns his wrist, making the liquor in his glass spin and the ice with it. The cubes chime against the sides, rolling and sloshing against one another while his eyes narrow slightly. He briefly wonders how many got out, how many didn't, before the train of thought's a little too sour and he sinks into his shoulders. Shrugs it off. "Doesn't look like the rest came with us."
Which points to an answer he doesn't really want to tell her. So he'll save it - at least, for now.
Greed lifts the scotch to his lips. Tosses it down his throat before a flick of a thumb catches the left-overs traveling the dip of his chin. He briefly pops it into his mouth, licks it clean. "Drink up, kid. We've still got an hour before we reach the station."
Again, the train whistles and Greed's lips pull into a mild snarl. His glance is a bit distant as he forces a grin to his face. "And I don't need you passing out on me just yet. Would only be more trouble for the both of us."
Not like they didn't have enough trouble as is. He's supposed to be two-years dead and she? Well, that's an entirely different can of worms Greed's not interested in popping just yet.
So, he shifts his ankles. Laces them as he settles his arms across the lengthy back-side of the worn leather passenger cart. A hike of the shoulder as him rocking to the side and he takes another glance at Zelien's parting gift. The hands still point at 10:03 and the second's twitching between one and two. As if stuck there, perpetually frozen.
The Sin pockets it. "Least I know where we are this time," he says, casually. "-and not much seems to have changed."
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"Where are we?" She jumps at the loud whistle, slowly sitting back down but she's shaking. "Zelien was- was breaking apart. It didn't look like the other Rifts."
Right! She pulls out her watch in a hurry and tries, desperately, to get her family pulled up, to reach out to them, but the fear continues to grow inside of her when she realizes that nothing is connected. Nothing reaches out. The feeds are dark.
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It's hard to watch, hard to listen to. "Give me an answer," her eyes seem to say. "-please, please, give me the right answer." Greed reaches out and peels forward. Away from his perch as two heels settle to the vibrating floor of the train. A whoosh of air sends them pitching through a black tunnel and the car-lights flicker and buzz to life with the slowness of a gas-fuse.
"-never said there wasn't a possibility. After all, there's no such thing as no such thing." Shadows wash over him. Caressing his jaw, his skin. Like a bad tide, lapping across his features. Making his angles that much more sharper as he pulls himself up into a semi-standing position. "Wait until we get off and then we'll try to it out, hmn?"
The wheels bounce and scrape against the iron rails below, making the noise echo in the long stretch of tunnel. As lights pass and flicker, Greed seems to dart in an out of shadow. As if there one minute and gone the next, but he doesn't move. And that ever-present grin gives him away, despite the physical tug-of-war between light and dark. Too bright are those teeth, too jagged.
When the train finally whips out of the tunnel, he's inches closer. Elbow shoved into a curve of leather. He's speaking softer, keeping a secret between him and his. "Home, well. Sort of."
The engine chugs and fields open up again. It's a bit different than last time. There's no military presence, not as much anyway, and there's machinery where there used to be plows. In the last few years, it seemed Amestris' new Fuhrer had done some landscaping of his own.
Greed grimaces and rattles his near-empty glass. He sighs, a bit dramatic, before casually pulling the collar of his vest up and over her neck.
"Just sit tight for now, all right? Don't want to draw any unwanted attention. Not exactly sure what we're dealing with yet." The Sin glances over his shoulder briefly. To the loosely-fitted door separating their cart and the next. He waves his fingers gently, letting them feather out across the glass before he claps over and snatches the knob. Lined up as his hip, Greed easily plants his back against the frame work and eases it shut with the audible clack of a lock.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
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She pulls the vest up a little more, looking outside of the window and recognizing absolutely nothing about it. "...Greed, what do you mean, home? Your home?? What is your home?" Her eyes go back to him, trying to make any sense out of this.
Excuse her while she holds onto the vest with tight fingers, all of her strength behind it, white knuckled, because it's the only thing she feels like she actually hang onto at the moment. In a heartbeat, in a roar, she has lost everything and she doesn't even know it.
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The Sin's eyes fall heavy and his smile is forced closed. A tight line as eyebrows knit just above his shades. "Dublith. Though, I can't really tell you how much is still there and how much has changed - I've been dead for at least two years, if what the papers say is true."
Which isn't so much of a shocker as it is a bold-faced smack of reality. Greed tightens up against himself as he passes her by: he doesn't want to address the elephant in the room, but there's still another hour before they make a stop. And even then, there's other things to consider.
Like how, why, and just what sort of game Zelien's pulled this time.
One eye peels open from behind his shades. A sliver of purple masked out in opaque-black. Another flicker of light catches them, pulls black to stark-silver, and Greed whistles through his teeth. "Snake-shark-man? I already told you before, I'm a homunculus. What you're implying is something else entirely and I'm sure they wouldn't take too kindly to the name-calling. It's a little rude." The Sin lets his words fall as a finger waggles back and forth. It's easier this way. Chiding when there should be comfort. When he should be sitting her down, telling it to her straight.
He's just not entirely sure that's what he wants.
So he switches the gears; snatches a leaflet from a flip-note in the back and peels it open. "And most here? Well, they've seen a bit, but don't go dropping our little secret. Might not be the best idea."
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His warning doesn't go over her head though. This is the kind of place where she shouldn't let people know what she is. She doubts people are called NEXTs here, as no one other than people from her world seem to know the term, but whatever they call that kind of person here, they are NEXTs in secret.
Remember that. This isn't like Zelien where it was okay to let some people know. "I won't tell anyone," she promises. Never mind that her name doesn't sound like she's from Amestris at all but from Xing.
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The Dwarf in the Flask.
So Greed snaps it closed. He doesn't need to know anymore.
"Eh, hope he's still around. Little tricky here, with foreigners." Not that he didn't have a connection or two to choose from. He's just hoping that prior transgressions won't be a problem. But even if they are, he knows just how to push and prod until he gets what he wants.
And more often than not, he finds that most are willing to oblige.
Greed tosses the pamphlet back over his shoulder, letting it fall splayed-open on the floor. The binding stretches and the papers spread out like feathers off the plume of a rather eccentric bird. "Good - wouldn't want you mixing up in all that business. They may have changed, but the military's just that."
They're the military. They're the government. And Greed remembers just how ruthless the good ol'Colonel can be.
So he mindlessly places an open hand on top of Kaede's head. Gives it a ruffle before slipping away again. He takes a glance at the next cart, prying the door open again. Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait too long for another one of the workers to pass by.
The Sin dips and coils in the mouth of the frame. Sways his hips to the side and it's a fabulous show to put on his best good-graces. "Wouldn't happen to have a few left overs from the dinner rush, would you? I got a young one in the back and she hasn't been this way before." The stretch of Greed's shoulders hides most of the woman's face, but bright-green eyes peer over. As if trying to catch a little glance, though it's quick. Easily smeared away as the Sin rocks to the side and shuts off the view.
He smiles then. Charming and deadly, coy and crass. "She's a little shy, lovely," Greed voice purrs. It's hard to hide it and he really doesn't make the effort. Had he been alone, he probably would have coaxed the attendant to the back. Shot the breeze, learned her name, and find out if she was interested. But things being as they were, and with a small package in tow, the Sin shelves the idea for now. "I'm sure there's some Dublith Coddle somewhere here, right?"
"Ah - ," the woman speaks, a little off guard. She's looking at his jaws, at his sunglasses. For a moment, she seems taken back. A deer in the metaphorical headlights and it's the big-bad-wolf behind the wheel.
She collects herself respectively. Smiles and nods. "I'm sure there's a bit left. Just one?"
"Just one - and a scotch," Greed illustrates, his fingers rising off the wood frame. "On the rocks."
The woman leaves, closing the door behind her with a softer click than Greed had given it prior. The homunculus scratches at the back of his neck, then. Frowning with the opportunity lost, but it's with mild humor that his face contorts.
Ah, well.
"I hope you're up to a little bit of a walk. It's not that far, but we're a little ways from the station."
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It's more than most eleven year olds know what to deal with when it comes to politics. Still, she hears him asking about dinner and her stomach grumbles, agreeing with his idea. Huh, he doesn't have to eat? Or just doesn't want to?
So when he comes back, she gives him a look. "I can talk to people you know. In two different languages." Not particularly realizing that the tongue of her family would match with the origin of her name in this world. "What do you mean, do I mind walking? From a station?"
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"Didn't doubt you could, but I don't think it'll do you much good here. Unless you've picked up some Ishvalan or Xingese that I'm not aware of." Both of which, he couldn't make heads or tails of himself. Ling had given a message once - scribbled it on a length of fabric for his fine-second-in-command. Asked it to be delivered. Greed had stared at it just as blankly. Blinking a few times before he shrugged and did as he was asked.
In all the time he spent with the young prince, the Avaricious just didn't find it crucial to learn the language. Or any other, for that matter.
So he just simply didn't bother.
The Sin reclines his head back to watch the ceiling. It's a little much - having her with him, returning home. He should be dead - should be long gone with not a trace to remember. Him and his might have been built stronger than the mortal lot, but they left behind nothing to mourn. Nothing to show they had even existed at all. To anyone normal, it may have been a bit of a wake up call. Or a means to humble.
Greed only smiles.
"A train station - I thought you would have picked up on that. You're not that dense." The homunculus tilts his head to the side, showing off a bit of a sneer with one eye closed. His sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose, giving his wide-eyed glance a look-see. Under the constant flicker-flutter and buzz of the lights above, his slit-pupils pulsate. Filtering in the light, shutting out the dark. He's a monster, but at least he's proud of it.
Two fingers hitch to the rounds of his shades to right them and Greed claps his heel back. "It's my place - or it was. Not sure how it'll look now, but it's the best we've got - " His voice filters off, turning to a soft vibration when the door opens again. It's a different teller this time - male, late twenties. In one hand is a medium-sized plate and cover and in the other a half-emptied bottle of scotch with a glass half full of ice.
"On the house," the man says, slowly peering up to get a glance. Almost like someone on the scene of an accident - he just can't look away. "-I know ... how hard it is to be a Dad these days."
Which makes the Sin scoff. Eyebrows raising, jaw slung open. He's stuck there for a moment before a laugh takes him. Grabbing by the shoulders, the stomach, and Greed buckles over with a thunderous howl. "You've got it all wrong friend, but I won't deny the offer."
Before the waiter can even argue or take-back the one-time-deal, Greed's got the cache in his hand. The dinner-plate and matching-silver-cover is hoisted high above his head and the scotch and glass settle against the outer round of his thigh. "Thanks pal."
He practically ushers the other out. With his straight-still stance, with teeth that seem to snip and snatch the air when he speaks. And once the helpful-hand is gone, Greed toes the door shut.
"We'll be there in about half an hour," the Sin says and turns back to Kaede. He tosses the meal onto a nearby seat rather haphazardly as he takes up the spot currently occupied by his emptied glass. Two heels are thrown up on the backside of the chair in front and Greed spins the newly-acquired bottle open.
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It isn't familiar but it smells okay, so she snags the fork and digs in. This has to be another Rift, right? Dad and Barnaby and Ivan and everyone else is somewhere nearby, right? Yes. Has to be. So she isn't panicking (yet) nearly as much as she might have if she knew the truth.
"He was just trying to be nice, you know." Okay the food is definitely different. She eyes it a little harder, but it's edible and even though she might be pickier elsewhere, she deals with it for now.
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"Oi, oi, oi - " The Sin starts, his eyes rolling behind his shades. For a second or two, there's a put-off look on his face. As if he's slighted by her correction, by her statement. "-wasn't anything personal, y'know. I'm just not that good of a guy."
But he slides his feet away as he watches her. She's hungry: it's a good sign. That there's still some light at the end of the proverbial tunnel and as the train takes a turn, Greed clips his drink by the rim. "Not that bad, right? Used to be a favorite. Least, around the 'Nest."
The Sin takes another drag from his scotch, slipping his tongue over ice before there's a crunch, a split and shards tumble down his gullet. He sets the glass down afterward, shooting a heel up to cradle against the opposing knee.
"Feeling a little better?" Greed says, as he slouches forward and turns his head back to her. He knows she isn't - there's too many missing pieces of the equation for her to be remotely all right. But, it's a start.
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Too bad it hadn't been a Rift at all.
"The Nest?" Kaede questions after swallowing a mouthful. "And... I guess so, but Dad and everyone else have to be worried. I hope we can find everyone at this station you're saying is coming up." Oh, how little they both know for the moment.
She wriggles a bit to get his vest off of her, offering it back for now. "...how long has it been since you were here, then?"
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Until he woke up, body splayed, in the cart of a train.
Greed's frown tightens when she starts talking. She's human: she's different. The Sin doesn't understand family, not in the way she does. But that's not entirely right either, is it? "They're the only part of you that you chose!"
A thumb touches the glass and Greed picks himself up and out of his seat. He doesn't like this: this feeling clawing at his skull. Then she's asking something again and he tilts himself back on his heels. Spinning with the intricacy of a dancer until the point of his boot claps him still. He 'tsks' with his tongue and recoils into his shoulders.
"If what the say is true, it's been a while. It was 1912 the last time I was in Dublith and from there? Well - " There's a story, but it doesn't need to be told. Not now, not to her. It just isn't worth the trouble and Greed suddenly falls into a crouch. Knees splayed out and he jerks a thumb and forefinger back at her. "Doesn't matter though, right? We're here, at any rate."
Humans are frail. Fragile and easily breakable. A gunshot can stop them dead, but so can bad news. Emotional and unpredictable: Greed's not sure which direction she's going or where it'll take her. But lying's just not in the cards and he sits his elbows on his thighs.
He settles on a delay instead. "Like I said before: there's no such thing as no such thing. Might as well give it a shot, right?" As if to save him from the awkward situation, the train's comm crackles to life. Not with electronics or anything remotely advanced. But through the literal pipe-line and a voice echos inside carbon and copper: "Fifteen minutes until we enter Dublith Station. Please have all luggage readied for departure. I repeat: fifteen minutes until docking with Dublith. Please make sure to take all belongings with you. This train will making it's last stop and switching to a South-bound rail upon departure. Thank you."
Greed rocks his head to the side, fanning his hands over his knees. "Better finish up, kid."
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Then Greed drops an absolute bombshell, making Kaede's eyes go wide, the fork falling from her hand to clank against the plate as she stares up at him. "...W-What? Did you just say 1912!?" Her voice goes up to a shriek for a moment in her utter shock. "No way! No way! It's almost 1980 back home!"
Never mind that the years are so vastly different between their two worlds that Greed might have said 'the stoneage' comparitively. 1912 Sternbild is still more advanced than 2014 for us.
The announcement over the train's PA system makes her groan, brushing hair behind her ears. She's in another world and has gone back in time and she has no idea where her family is. NOW the panic is starting to settle in.
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Greed's about to reach out and touch her, but he remembers just what sort of reaction that entails and he coils his fingers back to his palm. Her loud eruption has him standing, miming that of a meerkat out of its hole. Staring over his shoulder, watching to see if any caught wind of what she had to say. Thankfully, the door's secured shut and it's still just him, her, and the atom-bomb dropped.
The Sin presses a pinkie into his ear, his frown more like a dog that accidentally chewed up the corner of an expensive couch. He should have eased her in, but dodging the truth just wasn't in the cards. "It's 1918, if that helps any."
It doesn't.
The train starts to slow under them. Shifting to another set of tracks to send them straight into the mouth of town. His eyebrows knit and furrow - short cut and he sways his wrist to the air. "I guess it's fair to say it isn't like any other Rift then, is it."
He doesn't like this. Whatever the feeling is. Sinking and churning in his gut, going bad in the acid there. The homunculus grinds his teeth briefly before slipping to the side of the car. The latch at the exit door's easy enough to pick and he throws it open with a gentle click before motioning her forward. "C'mon. We'll get off before anyone even notices we were here."
Greed pries the door open with a shudder and the wind whips into the cabin. Tossing the leaflets of the pamphlet as if they were only dust on the ground. In the lash, he holds himself at the cusp of the railing and says one thing that's both surprising in his ears and sour in his mouth:
"I'm sorry, kid."
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He is insane! He can't seriously be- he's going to JUMP? Whoa- Wait-
"Did you say we?"
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But he's not a creature to sit around and admire the beauty of things.
Instead, he slips over, wedging himself between the edge of the door and the bolt itself. Half-way inside the cart and teetering on the balance of falling straight out onto the rolling hillside below. Greed sneers then, dastardly with the flare of the 'Pit shining through each tooth.
She is quick. "We," Greed says, as he flips an index to the sky and circles it. "-figured that was kind of implied."
She's got her things, has her nap-sack, and Greed knows she'll have the 'Shield as soon as he grabs her. So he does - by the wrist, ensnaring his thumb and index-finger around her bones like that of a make-shift hand-cuff. He jerks a little more lightly though, as to not send her head-over-tiny-heels off the train cart, and gestures to the open spot on his back.
"Get on. Unless you'd rather stay here." The air makes his sunglasses quake and takes his voice out and away with a Doppler's effect. He can hear it in his ears, the way it's hard to make out just exactly what he's saying. But he hopes actions speak louder than words and as the iron-clad wheels below screech and pump, Greed dips a bit lower to give her some leverage at his shoulders.
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With a heavy swallow, looking back into the empty car, she longs for the Hundred Power so she could make this hop not only easily but more safely. Why am I even thinking about doing this...?! Maybe because he has her wrist in a tight grip that suggests he isn't about to let go.
Before she can psych herself out anymore, she takes a jump and hops up onto Greed's back, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, and hands on for dear life there. "If I get hurt I am going to find a way to hurt you, Shield or not!" she threatens into his ear, shouting over the wind.
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The train chugs along, scraping against copper-steel track with a deafening holler of a whistle from the front. Greed peers at it once; a very brief notion as he shoves his head out to the whip-lashing wind. They're moving pretty fast, the ground under them just a blur in the near-pitch black of it. A few lights ignite it every so often; from the sparks on the line below, to the gas-lights dotting the rail-line.
Greed circles his arms around her legs, holds her still, and jumps.
At first, it's like silence. As he shoves a heel out and angles it down. The noise happens afterward; as rocks scream and jump under the dig of his boot. He skids for a good few seconds, carving out his own scar in the earth as his other ankle flicks out to make for the breaks. Sliding it to the side, as if he knows what this line of recklessness holds for him. The curved-tip of his boot springs up, slicing the wind as his thighs spread and tense.
Eventually, after dirt and gravel paves out to dust and grass, Greed finally slows down. The train they had been on is far ahead of them, groaning and chiming as it disappears around a bend. The Sin pops up laughing a bit to himself as he sees it pass around the curb.
"See - that wasn't so bad, was it?"
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In fact, all he'll get is a little whimper of sound and if he looks down, he'll see that the Shield is up, and covering any available inch of skin.
She's terrified, and her power is activating for her regardless of how she feels about it.
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He starts in, shoving his thighs apart as he gingerly tries to pry her off. She's holding on for dear life and each inch of her is carbon-cold and smooth. Greed tests his own sharpened points and they flutter against the outer-shell. Ping, goes one. Clack, goes another.
One eye's shut lazily, the other only hanging up with the thread of a lid. He's good at the off-put expression and he isn't really concerned. But if they're going to get anywhere without a curious glance or two, she's going to have to at least try.
"Tch, jeez. You are more trouble than you're worth." But instead of forcing it, Greed hikes her up a bit further. He doubts he'll get a lot more out until they're on better footing. Or at least until they're as far away from the tracks as they can get. "You still with me?" The Sin says as he sags his body over to make up for the extra weight. It doesn't really bother him much and he's carried a bigger load before.
Ground shifts under his footing and he's pushing through the dark. Climbing up the side of a shallow hill. Dublith isn't that far and he supposes he owes her at least this favor.
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She clings to him like a burr as he walks, looking around in the darkness. "Why did we get off the train anyway?!"
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Some, being the key word.
"That and I'm not sure how far the boys in the blue have gotten since last time."
That's all he says on the matter though. She doesn't seem to be letting go and that's fine. Greed makes easy over a few shaky rocks, prying himself up the hill with little effort. The town's just in sight and it's simple. Made of cobblestone, brick, and wood. Hardly anything that would be impressive, considering where she's from.
He does take a moment, though. To pause at the edge as his head rocks back. It's been a long time since he was last in Dublith. "Just do me a favor and try to hold back, hmn? At least until we get there."
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Still, she does murmur a second, "I'm sorry," that sounds more heart felt than the original. "So will the military, that's the blue guys right?, try to hurt me?"
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"No, but I imagine a lot has changed since I was last around." The city opens up as they draw near; houses become clearer, the ground below them far more stable. Most of the windows have gone dark at this hour, though some still linger with a candle or two. Still dripping wax, waning with the early-onset of morning.
Greed pulls away from them though. Exchanging the rich orange-yellow for deep blues. For shadowy purples that chase the silvery-touch of moonlight. He takes a sharp left, veering a corner carved out of a rather shallow alleyway. It's a maze - of back ends of houses, of shops closed up and boarded shut. And the more they press in, the more gloom the surroundings become.
It's clear that the Sin's familiar to the territory, but it's not exactly a place a child like her should wander. At least, not alone.
But this time, little Red Riding Hood's got the wolf in her back pocket. She only needed to say the word.
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But there's nothing.
"...where are we going?" she whispers softly, as if afraid her voice will disturb the late-night silence. Greed clearly seems to have something in mind, but if he's right and he's been gone for all that time, where could he know to go?
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It's here that he lost it all.
But he doesn't tell her that - she doesn't need to know. It isn't her place, isn't her history, and it sure as hell isn't going to help the current situation. Instead he just says: "My place."
There's more people when the alleyway opens up and the maw births a bit more life. Some doors still hanging open with drunken whispers. A few people perk up when he rounds the corner, but they don't move to ask. Maybe an eyebrow raised there, a glance here. But most of them look just as haggard as Kaede must feel - deep circles round the eyes, lips cracked and split where time hadn't been too kind. They watch with a glazed-over sort of look, as if the world could pass them by and they could care less.
Greed sags when they get to the mid-way point. When a few of the overhanging bulbs flicker, as if they hadn't seen some use. It's here, that the left-over dregs dwindle again and there's good reason. There's an opening to to left, a tunnel. Boards dot the rounded frame, giving a look of gnarled-wooden teeth in the dark. A monster of sorts, one the imagination could play tricks with ten-fold.
But above is something familiar. Something she should recognize fairly quickly. It's letters are a bit faded, the sign a bit more cracked than it had been five years ago. It groans and creeks, swaying just slightly with a small gust.
"The Devil's Nest."
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Greed had been replicating his home in this world!
"...no one's lived here in all that time?" she whispers, looking around. This doesn't look like the kind of place that frequented a lot of traffic by any means, but right now, it seems better to be inside where it seems safer than out here, waiting for some sort of military to come capture her because she can't control her power.
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Another board comes loose easily enough with the help of a claw or two. Greed scratches at the side, willing it out before he grips the upper-bend of the entrance. The stairs leading down below are covered in debris; old newspapers, a few cups here and there.
And of course, the bullet casings. Those hadn't been disturbed.
Greed shuffles inside, slipping down the small stairwell. There's more evidence to what really transpired here all those years ago. The claw-marks brisking and bouncing down the walls; like a language all on their own. He ignores them. Though unlike their small bout on the train, the Sin's face looks a tad more grim.
"Hurry up - before anyone notices, hmn? Not really interested in the company."
At the bottom, a ladder hangs loosely. It's screws have seen better days and the metal making up the entirety of it's littered in rust marks. Making patch-work on the surface and some of the outer-casing is frayed back. Like paper peeling away. Greed takes hold of a rung, hoisting himself up. A few shakes test its integrity and it's fine by his account.
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Still, with no where else to go, no one else to turn to, she makes even more of a face as she wraps her hand around the bar. Ew. She follows after him though, wishing she felt better about any of this that he was taking her into. What if someone's hidden inside or something!?
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Greed's heels knock hollow as he slithers inside and a few bullet casings roll away from his feet. Half the bar's torn up; splintered and brittle with cob-webs drawings lines across it. Above them, a lamp sways in a light breeze coming from a window. But other than that? It's quiet. Dead like a graveyard and Greed doesn't make a sound.
It's been a long time.
He stops just outside the hatch, reaching his hand inside to help her. Hopefully, they can skip the twenty questions for now. This isn't exactly where he wanted to bring her, but with little options, it seems the best choice.
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"..." It's clear from her changing expression she wants to say something, but really, she doesn't know what. There's still a state of numbness that comes from too many shocks, one after another, in the last hour.
She wants to go home. She wants her dad and Barnaby and Ivan.
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Greed runs his fingers across the banister. It's familiar and broken. And like a toy found on the side of the road, it births a sense of nostalgia. A gut-twisting sort of expression that makes the insides tumble. Greed doesn't know it, doesn't really get it. But oh, does he feel it.
"It was a long time ago," he says flippantly. As he flings out his hand and offers her a shrug from the back. It doesn't matter anymore. Not when she's been dragged hallway to the pit and back with little more to spare. She's missing what makes her her. All safety blankets ripped right off and it's just the bitter cold to keep her company.
"Besides, the rumors would be enough to keep anyone out." The Sin turns over to look at her. "Oi, oi, oi.."
Kaede looks defeated. Damaged and broken with her choked-still silence. Greed swipes his hands back to his pockets as he walks towards her. Hunched over, bringing his shoulders raising. The red notches on his body stretch when his muscles tense. "It isn't all that bad, you know."
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She looks around the broken room and fights hard not to let any tears fall. She's been through a lot in her life, but this is pushing her. "...I don't know what to do except find him and the others when we can."
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It's hardly the kind of news that's easy to break.
But Greed can see it in her eyes; humans are easier to read. Plain, simple: emotion practically exposed with each tear she holds back; she knows. Somewhere deep down that this isn't at all right, that something's terribly wrong. So he places a hand on the top of her head, hitching his fingers in slightly to graze a scalp. "Remember what I told you before - there's no such thing as no such thing. More than likely, they're around. Somewhere."
Where being the opportune word of the evening. They could be anywhere, anytime. The fact that the two of them even made it to the same place is against the odds. But sometimes, fate has a funny way of playing to his favor.
"No point in it now, so what'll it be? Going to stay here, or are you going to try to do this on your own? You don't know this place very well and there's certain things you should know," the Sin hums, slowly slipping his fingertips from the nest of her hair. "-it's your choice. Whatever you want."
But he does crouch down to meet her at eye level. He's not a comfort - he knows that too well. He can't give her the same solace a parent can and he certainly just isn't the sort. But -
- but it isn't like he hasn't had to break people out of their shells before. "Why don't you stay and work for me? At least, until this all gets settled out. Then you can decide what you really want to do."
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But Greed hasn't hurt her in the past, and does seem like he's trying to help now. She can't be mad at him or scared of him, just the situation. "...will you help me find them if I stay here?" She looks back at him, wetness in her eyes but she's stubbornly not letting them fall, trying to be strong. The others have to be out there, somewhere.
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Dipped low, Greed circles around her. So that he can meet her face to face; his lips are contorted, twisting as she braces around herself for comfort. He can never really understand how she feels - what it's like to feel that way. But he can take a gander.
So he slips a hooked-knuckle under her chin. Forcing her to look up at him as a slight smile twists up his face. Even like this, the notion comes off a bit smarmy. It can't really be helped: what he is, what kind of creature he's made to be. But despite the crookedness of his nature, Greed crouches down to meet her.
"I'll try, but I can't promise you anything, kid. It's not like this is normal." Greed releases his finger from her chin and lets his hands sink between his splayed-knees. "But nothing's impossible, right?"
His teeth glint when a stray light above decides to make its presence known. With a shivering-flicker, forcing the electric current through.
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"Thank you," she says quietly. If he'll try, since he knows this place, then maybe they stand a chance. "We'll find them if-" she stops sharply when suddenly a bulb comes on above, making her head jerk as she looks up, confused. Why would the light come on in an abandoned place? Does someone know they're here?
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The Sin presses his palms into his thighs as he moves to stand. It's true - the 'Nest practically lives as a haunting now. The lights flickering in and out, the slow groans from down below. It's the final resting place for some and a rumor for others. Greed's face lights up when the bulb pulses again; dimming in and out before going dark again.
"C'mon - there are rooms upstairs. Just don't mind some of the stuff that's still there, yeah?" He side-winds her. Jerking around with the buck of a hip, a pull of the torso. It's dodging the obvious questions there, instead pointing to her own predicament. He isn't too keen on opening up that can of worms and it's better than she doesn't know anyway.
"I'll see if anyone's heard anything. Not sure if they're still around, but Dublith's never been shy on secrets."
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"...tell me about this place when it was still a bar?" She asks. Rather hear him or herself talking than the shudders of wood talking.
He'll have to deal with a little girl holding his hand, though.
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What it used to be.
"Eh - not really a story someone like you should hear," the Sin says as he shows her up the stairs. "-but I guess there's no use hiding it."
The feeling is something he's felt only once before. A twinge; like a vice snaring him from the inside. Tightening around his core and begging for a payout: for revenge, though he'll never get it. "They were mine."
Up the stairs is a hallway. Just as gloomy and dank as the rest. Windows had been left open and now they, too, are in pieces. Letting the torn drapes waft as the wind shifted. It's cooler on the second floor; a chill catching through the floorboards.
"Ran into a little bit of trouble. I guess you could say I never really got along with the rest of them." The six others. Sins incarnate with legs to walk, with voices to speak. He was the oddity out of them all; separate from the others and this had been his would-be kingdom. Made in wood, carved in liquor.
In all the things he really wanted.
But that's old history. Older now that things have come and gone. And he's the only one left.
But even that isn't entirely right either.
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"Why would that affect your bar?" She jumps a little as a bit of cloth moves, and hisses a little. "Stop that! We're not here to be scared!"
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From the street outside, there are whispers in the dark. Barely audible, but enough of a chit-chat to break the silence. Greed clips up to the upper hallway, dodging any belongings that could be in his path. There's a sword sheathed and propped up against the wall, a hammer next to that. "We never saw eye to eye. You could say I left the rest of them back in Central a long time ago."
Greed slips a thumb into his belt loop and lets this fingers spread across the outer edge of his thigh. She wants a story, but it's not the type she's really looking for. "I've been doing this for about two-hundred years remember? Well, it wasn't always like this."
There's a door at the edge of the hallway. Darker than the rest with a faint-line of silvery blue coming from the bottom edge. Greed knocks it with his elbow and it groans open. Slowly swinging wide to a bedroom. It may not be as expected: a bed that's older with stains to match. A dresser that's practically alight with cobwebs.
"I told you before - I'm not exactly a good guy, kid."
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"There's other- um- Homunculi?" Guessing on the plural because Homunculuses sounds stupid. "How many? ...and two hundred years..." The last bit being murmured. She can't imagine the concept of living that long.
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Greed slithers on in, passing by each piece of furniture as if it's familiar. And it is; the dresser, the floor. The walls that are slightly stained to the mute-color of coffee. He touches floorboard of a bedpost, gliding his fingers across it with a minimal hum.
"There are seven deadly sins, kid. And each one he cast off." For a moment, his tone turns dangerous. Vile in his throat when he says him. But with his back to Kaede, the snarl's missed. "There are seven in total, but I'm not like the rest."
Or was.
"Doesn't matter. They're all gone now."
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"You're not like the rest because you're not gone. You survived and they didn't." She could understand the context of 'gone' in this sense, her chin coming up a little. "That means you're better than them." She still had his power, and even subtly, it still effects her in a sense.
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His fingers wrap around a drawer to the dresser, pulling it wide open with the spindle-snap of cobwebs. The brass-silver handle knocks back when he drops it and the tips of his fingers are coated. Dusty with the remains.
Greed brushes them across his thigh before snatching a bottle inside. "But it looks like things have changed a bit."
The glass he removes is old. Older than any of the others smashed below. With a rope wrap cinching the neck piece and Greed lowers his head. His teeth find the thick cork bottled at the top and he yanks his neck to pop it open. Before spitting the remnants into a palm just waiting at his side. "I should be with the rest of them. But then again - "
He doesn't need to say it: she already knows.
There's no such thing as no such thing. And his existence here just proved the fact.
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She walks over to the bed and pokes it, making a face at the dust that comes off of it. "Greed, I can't sleep on this! Seriously, this is disgusting."
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"Ha -! That isn't really how it works - it's not like this could do much to me." For emphasis, the Sin rattles his wrist back and forth. "I told you before: I'm built tougher than most."
But when Kaede protests again, Greed closes an eye. As if he's slightly put-off by her voice of protest. But he coils finger after finger around his liquor, edging one foot forward. "It isn't that bad," he trails back to the bed, setting down the bottle on a nearby nightstand. On closer inspection, it's obvious that the linens have collected some dust over his lengthy absence. Greed snatches the end of a sheet, tearing it out from the slip of the bed.
"Tsk - you know out of everything, I figured that'd be the least of your complaints. Fine - " He tosses it aside, letting the fabric slip from his fingers into a pile on the floor. "But it's not like I have a lot left here."
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But maybe Greed is in trouble in this place, still. She isn't sure but something isn't quite right. What it is that isn't right, she isn't sure or how to deal with that itch. Maybe she could find something out in the morning.
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When they've got nothing left to lose, that is.
But Kaede has plenty to lose: her life, her family. The situation is cruel and Greed makes a small groan of protest. "C'mon," he says as he tosses his head to the side. With bottle in tow, Greed settles down on the bed and his foot notches into the wood frame still holding at the edge. "-a hotel really isn't going to work."
And while the gesture is a silent one, sometimes silence speaks more volumes. "I told you, didn't I? I don't let anyone take what's mine." The homunculus leans his back into the worn mattress; it feels familiar under his back, even if the smell isn't exactly the same. "And I always take care of my own, Kaede."
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"We're partners." Right. She can live with that idea. Still, as he unfolds himself onto the bed, right now she wants to poke her nose into the rest of this place and see if she can manage to find something that isn't so unnerving. Considering how long it looks abandoned, she isn't sure that's possible.
Ug, it's going to be a long night. "If we're staying here, can we clean it in the morning?"
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"Partners, huh." The last one who had called him a partner was a little older. Not by much and still a kid in any sort of comparison. But she and him did share a lot: wanting, needing. Defiant but true to their own set of moral codes. Greed's lower lip purses out a bit and he locks his ankles together.
Finally, and not without an elongated sigh, he says: "Sure. But there are some paces you're not allowed to go to." With an index out, he points to the floorboards. "There's an exit leading down. It's off limits until I say otherwise."
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"Don't give me that look." Kaede shakes her finger at Greed. Really, she has no fear of him. Fear of stupid things he does, like jumping off of a moving train, but none of him. No, not when she can match him and he's done not only nothing to hurt her, but has tried to protect her.
But of course, if you tell a child 'no', they're going to get curious. Her expression changes to match. "Why? What's down there?"
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Then again, he also isn't the type for violence. Especially against a woman.
But when she presses more, the homunculus goes in for the kill. Swallowing down the liquor until half the bottle is drained. A breath of a sigh escapes him soon after. Noxious and toxic just like the booze he's pounding.
"Just do me the favor. It isn't something for someone like you."
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"Can we go out in the morning? I need to find the others and like, know where we even are. My power isn't that obvious, and I don't even know who I'm supposed to be worried about! Some dudes in blue uniforms. Janitors wear blue uniforms."
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Greed pauses. With his lower lip pursed out and the bottle hangs just in front of his face. He gives a slight roll of his eyes, setting the butt-end of the glass to his chest. "Yeah, we can. Right now just isn't the best time."
When she continues, he leans over to put the bottle on the nightstand. There's more people outside. Lingering conversations that catch his ear before he folds both arms behind his head. "State Alchemists," the homunculus says and his eyes wander to the ceiling. The crooked wood has held up pretty well, all things considered.
"-though they probably won't care too much about you."
I realize I don't know if you play Greed from Brotherhood or the 2003 FMA.
There is also the inherit being of his nature that is leeching into her personality. That's why she wants more. greedy.
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Still, maybe things had changed. Maybe they hadn't. It would take more than a few hours to figure it all out. "Military," Greed says, his voice more hushed now. The dark outside turns his skin a little whiter. As the moon sends a soft glow into the room. It looks haunting this way, but somehow it's comfortable. "-they practice the laws of alchemy. Remember what I told you?"
The homunculus gives two small taps to his temple. "Equivalent exchange - can't make something without giving something up. That's their law anyway." A glint of his teeth in the dark could give the crescent a run for its money. "But I've been gone a while. I'm not sure what's happening now that the world hasn't ended."
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She still really isn't sure what an alchemist is, but military is something she can understand. "What does it mean to practice alchemy? And doesn't a law mean people break it all the time?" Villains do that.
And what are you, in this world? Are you a hero? A villain like you claim?
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Greed didn't bother looking at her. Kids were always trouble - kids always asked too much. Why, how, when: she doesn't need to know and he isn't interesting in telling. A story already dead and gone; Greed's not even sure how it all ended.
"Not that kind of law," the Sin chides back. His smile purses as he slowly bounces a heel off the opposing ankle. There's a low beat coming from down the street - another bar probably. With his already six-feet-under, Greed's not too surprised someone else picked up his usual clientele. "-physical law. You can't gain anything without sacrificing something else first."
Even him and his fall in the category. Gaining life at the sacrifice of thousands - the idea isn't lost on him. Never had been. "Does it really matter?" Greed slides his gaze to her finally. She's a bit closer than he expected, but it shouldn't be a surprise. Alone and lost and he's the only thing tethering her back to a life she knows.
A sigh escapes him. Sounding off like someone who's slightly annoyed. "You going to ask me questions all night, or are you actually going to sleep at some point?"
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After all, she is 'his'.
Maybe he is hers, in his own way."You're a jerk," she mutters, making sure even if her head is a bit buried in her arms that it's loud enough for him to hear it.
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When she shoves him, the homunculus budges. He throws the offending leg over the other and makes a sort of 'tsk' when she continues to silently protest. Kids aren't his forte - never were. But they're honest. Her discomfort is easy to read and Greed merely tilts his head back just a bit. "You know, that's not very nice."
It isn't remotely what she's looking for. He knows that even if he doesn't entirely get it. His hand spreads and one arm loosens from the niche behind his skull. A moment later and he's got all five fingers on top of her head.
"Wouldn't be the first time someone's called me that," Greed whispers. His voice is rough, but solid. "-at least you're finally starting to get it." That he wasn't normal, nor was he the hero she's been looking for. But as his fingers spread and those rough pads slide through her hair, he figures it's enough.
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Her dreams are far from easy, and her fingers end up clenching the material of his pants through the night, hanging on tightly.
The question is, what will happen come morning? The lights in the bar hadn't gone unnoticed.
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He knows the 'Nest. All of its quirks, its secrets. The groaning of pipes that haven't been used, the flickering of lights begging for someone to take a look at. It's all a relic of what used to be - who he used to be. Staring back at him, mocking with all of its old promises.
Greed grimaces again and he's thankful he doesn't have the extra company.
He makes sure the entrance is barred and that the rest of the building is clear before heading to his destination. Out of every cranny and crooked corner, it's the last out of the set that he's been doing his best to avoid. Deep down below, where the bar ended and the basement opened up. An exit that had been meant to use when everything else had gone south. An escape, though even that hadn't worked to his liking.
Greed's crouched at an open hatch. The water below isn't running as quickly as it used to. It barely moves, collecting in some places and sloshing in others when something stray flitters across the surface. He narrows his eyes into the dark before lifting himself back up straight.
A second later and he leaps down into the hole.
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That's when she notices she's alone. "...Greed?" She calls out, but he's clearly not in the room. Her ... partner (no, not guardian, not protector) seems to have vanished while she slept. So slowly she gets herself out of the ancient bed, feeling hyper aware in the silence of the night and the abandoned bar. When she steps into the hall, she's more cautious when she calls out his name again, barely a whisper. Where is he?
After getting her pack, refusing to leave it behind, she slowly follows her way back until it leaves her standing in the main bar, unsure of what to do. Should she leave and try to find someone, or should she sit and wait for him?
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For a while, it's only Kaede. Kaede and the groans coming from beneath the bar. The pipes rattle back, the windows whisper. Ghosts: the whole place stinks of them.
The silence is interrupted by the sound of a steady walk. Clunk goes one heel, clack goes another. From somewhere else and Greed's suddenly coiled up in a door frame. Sans his vest, his sunglasses. His head is dipped low as his elbow nudges into a cornered crook. "Oi, oi, oi - " The Sin starts, his voice brought down a notch or two. "-weren't you supposed be sleeping? Jeez."
He feigns annoyance and forces a smile. The smell on him sticks; of dirty water, of mold and dirt. Greed runs a hand through the spikes of his hair and shakes them for good measure. "Eh, guess it can't be helped." His arm falls away and he slips from the door. But not before shutting it with the back of his heel.
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Oh yeah, she mad. She can't see herself, can't see the crimson eyes or white teeth. She's more delicate than him, but there is little doubt she had been ready to protect herself if it didn't turn out to be him.
FUCK THIS GOT SO LOST ...sorry for the delay!
"Oi, oi, oi - " Greed drones out as he shuffles across the space between. The cuffs of his boots knock hollow against the floorboards, making dust shiver up from an early grave. "-keep it down, would ya? You don't really want anyone coming in here and seeing you like that." From his hip, he extends an index out to her. Throwing it up and down to try to grab her attention. It's strange like this; seeing his face, his ability, crawling and forming on somebody else.
Finally, he reaches where she's planted against the wall and Greed splays his thighs open. When he sinks in, it's with a hand on her head, the tips of his own claws springing out when 'Shield meets 'Shield. He runs the smooth side of them across her skull, urging a spark. "Though it's not like anyone could really hurt you this way."
He bends forward, turning his skull into her space like a scavenger at a kill. "Calm down."
It's okay!!
Anger always tends to lead down a path of 'losing control of one's powers' for her, as the point is proven right here.
"Where were you?!" Scowling so very unhappily at him. Maybe it would have a scarier effect with crimson eyes and visible teeth if it wasn't the power's owner looking back at it.
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"You done?" For a moment, his whole face seems to drop and a calm stillness takes his eyes. His expression isn't annoyed, it isn't even upset. Just blank for a moment or two before he turns his head over his shoulder.
"No use hiding it, I guess," Greed's voice comes out like a haunted whisper. "-but there were some things I had to take care of. Not really stuff kids like you should be seeing."
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There's only one thing that goes through her mind with his words, looking him over before softly asking, "you didn't hurt someone, did you?" Her mind is actually thinking 'kill', but really she couldn't bring herself to say it. She knows Greed isn't a good guy, he isn't a hero, but right now, he's all that she's got. She knows, bad guy and all, he will protect her and make sure she's taken care of. Easier to stay with something she knows than taking a chance on a world that might do something terrible to her if they know she isn't just human.
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His face falls a bit. Waning between exasperation and something a bit more. There's no scratches on his hands, no damage to anything. But there's a distinct smell of wet; of something raw that's been laying around for quite some time now. Greed grunts, shifting his shoulder up as he moves to stand.
"Eh- guess there's no use hiding it." The Sin turns his head over his shoulder, looking back towards the door. "I think you're smart enough to figure it out."
The bullets, the disarray: it tells a story. Simple to read between the lines that when everything went to hell? There were a few caught in the crossfire. Greed's teeth set, his upper lip pulls. "A few of mine," he starts, almost too low. Almost growling, a bit feral at the tongue. "-never did get what was owed to me."
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She looks back to Greed with creased brows, trying to understand. A few of mine. He's called her that. She's felt it from him. Had something happened to other people he considered-
It comes to her all at once and she looks around sharply, then back to him. "Who? Why?" What had happened, here?!
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And it isn't something he entirely wants to dredge up either. But something is owed, an explanation at best. He can see it in her eyes - that needle-point precision that's entirely like a child to have. Adults usually know better, kids like the pry. The who(s), what(s), where(s), when(s); it's a nagging trait.
Greed raps his nail against the floorboards.
"The military," he starts, not without the usual smarmy expression. "-eventually they found out I was here. Usually it wouldn't have been a problem, but they had something I wasn't expecting."
Wrath. For a second, his shoulders stiffen and his lips pull back. "Wasn't exactly prepared for it."
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"Why? ...Why would they suddenly hurt you? Why did they have to hurt you and your people?" Still trying to understand, but realizing that maybe it's because of who-- what-- Greed is. He had warned her about being 'different' and the military, after all.
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He had just removed himself from the picture long-since prior.
"Remember what I told you? I don't work for anyone else, sweet heart." He bows his head forward, thighs spreading just a bit more. "Good ol'Daddy sir wasn't too happy when I told him the same answer." And the answer had been a firm no. "I'm sure things have changed since then. The world hasn't ended - more than likely they actually took the opportunity."
He extends his hand, shoving it to the top of her skull. "It was a long time ago, kid. No use worrying about it now."
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What a jerk of a dad! Her nose wrinkles at the mere idea. "But now you're free, right? No one even knows you're here. You can do what you want." She looks around, gestures a little. "Fix this place up, even, or go somewhere else and do it. Make something else your own."
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A hundred years of hiding; it had done him well. For a while, at least. Not that he had made it that hard, but those back in Central kept to their own. Chance had changed the circumstances; one mistake leading to a snowball effect. Greed reels away, forming into his back and spine as he slithers on the retreat. "But that's right - I wasn't born like you were."
Created, artificial. The Sin's mouth peels open, his teeth shine through. "Free enough. No one knows I'm here and you're right - " Whatever he wants. Oh, it's too good, too rich. Enough to make an almost inaudible pitch rumble in his gut. Sure, things have changed: he's changed.
But some habits are just a little harder to kick. "-there's still a whole world out there."
He fails to mention other things. Histories that still had some fixing, intel to paint the rest of the picture. There's gaps that are missing; details that are lost. It'll take some time, but thankfully?
Time's always been a commodity he had.
Greed presses his thumb into the back-dip of his hip. "Who says I'm not?" His head lulls to the side, his eyes flare open.
"The name is Greed - wouldn't be me if I just sat this out." His mouth presses together and his index hooks in the same space allotted between him and his. "The real question is - what do you plan to do?"
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"I have to find my family. This isn't my world, right? If I got put here, there has to be a way home. Zelien's always brought everyone together, and I don't know why this seems to be different, but my family could even be out there somewhere!"
But how she's supposed to do that? She has no idea. She doesn't have time like Greed does, and she's only a child. A child who has a power that could get her in deep trouble if anyone finds out.
holy shit this is so fucking late god damn
Even without the help of a borrowed 'Shield.
Greed's knees creak when he finally stands. A straightening of the spine and he's slumping over again. This time, though, the smile of his is more beckoning. Thriving with his insatiable need. "There's a whole world out there - doesn't seem right to just stay here, does it."
It doesn't mean that Greed won't come back to Dublith, but a lot has changed since his untimely demise. He turns from her, peering out where the small brisk of dawn shines through. A sneer paints onto his face and a quick scoff follows.
"And here I thought I was done with brats - fine." The homunculus throws his thumb over his shoulder. "Go grab some supplies from out back."
It's okay!
"Can we-- we don't even have money or anything, do we?" How would they be able to survive? Get food, get clothing... all she has is the stuff in her pack, but it isn't a lot!
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He doesn't need to say more than that. The curtains flutter and the shutters bang. The 'Nest is nothing but bones. A skeletal remain of what used to be; of what was once his. Now there's nothing more save dust and grime to keep the weathered bits company.
Greed walks away from her, moving around the bar with a swift stride. He disappears not a second later, ducking under to the tune of chiming glass and banging tin. "Over there," he starts. With his hand extending out, crooked index throwing itself to a small hallway. "-not much in there, but snag what you can. There's a box with a few centz still left in it."
Not much to go by, but enough to get them out of Dublith.
But the Sin's grin is as present as it is obvious, despite him being out of sight. He purrs on the other side of the wood:
"Money's never been a problem."
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She comes back out and gives him a look. "Whatever's been in this place before is pretty much gone, boss," spoken with a bit of a mocking tone, having no idea that title might be more than she intends.
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Not that train-hoping wasn't another option.
Greed knuckles the few bottles worth his time: a wine, a brandy. A type of clear liquid marked with some strange letters. And of course, a half-drained portion of scotch. Next to the bar, there's an open shoulder bag with faded markings: "AMESTRIS | CENTRAL COMMAND" is stamped in white on the olive-drab side.
He shoves his collection in, letting them ring and chime off one another. "Doesn't surprise me," Greed purrs out. What does is her choice in wording. There's no hiding the keen pleasure on his face.
Boss is a fitting title.
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So she reaches into her own bag and pulls out a shirt, gesturing for him to let her at the bag. She winds the shirt between the bottles so that there's enough padding to keep them from clinking against one another, to a degree.
She doesn't miss the grin on his lips from her words, either. She remember all too well the utter swelling of possessiveness she had felt when she had his power activated in her. How she had wanted everything, even him. To own it all. It's part of why she plans to not use it as much as possible, on top of the danger it could put her in.
"So, now what?"
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Still, there is a glimmer of appreciation. Greed places his hand on Kaede's skull for one last rub. As his fingers leave, the night life outside dwindles. Like devils creeping back so that the sun couldn't catch them. It's replaced by the soft opening of windows, the groaning of store fronts yawning to the early morning. The Sin places his hand to the front door and forces it ajar.
"Now?" Greed taps his foot, almost giddily excited at the prospect. And he is, to some degree. His world, his turf - but it's new.
And it's all his. "-why don't we see just what they've got for us, huh?" The homunculus flashes a grin over his shoulder. Glinting white as the gold-orange rays peek through the wood-slits like curious children about to unwrap a secret box.
"-There's a whole world out there, Kaede. C'mon."
And with a kick, he throws the hatch door and disappears below.
➥ OPEN | welcome to the late 1700s
Greed hardly ever got the chance to see it.
But he had plans - big plans.
Covetous fingers snatched an apple as he passed by. A flick of a coin behind him shut any protest that would have followed and he bent and turned. Chasing the flurry of movement with one of his own. To anyone who didn't know, he looked the part of a staggering drunk trying to find his way home. Or one of those others. That had long since lost their mind to the trails and tribulations of the day.
Neither were true.
Greed snapped at the curved side of an apple. Sliced his teeth right in and pulled. He didn't need it, not really. Not like the people around him needed it and it was more a casual luxury at best. His coat tails whipped behind him - hard leather, worn, and he sunk his head forward to peel away from the thick tangle of fur at his collar.
He had been stationed in Reole for about a week now and everything had gone to schedule. The whispers in the streets, the hushed words at the edge of ears that were just itching to pull the trigger. To hold up knives and cry, "Enough!" That hadn't been his doing, though. She had handled that all on her own.
But the bloodshed was becoming boring. The body-toll turning to nothing more than a waste. And the Avaricious felt himself gnawing at the bit more and more each day.
There was a train. One primed and ready to head south. That was his ticket and they'd never see it coming. In all of the commotion, in the fires that would follow - he would be long gone and by then, it'd be far too late for any of them to figure it out.
A grin slid up his face and Greed tossed the apple into the air. Caught it with a quick-snatch of the wrist. He passed by a beggar and dropped the rest into a tin-can.
"Thank you, kind sir. For your charity," he heard in his passing.
Greed tossed his hand over his head without a second glance. His private smile deadly and unseen. "It's not charity friend - I'm just not that good of a guy."
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Not when she was having such a damn good time of herself.
Normally, she wouldn’t have had the confidence to indulge such attire, but that was before, when her self confidence in that arena left much to be desired. Now, her confidence was no longer an issue. Greed had personally seen to that with surprising patience. Greed was also the reason she was slipping on that particular dress and boots, and despite the fact that she wore them entirely for his benefit, to indulge his tastes, Velma felt a flushed thrill roll through her. He had the tendency to bring out this sexier side of her more and more as of late, but she never even thought to complain.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and she stepped out, arm holding the front of the dress in place as she turned around. The zipper was open, exposing the bare skin of her back in a coy sort of triangle, pointing south toward the curve of her rear. With a sultry look she had long since perfected on him, Velma glanced over her shoulder to him, eyes slightly lidded to play into the part.
“Can you help with my zipper?” The question was soft, almost innocent sounding at how she asked it. Who knew she could still do innocent after all this time?
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Women weren't in low-demand and he had plenty to call. But those who stuck around where always his favorite and while Greed was known for his less-than-favorable bed-side manners, there were a few rules. His hand had never been raised to a women and never would be, for starters. And secondly, he always did remember a face, even if the name wasn't entirely clear.
Velma, though - she was different. Like those he had taken under his wing; familiar, a friendly face. When she had asked for him, he came. Without questions or much conversation. Just there suddenly, making himself quite at home.
So when the door opened, Greed was half-saddled into the crook of the adjacent-room frame. Wrist nudged to wood and his hip was checked into a sharp corner. He turned his head over his shoulder when the orange-hum from the bathroom made a sharp edge of light flicker through the dark. For a moment, there was a brief tick of surprise; making his eyebrows raise and his lips fall around a half-burnt cigarette.
But that's all it was: brief.
His jaws spread. Fanning his unsavory dentistry around the butt-end of his smoke as he pried it out of his jaws. It found a home between his thick knuckles, still puffing out gray-blue plumes as he jolted off his perch. To say the sight was a surprise was dull at best. The smoothness of her skin against the inky-black tide of her dress made his eyes flick. Hooded with a need that practically invaded every action he made. The Sin pressed the cigarette against the pad of his finger and ash spat back. Until a quick-flash of red mended the wound and he slipped the extinguished cigarette into his back pocket.
"Oh-?" Greed clacked forward and his body swayed. Sauntered as he took up a purposely-slow stride. The glow from the bathroom touched his sunglasses, making them flicker in the dark. Like a candle on the low-burn and he slipped the tip of his nail into the hook of the zipper. "What's the occasion, lovely?" He asked, as he coiled around her back. Practically pressing up against her and his other hand framed out her side, her hip. Followed her curves without touching; keeping his distance, but still communicating with a silent kind of gesture.
"You usually don't do this sort of thing - it's new for you." Greed pulled the zipper up slowly. Listened as metal clinked together and his nose brushed the nape of her neck. She smelled different than before; soap instead of laboratory chemicals. A perfume instead of the dusty remnants of old library books.
Something had changed. He just wasn't sure if he was to blame or if it was something else entirely. "So what's the occasion? We going somewhere I should know about?"
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His need reflected back to him in the curve of her hips and quickening of her breath. The desire curled in her eyes, behind a sort of curiosity and sharpness that took over when she was observing the details of a situation, often times memorizing them with a practiced ease.
The intentionally languid pace simply gave her more time to watch and wait, no doubt his end goal. Not that she would complain, her gaze marauding over the now familiar form, lean with muscle and long with height. He towered over her, projecting a strength and cockiness that she knew was justified in most areas.
One arm holding the front of her dress in place, the other reached back and up to carefully tug off his sunglasses. His eyes, often predatory in nature, fascinated her with their intensity, and burned her with heat when she became the focus of those eyes. From the inside out the heat continued to build.
"No occasion," she finally breathed, voice low and riddled with the sultry edge of seduction. Her back arched as he tugged the zipper skyward, the tip of his nail tickling a trail along the line of her spine the entire way.
Wanting nothing more than to lean back against him, Velma fought the urge and remained relatively still. As difficult as it was to keep from giving into his touch, the results of the slow burn teases increased the intensity of the pleasure during their time together, and at the end. Each and every one of them.
Absently, she tilted her head ever so slightly to allow him better access, encouraging him wordlessly as they had a polite discussion over the veritable powder keg of lust forming between them. "You bought yourself a gift," she explained, letting him know she used his card to purchase such an outfit. "I thought it'd be your style."
His question brought a little smile to her lips that danced through her eyes. Going somewhere. Velma had a feeling that they wouldn't have made it out of the apartment even if she had set up plans. "Do you want to go somewhere?"
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"Did I now," Greed stopped mid-way up her back with the zipper. Touching his knuckle to her spine as a tense shrill sounded in the air. Behind her, the hand at her side licked black and the Sin urged his 'Shield up with an elongated-pause. Let it slither as it traced jagged lines across his skin. "-didn't realize. Must have slipped my mind."
Talons slipped down. Trailing to where the dress ended and the back of her thigh began. He pressed them against the flesh, slowly dragging them up to mark small lines across her skin. Not enough to scratch, but to tease. To remind her just what sort of monsters were really lurking in the dark.
"Not really." The dress hitched up a bit. Climbing as he explored with those chilled-carbon claws. Tapping to map out her thigh blindly; he was too busy watching her. Chasing each reflection as she moved. When her breathed hitched just a bit and her pulse ran hard enough for him to catch.
Greed rolled his foot up against her own. Shoving the heel of his boot down to slowly pivot the rest to follow. This close, he could feel it - every little twitch of movement that beckoned him to follow. And follow he did. Tilting his head in as her necked swayed away and his breath was warm against her skin. Perhaps a little too warm.
A telling sign of his own making.
"Not unless you've got other plans. Wouldn't want to keep a gal from getting what she wants, after all." The Sin coiled his claws inward, prodding just at the base of her thigh with the edge of a joint. "Though that wouldn't exactly be very nice of you would it?"
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"Mhmm," she agreed, body shuddering against the first, simple contact of skin against skin. The first of many, she anticipated with the ghost of a self-satisfied smirk.
The sight of his talons moving southward, caused a shiver of anticipation. A gasp followed, blooming into a soft moan barely escaping her parted lips, her eyes fluttering closed so she can focus on what he was doing to her. Unless he wanted her to watch him. A gentle reminder would suffice if that were the case.
Her ass followed the upward motion of his claws, tilting up as if to escape to tortuously delicious chills. The hitching fabric reveals bare skin and naught else, another foresight of Velma's as she had changed. Further exploration would reveal just how excited she felt, not that he couldn't already observe that.
The more he teased, the more she squirmed beneath him, a hand reaching out to blindly grasp for some sort of hand hold to support her in case her legs gave out as they were threatening. Her breath sometimes came in irregular pulls that she tried to hold even, but he knew all her buttons, even if he was only blindly pushing them at the moment.
A soft variety of pleasurable noises continued to escape her despite her best efforts, urging him closer. Urging him further. The heat of his breath against the sensitive nook of her neck almost shattered all sense of reasonable restraint, but practice had stiffened her ability to tolerate more of his torments. Velma had always been an excellent student, after all.
She swallowed at his words and the breath that followed, familiar and rough from the recent smoke, an acquired taste that she had strangely grown to crave. Even if she did dislike his penchant for the habit.
The prod of his finger caused her knees to weaken as she cried out with a gasp. There's no pain in her voice, simply surprise that shifted to join the tangible accumulation of desire within the room. He was a monster, and she couldn't help but adore him for it.
Words. He wanted her to form words into sentences after one hand of his went on leisure tour of her thigh? Cruel indeed. Instead, she gave in and pressed herself back against him in a solid movement, groaning through gritted teeth. "Since when do you play nice, my Avarice?"
Not exactly a direct answer, but close enough.
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"Ha -! I never do - fair, sure. But nice? I'm just not that kind of guy. I'm selfish, remember?" He slid a talon between her thighs, hooking it at the band of her underwear playfully. "You should know me a bit better than that."
She knew. And the pet name was just a cute little insult proving their history. Nothing he took offense at; it was hard to do so anyway.
She squirmed and he chased her. Rocking to the left when she tried to find her balance; shifting to the right when he prodded her in the direction. Greed opened his jaws, humming against her skin. Pricking the edges of his teeth as he rolled his hips against her backside before he stilled there.
"But this - seems I owe you, don't I?" The Sin moved his head to whisper against the shell of her ear. As his other hand, the one not preoccupied with the cotton-lining of her underwear, smoothed down the front of her thigh. Rutting fabric, making it wave and fish-tail between his fingers. "After all, I've always counted myself as fair."
There was a snap. As the toyed-band gave way to the acute hook of his talon. Cotton splintered and the threads twisted; frayed as he pulled the would-be weapon through. "You're just full of surprises though." The lines on his chest were hot to the touch; his own rotten core telling him where to go, what to do.
And what to rightfully take.
But while he was forceful in other aspects, Greed was gentle here. While he let his claws skip across the trail of her skin, mapping out the direction to where the fabric clung to the other side of her hip. It didn't last; sliced just as quick and he caught the edge between the points of his nails.
"Why don't you tell me everything you want." He was moving away. As both knees knocked out in opposite directions to make him fall against her back. His mouth whispered at her spine, trailing as he spoke. Down, down, down - until he had the offending shreds of a garment in his teeth. Pulling it free with a chase nip at the back of her thigh.
It was discarded a moment later. Falling away when he clicked his fingers together and a hand wrapped around her hip. Anchoring him to her, lifting him back to the comfort of her curves. But not before he gave a little snap at her rear - a vicious sort of gesture, but it was only that - a gesture to keep her guessing. To question where he would be next as the fabric of her dress was released, letting it fall back to a wafting-rest.
"And I'll be sure to return the favor."
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Still, she nodded, her answer encompassing several of his questions as she leaned her head to rest back against his chest, to let his body guide hers in a way. It also kept her standing as he threatened the skin of her neck with his unruly dentition, a low groan escaping her at both that and the growing heat pressing behind her.
Closing her eyes, Velma lost herself in the motion of his hands and the paths created by his talons, humming softly between squirming sighs of approval. Shivers from the various ministrations continued to roll through her. Some were minor, while others near jerked her eyes open with a gasp.
Full of surprises. Maybe, or just a quick study able to predict how something like this outfit would affect him, her avarice. It's the same surprise that oft led her to not wearing her best undergarments around him since they tended to end up on the floor in shredded pieces more often than not.
Her hips twisted with the teasing path of his nails as they went about destroying this pair. It's not particularly knee-buckling if only because she expected it and had braced herself accordingly. However, his movement southward robbed her of her veritable wall to lean against, and she nearly toppled in his hands with the playful nip to her rear curves.
The request might have sent some weakness to her knees as well. Even though it's something she expected him to ask, Velma never became accustomed to verbally expressing exactly which dirty deeds she desired him to perform on her. Usually it boiled down to whichever would make her come the most and the hardest, but with him that didn't exactly narrow down the list much.
His rougher snap brought he to heel, so to speak, and she yelped softly in surprise, shivers raising gooseflesh over the larger than normal expanse of bare skin.
"I want to feel it tomorrow." She admitted ruefully, eyes closed and blush rolling between the freckles that dotted her fair skin. "For each step to be a reminder of how you hit that sweet spot so masterfully..." Velma swallowed, shaking slightly at the thought. "And so... Frequently."
Mimicking his style of speech had been an interesting trick she had picked up during their time together, as it tended to have quite the positive effect on events.
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She was just as needy as he was, after all.
The smile on his face was wide. Full of teeth, full of sharp points that glinted back in the glass when he turned. Greed touched his nose to the side of Velma's jaw and his too-black claws framed the other side of her head. "Hard to say no to something like that," he spoke, his usual baritone a purred-out hiss. A gasket left open, leaving a noxious poison in its wake. The two of them couldn't have been more different from the start, but somehow he had exposed her. Exchanging his need, his greed to her again and again. A little more each time.
Not that he was complaining.
He spun around her, mimicking the elongated crawl of a viper. Heels clacking as he swiped and winded her side. Greed placed the tip of a nail against the under part of her chin, keeping it posed there like an anchor to his movements. One false move could mean disaster, but he was far too careful for that. Jerking with a tightening of his torso, a dip of his shoulder. Until he was trading places, spinning around to meet her face to face.
"Stay still, hmn? Don't want to end up hurting you accidentally." Greed pulled his claws away before running his palms across the tops of his thighs. He dropped then. Falling onto the balls of his feet so that his knees extended across the outside-edges of her calves. A nose was pressed into the side of her leg and Greed slowly nipped up. Climbing with the chase promise of his teeth and his hands followed. Pushing ahead to pull her dress aside.
Velma's hip was easy to swallow in his mouth. Snapped at and Greed gently held the bone between his teeth. As one hand disappeared under the black caress of her dress. He dropped the 'Shield once he was close enough, coiling a finger or two to rough-smooth knuckles. A prod had him where he wanted to be and he started slow; moving counterclockwise against her sex.
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It's easy to let her attention slip down to his hips, to chew lazily at her bottom lip while her imagination and previous experiences flooded her mind. When his nail touched beneath her chin she froze, falling dead still, gaze snapping up to meet his so she can judge his mood. Not that he'd ever hurt her, but the danger it insinuated always brought her to a heightened sense of awareness. Every touch and movement amplified from adrenaline.
She could feel the throb of her heat between her legs even before he told her to stay still, a suggestion she never took lightly. Her one hand moved to brace herself against something solid and near, while the other smoothed through his hair in a gesture of affection. At least, that was the plan.
His nips cause her fingers to tighten in his locks, a low hiss forcing it's way out past her lips sharply, followed by a slow, shuddering inhale to keep herself from moving. It's a task that's easier said than done, especially when she tended to rock her hips against whatever gave her pleasure below the belt. But he's done this to her before, made her wait and endure his slow teases while some part of her balanced on the thin blade between pleasure and too much pain.
The reaction comes as a low, barely audible groan, legs shaking imperceptibly as she tried not to twitch or shift her weight. Standing like this was a difficult position in which to remain still under normal circumstances, but even more so when someone's teasing over a very receptive patch of lady business. "Mn," came the soft whine as her hand's grip tightened ever so slightly, "I don't think I can stay entirely still for much longer."
And patience in this arena wasn't exactly one of Velma's virtues.
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He pressed his forehead in first as a bit of a warning. Caressing down her stomach while the tips of his fingered continued their motion. Pad to knuckle and back again. Greed snapped his jaw and the slight pain at the spikes of his hair only fueled him. Her want, her need. It was better this way; without having to speak or order. Just silent tugs to tell him what was wanted and what specially wasn't.
He hitched a finger inside of her. One knuckle in, just slightly. He didn't need to rush things; not with her. Not with anyone else. Greed had time and plenty of it - enough that two-hundred years hadn't even dwindled that constant throb deep below in his own pit. Time was a commodity he had in spades and as he tested her with a deeper prod, his lips replaced the absence at her clit.
"Show me everything you want," Greed hummed and his knees hit the floor. She had done him a favor and he always counted himself a fair sort. Crooked maybe, but honest. "-whatever you need, lovely." His tongue came first; tracing from the base of her then up and up and up. Until lips found her sex and Greed brought them inward. A means of cushioning the sharps of his teeth while he sucked and rolled. Picking up the rhythm his fingers had been plucking at just a moment ago.
All the while, he pressed a little more into her. A little deeper. Finding the same pace and matching it.
➥ CORVO
[The sea licked up the shoreline. Rolling softly across the edge, caressing it with fingers foamed in white as it trailed back out again. The tide was starting to drain; with the moon overhead as its signal and the waves slowly rocked away. Leaving behind trails to where the water had been, soaking the sand black in the wee-hours of morning.]
[Bottles rolled across the edge, making the sand shift where it still stayed dry. Greed often found himself at the shoreline. After a few deals down at the docks; trading intel and whatever-else came off the murky-bows of the ships lined there. Some knew his name, knew his face. Knew that if they were wise, the business was good. Others were naive to the fact and the charm was easy to put on. With a flip of the hand and a devil's smile: "Do we have a deal?".]
[But business was over, which left the Sin in question to walk out the remaining hours. He had already his fill, though even that was an impossibility. The fur-lining of his long-leather coat smelled of it - of women, of men. Of smoke and liquor and everything else that was damned by law and creed.]
[Not that he followed those rules, anyway.]
[Greed picked at the threads of his jacket. The sleeves had been ripped off, a novice effort that left strands behind. He turned his head, dipped himself low as he followed the tide-line with each roll of his ankle. Like this, he looked the part of a shadow. A ghoulish sort of creature; with a Cheshire's grin to rival the moon hanging above as he pocketed his hands and fingered the gold and coin that bounced back.]
[He saw it first; the outline of something - someone - pooled out in the dark. A hand stretched to the beckoning land and the rest of the body left for the tide to rock it. He made a noise in his throat, pulling his lip back just so.] What a waste. [The Sin came close, shuffling through the bleach-white sand as he rounded the body.]
[With his knees splayed out, the Sin crouched down and stretched out his hand. His nails touched gnarled hair, winding it around as sea-salt dripped across his palm.]
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There was not one part of his body that did not hurt. The poison had stripped him of hours, of himself, lost in a haze of near death. Lost to the void, that spilled forth in the place between the two. Where death almost took him, he'd fallen into the hole in the world. For all that they had dumped his body on a raft in the ocean, they really should have known better.
He was alive not because he wanted to be, but because he must. Life beyond all reasonable expectation of such.
And maybe it's his own strength, maybe it was the spirit that kept him alive in those hours before he washed up on shore. Hard to tell, hard to draw the line between. He expected little, only that death would be a true mercy to the agony he felt. His body as scarred as his mind.
But he had given none, and thus expected no quarter. Not when he felt fingers in his hair and life -- came lancing back through his body like a blade between the ribs. He gasped in air, only to regret it immediately. Lungs hardly filled with air, and his body sought to rid him of all of it. He shuddered, coughing harshly, spasming with the effort of his stomach emptying itself. Sea water, blood, and the sweet sickly stink of poison. Too exhausted to even lift his head from the ground.
Only but for a moment, just because there was someone near, it did not mean kindness, he'd learned that lesson. He'd never bitten the hand that fed him, but it had never stopped him from being struck by it. So he tried, to push himself up, to move away, but he got no further than to push himself up onto his arm, before that gave out on him again. After all this, not the strength to fight. ( He expected death, because death was what he deserved ). ]
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[Only when Corvo was done, did he speak out. Hand flipped casually as it swung on the crook of his elbow.] You still with me, friend? [Greed bent down, bringing his face in for closer inspection. The smells on the guy were telling; the violent up heaving more so. But life sometimes had a funny way of turning the tides and Greed whistled through his teeth.] Could have sworn you were dead. Glad to see that isn't the case.
[Behind him, the long tails of his coat dragged in the sand. Brown-tan leather that was beaten and worn with age. It fit the time period, but only slightly. Greed shoved it aside, pushing the heavy weight up and over his hip as he pressed a hand to the man's shoulder.] For a human I gotta say - I'm impressed.
[But he wasn't about to take no for an answer, so he didn't even as. A shove of an arm as him between Corvo's back and his shoulder and Greed sunk his nails into the fabric of a jacket. It was soaked to the bone, starting to chill even with the comfortable breeze coming off the water.] You're lucky. Most would have left you out here to rot.
[The tone of his was snide; charming, but dangerous. A tempter with a baritone purr and Greed shifted his heel. Shoved it a bit deeper into the sand to find an anchor.] Don't bother talking - wouldn't do you any good anyway. You don't exactly heal like I do.
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He'd smile at the compliment, if not the fact that the words were echoed from far off. Like he was stuck some deep place under water, the voice above him was a distant memory by the time his words muddled out what he was saying. The sea water on his tongue, thick like blood, and it made it impossible to speak.
But his hand rose as he was rolled and tugged. Live, he must live, for if he did not, who would?
So the hand grasped past any true ability to do to. Sand and dirt muck as he grabbed Greed's jacket, tugging him close. A support, the only one he had, and that was a truth and reflection of his life that was more unfortunate. ]
They took her. They took her. [ He fumbled, trying to pull himself up, but it was impossible to do so. His hands slipping in their hold, forced to lean and no matter his pride, it seemed all he was capable of. Groaning once more as the pain wracked him again for even that much.
Let him die, let him die. But not yet ]
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[So when Corvo grabbed hold of his collar, Greed leaned in closer. Those jaws of his near an ear and the stink was worse up close. The pale underbelly of death and it smelled sour. Like milk left out in the hot-summer sun. But the Sin made no protest nor did he turn away. Instead, he hunched his shoulders up and pulled the other onto his feet. As it were nothing; as if the added weight hadn't bothered him in the slightest.]
They usually do, friend. That's what happens when you end up on the wrong side of a deal. [Whispering, his voice was a hiss. A pipeline of acrid smoke and liquor. The sand beneath them shifted as Greed moved and positioned the other.] Tsk - seems we're gunna have to do this the hard way.
[The hard way entailed a little foot-work on his part. Keeping Corvo steady as he shoved himself underneath the other. Crouching a bit until he felt sea-soaked clothes at his back; around his neck and through his hair. A hand trailed behind him, shoving the man's thighs apart none-too-gently.] C'mon - don't tell me you're done yet.
[A jump had Greed pulling the other onto his back. Akin to someone lifting a sack over their shoulder and he twined the man's arms around his throat. Prying fingers under his thighs and he coaxed them over the juts of his hips.]
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( there was a noise, of almost in protest that died in the back of his throat. turn him back into the sea, let the waves devour him, let him be free, let him be rocked to sleep -- )
He looked through his hair, the blood and spit from his lips catching and trailing in it. Sea damp, they would smell of salt, and the copper would just match.
It took some effort, minutes as he hung and the world tilted, to grasp the back of the one who dragged him back into the world of the living, fingers weakly taking purchase on it. More sign of life than he'd displayed so far.
Kill him, but not yet. Not yet, he'd fight, he had breath, and hands, thoughts to call his own. ]
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Not that much of a talker, are you.
[Clunk and his heel hits the surface of the dock. A few strides past the usual(s) have them heading back to town. It's lit in hell-fire as torches roar up the length of wood. A perfect time for him and his; when the shadows breath more hiding spaces and the Sin easily sinks into them. Disappearing from casual side looks that don't dare utter a word.]
[Good for them. It'd be a real disappoint to have to stop now and answer the daunting questions that would probably follow.]
[A horse and cart passes by and Greed stops to let them go. Before shoving himself down a crooked alleyway made up of uneven cobblestone. The stretch is dimmer as they pass through. With a few passersby merely nodding; as if they know him, know the look. Seen it time and time again and it's just the usual business at hand.]
[There's a wooden door down the winding street and Greed slams his elbow into it. While he shifts the weight on his back and the lock pops. Cracks wide open to let him in.]
OOC | sorry about the tense shift hun!
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He shakes his head in response, not even bothering to realize that his saviour could not see him to know his reply. Half holding his head up, he tries to make sense of where he was. Hair swaying and dripping water and sand as they made it further into the city. Smells and sounds foreign and nightmarish trickle that filtered through. No longer the agony he was before, but the pain would not go from him.
When the silence comes again, the street muted to far off again, that was when he tugged, to be let down, even if it was just to be dropped onto the floor. ]
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[It hasn't been the first time he's taken what's so readily available.]
[Greed can feel the nudge at his collar. A silent plea to be let go. He makes a noise in his throat that seems to rumble from deep in his gut.] So you're not dead.
[The Sin casually kicks a chair out. Yanking it with the crooked tip of his boot to send it spinning away from a well-used desk. There's a ink bottle there; worn dry from disuse. Any of the paperwork left behind has long since been stained. By liquor, but something else.]
[Though it doesn't really matter anymore.]
[Greed sets his company down with a rather unceremonious heave of the shoulders. Letting Corvo sprawl out across the chair as he disappears again. It's only a little to the left; circling around the desk to pick through a dresser or two. From somewhere unseen, there's a rattling. Glass shaking against glass and Greed clicks his tongue.]
Gunna guess you're not about to hold a useful conversation - [The homunculus has a voice that's slick. Oily, like the very substance he yanked his would-be companion out of. It's slippery, but old. As if it doesn't match whatever age he's trying to pass as.] - sorry. Wish I had something better.
[He comes back with a small bottle clutched in his hand. It's stopped with a simple cork, of which Greed rips and tears out with his teeth. A spit to the floor leaves only a remnant behind. Gouged with too-deep incision.]
Gunna want to hold onto something. [But he doesn't even ask. Before he's got a fist-full of Corvo's hair and Greed wrenches his head back. The top of the bottle is quickly shoved under his nose.]
[It's a quick remedy. One he's seen dozens of times. And while he doesn't know what sal volatile really means, he figures it's better than nothing.]
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( and if, he were more capable of speaking, he would tell him, tell him about the day the stars would be devoured, that there was a hole in the world and it was going to consume, and he was going to fall and fall and fall).
But it was a little easier to not slip and stumble into it when he was the only person not holding himself off that edge. The chair too, he clung to the edges of it when it seemed to rock like the sea itself.
His head hung forward, as withered as any old tree, his skin ashen and his hair a mess stuck together. He was bent and broken, and there was no resistance there. There were children's dolls that probably put up more of a fight. It's a empty daze as he slips almost to unconsciousness again.
Then there is a smell and it's worse than death, smells like piss and blood and rotting things and he gags again. Wrenching against the grip in his hair, spluttering as painful new air came into his lungs. Shoving and pulling at whoever shoved whatever that foul smell was away from him.
His eyes opened, bleary and so utterly betrayed by the light he'd stopped calling friend some time ago. ] 'M awake.
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[Greed swipes his hand on his thigh, cleaning off the grease and grime from Corvo's hair. It's not a fix, not by a long shot. But it's a quick way to make sure he's not dealing with a corpse in the next hour or so. The Sin slips his foot next to the leg of the chair, catching it before it decides to dip and fall with the reckless misuse.] But you don't really heal like I do. [His thumb touches the side of Corvo's face, pushing the sea's grit away. It sounds rough in his ears and feels rougher still. Whoever the guy is, he's certainly been through a bit of hell.]
Must have pissed somebody off for them to go do that - [And there's the would-be devil, charming him right back. Greed eases away and catches a loop at the front of his own slacks. It's still nightfall and there's plenty to do.]
[But for now, it can wait.] What's your name? [He asks. Without question, without hesitation. It's the first test of a long string of them - if the guy can't answer, the next best option is to dump him where some sort of 'Doc can take a better look.]
[Though Greed already has a little bit of an investment, even if all the roads aren't too clear yet. He'd rather not take that fork if he doesn't have to.]
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I killed and -- [ his head turned with the hold, the could taste the sea on his lips. More of it in his lungs, the same bile you'd find in a ships hull. Rancid and old and not fit for consumption. ] -- never. Never went down easy, was supposed to. I was supposed to die first.
[ death babble, standing on the edge of the chasm and he shook his head like a rabid dog as he clung to edge of reality.
It takes time, it always does. Him, here, his name, who and what and not the void. Not the black eyes in the dark. Real, real as the river, as the poison, a the dead screaming his name. ] Corvo. [ he tried to swallow down the sea in his mouth. ]
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[And why him and his were ordered to pull the strings.]
[It's also why Greed left, but that's not important. Not now, anyway. He snatches a bottle of brandy and his knuckles frame the cork ten and two.] Corvo, huh? [Pop it goes and the outer shell is flaky, the glass less than perfect. The Sin places the lip to his teeth and drags out a swig. It's longer than most, heartier than others. As if there's a thirst he just can't quench and only when he comes up for air, does he let out a loud, dramatic groan.]
Guess someone else had other intentions. [The liquor ploops and plops as he lets it swing at his side. Greed's slow when he moves. Sauntering forward, his thumb traces his lip to clean the residue over. The flavor is rich berry, dark with aged mahogany: a good blend despite the outer shell.]
[Though one really couldn't judge based on looks alone.]
[There's a squealing-skip as a box is kicked over. It flows across the dust, running a track that knocks a few books out of its path. The Sin takes it not a second later; spreading his legs out to settle down on top. The brandy in tow makes room between his legs and Greed leers forward. It's now that he can really see those haggard eyes, the lines on Corvo's face.]
[Greed's smile turns feral, dangerous. That want, need, desire - it's all there. Without hidden masks, without the need to lie. The truth of it just as naked and ugly.]
[He skates a nail down the edge of the bottle.] I have to give it to you - for a human, you're built pretty tough. [A stillness takes him as he sizes Corvo up. The guy could turn tail right then and there, but Greed doubts it.]
First thing's first - [The jug tips back, butt-end going to Corvo. It's a passing along, a silent gesture of mild camaraderie.] - then you can tell me your story.
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It's with the same eyes of a crow he stares at the liquior as it moves about in its bottle. He likes to drink more now, than he did before. But he likes food in the way only the half starved can appreciate, and it shows. He's starved in his soul and it's left him wanting.
At least before he looks up to the same hungry eyes, and he doesn't flinch from it. Only sucks in a breath and waits for whatever it is to come. ] Not all human. [ it's the simplest explantion, because he knows he's talking to one who seems to not be completely mortal either.
He isn't going to run, because he has no where to run to.
It's not the first time, he knows with a sardonic twist of his lips, that he's seen the dark and chosen to step into it instead. With ragged breath and the desperation that comes when you truly know you have nothing left in this world.
But he takes the drink, and swallows down a moutful like it was water. It clears his mouth and he shudders for how it burns. Better tasting than he'd had for months. ] Not much to tell, and it's all blood. [ it started with it, and he was sure it was going to end with it as well. ]
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[Like the last handshake of the devil, Greed's fingers retreat. Giving a lick to the glass and stealing from it its shimmer. He lowers himself a bit more, spreads his thighs just a tad wider. Both elbows sag across his knees and he pecks into the small space between them.]
[Blood isn't a factor to make him uneasy. He's seen his share, done a few himself: murders. Killings. Mass genocide to tip the scale to a day far set in the future. But it was a future he wasn't a part of anymore. Buried and burned like the ashy flavor still lingering on his tongue.] Ah - [The homunculus raises his head, perked up ever so slightly.] - right. That's not how it really works, is it.
[He shuffles his boot over, walking it by the heel as he whirls about for inspection. There's a silver hook on the floor - probably used to seal an item or to break it wide open. Greed grabs it, shaking dust off as he goes.]
[He hands it over to Corvo.] Show me.
[An index goes to his throat, running down the dips. Touching and grazing the side of his neck.] You won't hurt me, friend.
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He has no grace, when he stands before. But as he reached for that hook from him, he is purpose. The glass is set down after it's drained down. One movement blending into another as he stepped forward to take it. ] I thought not, Shade. [ his tongue presses on the curve of his lips, parched dry by the salty air of the river. Cracked open and if he ever were to smile, they would split open and such a bloody grin he would have.
But he does not, and he is dry on words he does not feel a need to waste. Shade, maybe, just more poison talking. These dreams on the edge of death, nothing in them was right. Things he knew and did not know. Maybe this was real, maybe this wasn't, but he was every inch a man past caring. ]
There was an Empress. [ Full beautiful, and a void in her eyes, now in her voice and he says nothing. ] They sold her life and gutted her like a common woman, and she begged me. [ He is here, talking, and he is not, he is far off. Seeing things past, that cannot change. ] And since that day I wanted -- I wanted -- [ he does not say he loved her, that he had lost everything. There isn't a need, it shows and he cannot help it.
He steps forward, and Greed, this shade in front of him, is replaced. He dreams of blood, of vengeance until he made himself sick with it. A lovesick sheen on his skin and he took Greed's throat in his in a movement across the room that is too fast. The hook, glinting and silver and so beautiful with it was used, is held a loft, like it might cut a throat. The one before him and he leans in close, a sneer of pain on his lips, head tilting, half damp, mattered hair in his eyes, but it hides nothing. ] -- I dream'd every night of gutting them open, like they had her. [ blunt tipped nails sink in and he pants like he might want for the killing now, straining on the exhaustion of wanting it so much. ] And when I did, they who freed me, found I had no use anymore, and gave me poison in the way of thanks for what I had done.
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[But then, Corvo's talking. Similar to a drunk rambling on about an apocalypse he knows is coming. Everyone dismisses him: "Don't listen to him." "Crazy old fuck." Greed's heard the song played over and over and the truth of it all is that it's correct. The drunk knows, sees behind the curtains and points out the illusion. Everyone else is blind.]
[Still, this goes over his head and Greed's jaw goes slack.] Ah-? [Both eyebrows wrinkle his forehead as they climb. Not a word Corvo has to say makes sense. Least, not to Greed. A story that isn't his and never would be. There's no time to react, though. There's fingers around his throat, the sound of his heels dragging like a corpse that's about to be dropped. Greed's head smacks into the opposite wall, but he leaves his throat exposed.]
[And all the while, that smile never leaves. No, it grows in sharpness and a choked laugh hisses from his jaw like a gas-line broke.] - everyone wants something they can't have. Humans always think greed is for money, but that's not all.
[The blade doesn't come, the electric shock never bites. Instead, it's his companion's fingers in his skin, his exaggerated pants in his ear. The homunculus reaches out his hand, touching the wrist that's so close to ripping his throat apart.] What's good, what's taboo - to me, it's all good - [Greed purrs, almost too close that anyone could think it an intimate situation. He presses his forehead to Corvo's, forcing pale-tan skin against the other's sea-soaked brow.]
And it seems to me, you're owed. Aren't you.
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[In order to keep alive and stay alive, he knew he needed someone above himself. Someone who could take care of anything that came his way. Let's be real, there weren't a whole lot of people who Grit knew were above him in the rankings. This was a place that a human should not be and in order to, you know, not die, he had to find a way to actually be here.
Enter a seedy ass bar that he heard took in misfits. Okay so a human wasn't really a misfit, but it had to be worth something, right? At least he was trying to live.
The place was empty, and all that he could see was one man with slicked hair and a vest that made him look way too creepy for his own good. He walked right over and placed his hand on the table.]
Howdy. Are you hirin' for anything?
[Might as well make himself useful before he dropped the 'oh yeah please house me']
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[And, as always, he was there to greet them.]
[Greed pitched a cloth into a deep glass, rubbing at it absently. He had been talking to someone else when a voice came through like a gunshot. Aiming for an intended target and his attentions were found easily. "You hirin' for anything?" The Sin paused, swiping a cat-calling grin right up his face.]
That depends - [A heavy dip of the eyebrow fell under his shades and Greed placed the mug onto the bar with a heavy thud. He nodded off to someone around back; a shorter man with a spiked-back haircut to match his own.] - but that isn't how it usually works, Chief.
[It was a silent exchange. Between himself and the other; two fingers held high, a beckoning motion forward. And they switched places - his partner taking the head and Greed slipped behind his bar. Trailing the length before slinking out the small-mouthed opening.]
Why don't we do this a little more privately. After all, there's a few things you should probably know. [Between the drafty curtains and the numerously-crooked hallways, there were eyes. Flicking as the would-be boss gave the signal. With a shrug of his shoulders and a toss of the hand, making his fingers spiral out one by one.]
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[He let's out a chuckle. Tipping his hat to the man as he started to follow. Ignoring any of the looks he may have been getting from anyone else for whatever reason. Of course, that didn't stop any chills from rolling down his spine. No matter how prepared he was for anything, he still wasn't mentally in check to be surrounded by demons all of the time.]
I think I can go along with that. [Letting out another chuckle, Grit moving to follow only two steps behind. He has to even slow down his pace due to his wide strides. And frankly, he doesn't want to get too far ahead of the man leading him.
Don't know what's down these halls.]
The name's Grit, by the way. [Flashing a smile.] Good to meet ya.
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[His walk was slow-paced; making muscle roll, his shoulders sag. To the left and the right as headed for an unmarked door off to the side. A throw of a hand from his shoulder gave the signal and all of those eyes mulled about their business.]
[Leaving him and his would-be guest.]
[Greed threw the door open with a twist of the wrist. The next hallway was small, but well-used. Various booth closed off by curtains drawn and Greed trailed the row. Clicking and clacking as his heels thunked against the floorboards.] Sounds fair enough. Grit then.
[The sounds and conversations coming from the collection of sashed-off rooms didn't bother him. The mutterings between baited breaths and heavier hearts - this was the best way to conduct business, after all. Everyone and anyone usually kept to themselves.]
[It was why he chose the last room on the right. Peeling back a heavy-lined curtain as he slipped into a private booth. A heel went up onto the center table; smacking it with a loud crash as he gestured the other inside.] Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Grit. Doesn't seem like you're from around here.
[Lips parted. Showing off his set of knives and Greed formed comfortable into the back of the seat. Sprawling arm after arm out, letting his wrists sag on either end. As if he were king of the proverbial castle.]
[Which he was. But first - ] And then maybe you and I can be good friends, hmn?
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Exactly what he's trying to avoid here.
He hears everything, however, and he's quickly questioning if he's made the right decision. He shuts his eyes and lets out a very low sigh, but carries on. There's no where else that would even potentially accept him so it's here as his very last chance.
Hopefully it's the only one he really needs.
They enter the room, and he slowly walks in, still wearing his coat and hat as he makes his way over towards the very private booth. Well well. Almost nice enough to sleep in. He lets out a whistle.] Nice place you got here. I think I could get used to this.
[He moved over to the booth and leaned against it. Sorry, he doesn't want to get caught in any bad deals. Hope you understand. He let's out a smile.] Well, you're right. I ain't from around here, that's for sure. [He lets out a chuckle.] I got myself nice and lost down here one day and it seems like I'm stuck here. And I'm sure you know the track record for a human in this place.
Fact I ain't dead yet is quite impressive.
[He leans forward with a smirk.] You have quite the impressive business here and was wondering if you could take on a human. I'd work for cheap in exchange for room and board. [His legs cross while standing, looking directly into Greed's eyes past his sunglasses.] I'm an easy learner too. I'll make it worth your while.
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[There's a narrow inspection behind his sunglasses. Matched with the fanning out of his too-sharp teeth and Greed rolls his wrist across the outer edge of the table. Exposing his fingers one by one and it's entirely a show. Flashy and flamboyant with him as center stage.]
[As it should and always would be.] So who did you meet? That dim-whit Sloth? Or the hag, Lust? [The Sin tips himself to the side, letting those sunglasses fall just a tad. If the guy knows then those eyes of his should be familiar. Cut with a serpent's flavor and colored an eerie purple. His pupils thin out to needle points only to thicken again when a shadow passes by.]
I think you can figure it out - I'm not like the rest.
[Greed extends a hand outside the curtain before the passerby makes a get away. Snapping his fingers.] The usual. And a Side-Car for our friend here.
[The exchange is sort, sweet, and to the point. The woman only nods, thumbing her finger behind her as she passes on the drink order. Greed slithers his hand back inside, gesturing to the empty space in front of him.] There are plenty of humans here and plenty that just aren't.
I don't really care what you are Grit - as long as you work for me.
[The last word comes on strong. Like a hard brandy; thick, heavy with a buzz at his tongue. He lulls his head back, exposing the length of his throat. Which he runs a finger down in mid-thought.] Ah - [A snap of the thumb brings him back.]
- the name's Greed. It's a pleasure.
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[A show that Grit doesn't find appeal in. He doesn't get dazzled by anything too flashy. Frankly, simple is best with him. Too bad most clueless people don't get it.]
Neither. Although if that lady with the show breasts was Lust... well, she probably does her job right for men who like that. [He wasn't always straight forward himself. But it should be even simple enough for Greed to figure out. He lets out a small chuckle.] No. You're nothin' like anyone else I've met in my life.
[Whether it's good or bad, that's hard to say. Also, he'd like to say what he usually drinks but he imagines that Greed knows best. In that the beer here is probably shit. So he'll take whatever he gets. He leans forward and chuckles.] I'll get along with everyone if they get along with me. [Humming lightly.]
Greed? Sounds appropriate for you.
[Letting out another laugh.]
So... what kind of work would you like me to do then? If you're so kind to take me on as an employee. I'm curious.
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[Still.]
[Greed flashes daggers when Grit starts the name dropping.] She's not one to let anyone go. Not that easily. [But charms only work so much. For men hungry to the appeal - Grit's right: Greed can easily read the fine print.]
[Those charms and tactics won't work if the guy just isn't interested.]
[The homunculus barks, throwing his head violently back with a snap.] Ha - ! Flattery will go you no where, friend. [Weight shifts as Greed throws his ankle over the opposing knee. It's easier to dip forward like this - pressing his face, his hand a bit more into the barrier separating himself from his would-be guest. Light catches in his sunglasses as he leers in. Churning, circling, then gobbled in those inky-black shades.]
Depends on what I need done. [His lips press back together and he coils one inside to wet.] All I need is a little loyalty. Room and board is covered, but - [Index goes sky high before the Sin cocks it at the wrist.]
- you work for me. That means you'll be one of mine. Sure you're still interested?
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Then men fall too easily for her. [He grins and leans forward a bit more, looking right into those shades.] It's too bad she didn't have another form to use. She might have caught me that way. But not everyone can be so smart, right?
[The thing is, if Greed's name were Lust? Easy pickings. There's a heavy sexual tension from Grit's side and if he didn't think it would cause trouble, he would be acting on it right now.] Aww, it won't? Then all my previous plans have been ruined. [He chuckles and moves to sit up on the table a bit more, sliding his hands over to where Greed's body is.]
So long as it's not too hard, I think we can make this work. [The laugh he gave off clearly stated he was joking... right? Sure. Whatever got him in. He reached over and slipped those sunglasses off onto the table to look right into those beady eyes. Getting nice and close into almost a staring contest.]
If you don't sell me out, I'm interested. Just give me some good work to do.
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[Scratch that: no one was so lucky.]
[The tips of his nails skip across the side of his drink. Caressing at the droplets, smearing them to thinner beads. The Sin leans back a bit, his foot bouncing on the cliff-side of a knee. A grin chases his jaw, opening lips to reveal the wet-slick points of his teeth.] Most do. Her charms didn't work then.
[Not that he cares. Greed makes that clear with a shrug of the shoulder.] I don't really give a shit about that. What's good, what's wrong - you humans are so quick to judge. [Though he doubts Grit has a pointer finger ready. To cast opinions, to draw lines. He came all the way here; it'd be pretty stupid to start.]
Oh-? I'm sure we could work something out. [Behind his sunglasses, a reptilian glance flickers. Pinging to the closeness that Grit made all by himself. He whistles, a bit impressed by the sheer blatant disregard, and he unfurls his legs.] Now why the fuck would I sell you out? You came to me, friend.
[Greed doesn't move when fingers grab his shades. He doesn't even flinch when Grit boldly takes them off. His eyes are slits; expanding and retracting to that needy beat of his. To a thirst that's tangible; that's as dry as a desert desperate for a drink.] The question really is -
[A dip has him closer, a breath has him near. With pointed razors ready to bite and nails used to leaving a scratch or two.]
- what can you do for me?
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[But he currently doesn't wish that. At least, not at this moment.] Y'never know with people. One moment they're your friends, kissin' up to you and promising you'll stay friends forever, and the next, they'll send you down the river to get ahead in life. [He taps the table with a fist, sliding completely on it now and swinging around to be right in front of Greed, legs hanging in between his. He slides the drink to the side and runs his hands up into Greed's dark hair.] I'm still figuring you out.
[He breathed down a bit, breath heavy from being close like this and seeing Greed's dark little eyes. He can't connect with them. But he's not here for a connection. He's here to stay alive. But he's also here to gather his own information.]
My job is information gathering. Now, working here, a bartender position might work best...
[But he grins and takes a drink of Greed's booze.]
But... I imagine you don't have any men to service the men like me here. Why don't I do that for you? And take care of what needs to be taken care of, if you catch my drift. It ain't ideal for me, but I guarantee I'll make it work.
[He hopes.]
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[When Grit's practically in his lap, Greed's thighs spread on instinct. No, it's not his first choice. Not when there's plenty of women ready and waiting. But it isn't as if he's about to complain; absolutes. Rights, wrongs - they don't apply to him.]
Information, huh? You'll find that a lot of it passes through here.
[Via a drunken slur or a good tip. Between the whining confessions or something else. Information is a commodity he's got full territory of. And those that know just what really lurks in the south-side of Dublith are quick to bring it.]
[Greed plants his elbows behind him. A gesture that doesn't need any explanation: he doesn't intend to touch - not when the other is so willing to ease into him. To swallow up any sort of comfort and force the door wide open.]
[Instead, he raises an index lazily up.] And eventually, all of that comes back to me. [From Central, from the North. The word of the underworld is quick and easily preyed upon.] You guarantee it, huh? [Finally, he leans forward. Threatening teeth oh-so-close to Grit's throat.]
Hope you can keep that promise. I'm not interested in someone who isn't loyal - or someone who plans on trying to trick me out of what's owed. If that works for you - [His wrist turns, his fingers fan out, and the rest of his sentence falls away with purring hum.]
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[Hey, he may like women but so many guys could say that. And let's face it, he could easily fill that gap where there just wasn't enough. Sure, Greed probably could have anything with any woman but hey, they weren't here. So they weren't currently enough to get Greed to call one in. He runs a finger over his chin.]
Why let it pass through? When there can be a toll on it. Make some more money, Greed.
[He laughed, moving his hand over Greed's leg and moving closer. Not that they could be much closer. They're practically sharing breath at this point as he rubs skin with him. Greed doesn't need to grab and touch, and frankly, he kind of hopes his partner takes a hands off approach to their first time.]
I guarantee it. Or your money back. [He chuckles and moved in... slipping down to his neck to give it a suck, a hand moving down to unzip his pants reaching in to give him a little rip.] And it works. Probably. I'll let you know if I make good money. Deal?
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[Greed tips his head as his partner runs a line at his throat. His teeth exposed, he merely watches the other. An elbow falls back to the crook of his seat and he opens wide. To the touch, to the prying. An attention he can step to just fine, the homunculus reads it for what it is. If Grit wants to take the plunge, he'll let him.]
[His heel taps back, bringing the curve of his boot upward.] You guarantee it, huh? Ha - ! I like you. [The lips at his neck aren't an unfamiliar sort. Rough, cracked, with a brush of stubble. There's no question to what Grit is and so what. The Sin slouches backward and his head moves aside to give the other all the room in the world.] I'm not interested in selling you off - that's just not my style. But if you want to work that kind of business, just remember: I don't let anyone take what's mine.
That means, my business comes first. [Not to say he wouldn't take care of the other. Far from it. It's merely a warning - if Grit should turn tail and run, if he should decide to bring trouble, Greed won't hesitate to make sure he knows what's what.]
[The opposite is true as well, should anyone be stupid enough to try something. Greed closes one eye and his lips seal to a line.] It's a deal. But first thing's first - [His skull lulls back, forcing Grit to meet him eye to eye.]
- why don't you tell me everything you want, hmn?
➥ SOME GOOD OL'FASHIONED VIOLENCE
➥ How it works |
Prompts are the usual: lyrics, music, photo, whatever. Canon, AU. Because sometimes violence is the answer.
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[Leaving just him and his.]
[Between the pulse-beats, the real damage can be seen. The blood across the back-mirror of the bar, now cracked with spidery edges that threaten to fall to the floor with any hitch of breath. The splintered wood overhead just hanging with a groan.]
[But that really isn't the important part.]
Ah- now, that wasn't very smart.
[Greed's voice is an echo. Between the warped-maw of his jaw, which is hanging by the basic threat of a tendon. Half of his face is reforming, spindling fingers of muscle and flesh as that wicked-red electric sparks. Muting out the dim-overhang of the lights above as he rolls his head straight. Through the gaping side, the movement of his tongue is grotesque. Testing it while bone and skin reforms under the eerie pulse.] Here I thought we could do things peacefully.
[A hand glides across the prep-part of his bar, smearing a streak of blood with it. But he's already got his talons up; all hairs raised and his grin is anything but pleasant. Still smiling, but dangerous. Greed grinds his teeth as he rocks a shoulder back with a resounding pop.]
That's really too bad.
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he wipes his hands on a napkin on one of the untouched tables, gingerly going over each finger. being kamui means not having to be confined with the kind of regular violence that greed was so used to, blasting vermin left and right was his privilege to claim. and yet - occasionally - he gets a little dirty, because kamui is also a brat, and there are things he feels that are due to him, regardless of how unjust that is.
such as the claiming and taking of faces.]
I doubt it. [he says pleasantly.] What is annoying, however, is your little trick.
[wires snake quickly around greed's limbs, choking joints and moving into bone and muscle and solidifying along with his skin.]
You make death a hard business to sell.
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Sorry to disappoint but unlike the rest, I actually come back.
[The tips of his claws flutter as he finds them. Clicking and clacking off the hardened shell of his palm and the Sin arches his head forward. Meeting Kamui face to horrible face. Despite the predicament, that snide grin is still present. With the pull-back of his upper lip, as if daring the other to jump first.] Not really interested in that type of business. Or did you already forget after all this time?
[One eye widens with a wicked look. Feral as he strains against the snaking wires around him. Forcing his body forward even as he hears bones snap and crunch; as skin peels and reforms with trembling electric. Greed closes his lips up, letting his smile grow to a faint line even as a bead of blood slides down his chin.]
But here we are - it's foolish. You can't beat me like this, friend.
[Those jaws open wide and the jagged edges of his teeth are stained red one second, cleaned white the next. With a swallow, a swipe of the tongue.]
So what do you plan to do now?
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[not rising to the bait. the wires hook; twist; and then go taut, slowly forcing to rend apart his limbs.]
Since you like rebuilding yourself so much, surely this wouldn't be a problem.
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[It's all that comes out. A spit-sputter of a noise as blood gurgles up his throat and Greed's eyes roll into the back of his head. The wires do the trick, as expected; turning skin to threads, rendering muscle and bone apart like the unfurling of a well-knit rope. The momentum leaves the body to hit the ground and a wet and ominous thud follows.]
[But the hissing of his current starts not too soon after. Spiraling out in lines that arc and snap against the ceiling. As if combating the electricity already running through the joint and there's a solid clack. Then another.] Oi, oi, oi -
[He doesn't sound amused. Even as he tries to stand, stumbling left and right like a drunkard on the town. His body is mending, but not quickly enough.]
- that's not very nice, friend. [Greed slowly rises from behind the bar. A fiend from the grave and his mending limbs are a mess of exposed tissue. Muscle that intertwines back against itself like the most terrible sort of puzzle.]
But that really isn't going to work.
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[the bits of electricity that slither all over his limbs were interesting, and kamui wonders at their power. he decides to play a game: every time his body moves towards its centre, kamui pushes them apart again with his power.
he points a hand towards him, willing the pieces to slow down and stay apart as the wires move and twist and rend.]
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[Wrath.]
[The lights go out and Greed's eyes finally roll back into his skull. Showing white as his limbs are removed. For a while, it seems like the silence will last a lifetime.]
[But from the torn words, the pulse strikes. Jerking wildly as fingers of red cut and coil. A light bulb shatters from above, then another.] You -
[Greed's voice is a spit. Making the blood at his lip bubble and pop. But as he lifts his head, that grin of his is easy to make out. Even with the blood making those too-sharp teeth stain the same color that's lighting him up. Making the shadows on his face stretch and etch his skin. He swallows audibly.]
- ha - ! [The laughter is sickening, his grin even more so. The wires seem to be slowing the process, but the core of his rings true. Jointing bone back together in square-cut shapes that are hardly natural.]
Then - [Greed's expression is wild. Feral in nature and design as his fingers jerk. Mimicking that of a dead rattle.] - what's your point. [Not a question, but a spat-back statement.]
The Trifecta | CLOSED
Not for him, not for the other. And certainly, she always made sure to keep the handle just a little bit loose.
The window to the balcony swayed open. A light breeze took it the rest of the way, making it bang and flap uselessly against the adorning frame. The air was a chill-cool. Wafting in from a far-off shore that smelt of salt still thick from the day; with the undertone of sticky oil holding. And like the very substance, he came. Birthed from a blackness that he seemed to adore. It crept into his everything - the leather on his legs, the bend of his boots. To the shivering-sharp spikes of his hair.
A criminal to most, a monster to some, and the devil in this would-be meeting of unlikely bed-mates.
Greed ran his fingers down his chest, raising his head to take a look inside. He chased the furthest reaches of the wall. Following where moonlight touched him, turning him an ashy gray. This was the way it had to be; the way she silently demanded it to be. A place of solitude and scheming.
Of which it was a private party of three.
A sliver of gold was pulled from his pocket: his calling card. The coin was small, smooth. Rough at the edges. He placed it on the corner of a desk in plain sight.
It was only a waiting game now.
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But others could hide at the center of that crowd, at the center of attention, and he was one of them. He was not someone able to wait quietly or arrive secretly.
He was not carried on a salt-rich air from the sea, air that smelt of tar and oil and sweat. He arrived on a breath of sugar-sweetness, on air warm from the bakers ovens, on honeyed over-tones and the hint of vanilla spices. And he'd arrived hours ago, laughing and drinking and telling stories under a high-roofed hall, hidden in plain sight.
Now darkness had well and truly fallen however, and his companions had taken themselves to bed- theirs or someone else's, or settled onto the floor in content stupors, he was free to go as he pleased. He moved as if he owned the place, a certain swagger in his walk as he headed down corridors, slipped through doorways and up stair-cases. And then he was there, a familiar door with it's familiar tapestries on either side, and despite the best advice in the land, unbarred.
He let himself in.
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It made her bold most often, if they were going to look, she would give them something to look at. She must glitter and shine and be as much like staring into the sun. Which most often, was tiring if grand, but it had some benefits. Queens did not skulk, did not hide themselves away.
The expectation meant she slipped by guards easily enough. Hood pulled down and her red, red hair tucked away. She did not look so much for confirmation as she simply knew they would be there. The door pulled free, and she stepped through. A smile playing quietly as she pulled back the hood, content for however long to simply be away from responsbilities. "Good evening." The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned on it. Content for a moment to do nothing more than look at them both. "I see I am last again, as usual."
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"It's not like we don't have the time, lovely."
He stepped without a whisper. Every clack of his heel an announcement, a punctuation. It was the practiced waltz of a predator - of a creature that lived for the underbelly. That was trained on instinct to hunt and hunt he did. But not like his kin; not like the one who had made him. Instead, Greed slunk like a feline in waiting. Shoulders dipping and rising as he spine easily loosened. He touched up the leather of his thigh, running streaks that groaned against his rough-smooth fingertips.
They intersected like the triangle they were and Greed made the last point. An acute shape that could have been symbolic. A thumb fell loosely into the loop of his slacks, then the other. As flame caught in his sunglasses. Licking at the black glass before racing across the stark-silver trim. "And we don't exactly have unwanted company," Greed charmed from his throat. He could easily slip away from business and no one questioned. No one dared.
They knew that the boss had business on the other side of town. And it wasn't something to pry too deep into.
The homunculus raised his chin, seizing the opportunity to flick a glance between the powers. The arrangement was simple, the entanglement anything but. They were a trifecta; a struggle of rising powers that somehow found a common goal.
He sucked in his lower lip briefly.
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"Glad you could slip away, Queenie." Gabriel said brightly, moving towards her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It's never exactly the same without you." Maybe in that dim light she noticed the wink, maybe not, but it was implied with his teasing tone.
There was something to be said about this meeting in darkness, the room barely light. All this sneaking around might have been better suited for people whose purposes weren't exactly kosher, but although there was the embodiment of Sin, Greed wasn't exactly evil. And Gabriel thought that he pretty much balanced it out. Having a Queen along for the ride- one that was Head of the Church too- probably tipped this little meeting into the realm of almost saintly.
...Depending on exactly what those saints got up to, of course.
"And now we three are here," Gabriel said, grinning. "I'll get the drinks. Usuals?" Wine for her, rich and deep and old but not too dry, something fit for a Queen. Scotch for him- something with a kick, a bite that he could bite back, something that got those feet tapping. And for himself something sugary sweet, thick. Not that it said much about him.
➥ HUNTING MONSTERS | closed to gabriel
Yet he was still there. Without a hitch of change on his face, without a single scar of time to his name.
He didn't forget, either. The memories of a life long-since passed, the last moments still lingering. But as the years slipped away, old wounds healed and eventually, it was like old times. In a bar settled deep within the heart of an old city, the neon lights buzzed on. The old, familiar crowd followed. Creatures that lost themselves to myth and legend, humans who could find no where to belong. Some came in passing, others stayed. Telling stories of heaven and hell; of hunters that would soon follow.
Not that he particularly cared.
2015 came in the same whirlwind of celebration as the last. New York, with its infamous ball-drop, called more than the usual and the bar had been more crowded in the weeks before. Some drunk away to forget the yester-years, others drank for things to come. And still, he was just there. Taking and spinning them for all they were worth.
A devil by a different name.
Greed casually flicked the bar sign on, listening as the electric hum sounded off through the panes of glass. New York had become his final resting place and he had seen it all; the vast expanse of Europe, the deep south. And in his search, he had swindled them all: of cash, of information. Only to disappear to the next, mapping a trail that led him straight back: New York.
The city that never slept; the city that held enough information to keep his attention.
The Devil's Nest was quiet by late afternoon and the Sin pressed his hand into the back of his skull. He forced his palm to the dip of his neck, making his skull lull to the side with a lazy crack. A groan escaped him; hushing out of his lips as he let his arm sag to the side with a boneless fall.
No, the years didn't matter. The place didn't matter. In the end, it was the same: business. His business. And for a creature who wanted it all?
It was never, ever enough.
Re: ➥ HUNTING MONSTERS | closed to gabriel
New York was not a city he spent much time in. There were a lot of monsters there- human for the most part- and if he started trying to tidy up, he'd never actually finish. New evils would creep in, as they always did in cities, and he'd never get to leave again. But sometimes a little sight-seeing trip was well worth the effort of dragging himself away from small-town America.
He'd heard of The Devil's Nest. It wasn't a very original name, but it fit, so Gabriel supposed the owner could be forgiven. Not that he'd ever met the man. And he used that term loosey. Still, when in New York, The Devil's Nest was the place to visit. If only because you heard news there, and since his so-called death, Gabriel had been desperate for news. He's had a little, form time to time, enough to drop in once or twice on the Brochesters and little Cassandra, who seemed to be fucking things up well by themselves.
Of course, Gabriel couldn't exactly make himself obvious anymore, which meant all his tricks had been drastically down-scaled. And that meant he was bored. B. O. R. E. D. Bored.
So maybe, he guessed, hanging out in a place like The Nest would be good for him. And even if he didn't find any new projects to keep him entertained, there would be gossip. And even if there wasn't gossip (and what sort of bar didn't have gossip?) then he was sure he could entertain himself some other way. He did enjoy watching fights start, after all.
It was already busy when he arrived. It was an old fashioned sort of place, more like a Tavern than a bar, even by New York bar standards- but he supposed this place had no reason to follow human fashions and trends. So Gabriel shifted his way through the knot of other patrons, and found himself a seat at the bar, off to one side. Unlikely to be bothered by drunks and more importantly with a great view of the rest of the bar, perfect for eavesdropping.
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A small strum of music beat on, the tune tinning through the aged speakers. The words and the tune drifted in and out of muddled conversations, though a few lines crept in once in a while. Weaving between the hollers and whispers, it came: "You have admired, every man desires. Everyone is king when there's no one left to pawn-"
And as if right on cue, a shout drowned it out. A loud crack run right through. As one of the patrons came crashing onto the bar top, his arms flailing uselessly over the edge. He was decked in the typical biker motif - leather vest, bandanna wrapped snug around his shaved-bald skull. The man sputtered, reaching to his belt to pull at a switch blade.
But he was promptly stopped and finally, a voice came crawling from behind the bar. "Oi, oi, oi - " The tone was baritone thick, low. Drumming through a set of vocal chords as the sickly-yellow light illuminated the source. It was like he came out of now where - with a sinister-cat grin and sunglasses that gave the look of hollowed-out sockets. Greed leered over the face of his bar, practically oozing forward as he held the offender's hand by the wrist. Nails dug into the flesh, gesturing the grip away from the preferred weapon. "-now, that's not very nice. Pulling something like that."
The homunculus leaned over the man, meeting him eye to eye. It was enough to have the other release his grip and the weapon hit the floor of the bar with a deafening click. Greed pressed in closer, uncomfortably so. "Leave your money and go - I'm not interested in the trouble." Which seemed to be enough for the man in question. He snarled once at the Sin, but second-guessed himself a minute later. A few back-treading clicks of the heels sent him off, the front door banging on its hinges as he went.
Where there was silence, the crowd filled back in. A bit quieter now with the excitement come and gone. Greed oozed backwards, his hands slipping under the bar as he took grip of a bottle between the spaces of his knuckles. He lifted his chin, noting the other at the end of the table. Not a face he recognized, but that wasn't all too surprising.
Still, there was something. A feeling that sung out to his tune-rotten core and called for one thing only:
Power and oh, wasn't he just wanton for it. "New in town, or just passing by?" The homunculus hummed, his nonchalance present with each ease and sag of his shoulder. The fur at his collar bristled as he moved; fanning across the back of his neck like some sort of bird in plume. "Guess it doesn't really matter, right?"
Two bottles came to the top of the bar and he pried them open with his knuckles, sending the caps chiming off the surface. He pushed the pair forward with a toss of the fingers, letting them slide on the collected sweat. "Sorry you had to see that, friend. Some people just don't know when to quit." Faceless hands pressed cash in exchange and he took it without hesitation; moving seamlessly over to roll and pinch the cold-hard coin into tight rolls. They, too, disappeared - shoved and pressed into the back-pocket of his leathers.
"So - " He started in, his voice trailing off. A slump forward had him chasing the length of the bar. Until he was close enough to saddle near Gabriel, his hip checking into the back-face of the bar.
"-what can I do for you?"
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It’s only when a big dumb lug starts pulling out the knives that Gabriel normally leaves. Knives aren’t fun. Well, not in this sort of situation. But he has to admit that there is something about the way the man behind the bar deals with the scene that is impressive. No threat, no violence only the deep voice and the hint of disappointment. It makes Gabriel smirk, watching the grasp on the wrist. People talked about barely controlled power. This was the opposite. This was strength, not caged and muzzled, but so deeply combined into being that it was almost comparable with his own Grace.
His elbow rested on the wood of the bar, chin in his hand as the ugly oaf left, tail firmly between his legs. In Gabriel’s honest opinion, the man had got away lightly. He’d seen the muscle flex in the arm of the barman, and there was no doubt that bone could have so easily been broken. But maybe it was a waste of effort on someone so insignificant. And as the man had said, he didn’t want trouble.
Gabriel was still staring after the would-be-fighter as that self-same voice addressed him. He turned his attention back, properly looking at the barman now. The dark spiked hair, the sunglasses (in a dark bar? At night?) and the vest. The muscles he’d already noticed, but they seemed pretty obvious all over. Huh.
“Neither.” He replies, shifting on the stool. He wasn’t passing through, and he wasn’t new in town. He’d been here before, many times over the last couple of hundred years. Not on the way to anywhere, but just because the place existed, and there were humans there. But he smiles slightly as the man continues, “I’m guessing you get a lot of patrons that don’t fancy telling you exactly why they are here or how long they are staying.” It was often safer not to for many unusual people, after all.
The barman’s eyes remained on him, studying, and Gabriel wondered if he was being sized up and pigeon-holed. He didn’t look like much, perhaps. But he had a feeling that the man in front of him wasn’t human- well, he knew that. He couldn’t get a handle on his soul, for one. Creatures other than humans were tricky, even for an arch-angel.
He moved closer, and Gabriel dropped his arm, sitting a little straighter. “I’ve seen worse, and so have you. What’s a bar without the occasional scuffle?” He said with a shrug. He’d seen nothing terrible, nothing that would make anyone wince and certainly nothing that would concern him.
The offer of a drink makes him smile though. “I guess you have rum?”
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The rum bottle removed was old and definitely not from the current century. The faded label on the side painted a picture of a well-worn mermaid coiled around a barely-legible anchor. Greed flicked out an index and the tip coaxed to a smooth, black sheen. Where a nail used to a be, a crooked-talon shivered to a point. He twisted his wrist, slicing the metal clasp in one, quick motion. The butt of his palm pressed into the tinny cap, nudging it free with a sullen pop.
"Speaking from experience?" The homunculus collected the remnants of the clasp, bringing up and into his palm as the coating on his skin receded away. It crawled like oil, slipping down until it was only flesh and blood left. With his other hand, Greed flipped a glass out from underneath. The lip of it spun through his fingers, righting itself until he sat it down on the bar with a hollow thunk. "Not that I care - not about to deny anyone. Wouldn't really be me if I did."
From the bottle, a rich liquid flowed. Hefty, dark and spicy with age. It was probably bottled somewhere closer to the turn of the century. Before two wars split the world and a new order sprung forth. It still stood, a gift from the past. Greed filled the portion out to the brim, running his thumb across the edge of the glass to make it sing in a humming dissonance. "Ah, right - that's a little rude."
Greed sat the bottle down, cleaning off his hand with a swipe at his thigh. He touched his collarbone gingerly, bending a bit to make a mockery of a bow. And all the while, his grin spread; his eyebrows pressed. As the tips of his fingers scissored off his bones:
"The name's Greed - it's a pleasure."
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He watches the talon scratch, the pointed tip not only lifting the cap without any trouble at all, but leaving the smallest nick in the glass itself- no small feat and Gabriel is quietly impressed. Werewolf? No. He's meet enough of those to know the aura they radiate, and despite the coiled spring of power in the barman's muscles, there is too much control...
He shrugs at the question of experience. He knows he doesn't have to answer- not out of secrecy, but because he has the vague feeling that the man-shaped creature across from him is old enough to have seen some of the world, and be able to answer his own question. Once you get to a certain age, there aren't many surprises left and you know how things work.
Gabriel smirks at the bow, and gestures for Greed to come and join him. He briefly wonders if it's a nickname, a descriptive, but he doesn't ask. And for the moment, he doesn't provide a name himself. There's not need, for the moment, for him to be anything other than an anonymous patron.
"That looks like the good stuff. Join me for a glass." He offers. "And you can tell me know long this place has been here." Because that is something Gabriel is interested to find out. This bar seems timeless, like it sits outside of the current fashions and trends of New York and the wider world, but likewise, he's sure that it wasn't here the last time he was here. Then again, there were a lot of things that weren't here last time.
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And secrets never came cheap.
However, his smile split as soon as the other coaxed him on. A flash of teeth riding up one side of his jaw, the twist of it more akin to an angler grinning in the deep, deep depths. He sent one hand up, his fingers twisting to beckon someone on cue. A woman came to his call, her lips thick and budding. She regarded Gabriel with a faint look of suspicion, then decided against it. The Boss knew what he was doing.
At least he did most of the time. "Take over lovely, got business to take care of," Greed charmed back in, his voice sickly-sweet and deadly. A purr held in his throat, riding on a long string of R(s) that stretched on for a few lingering minutes. He slipped past her, grazing the small of her back with his elbow. A warning, a gesture, a conversation:
Keep an eye out for trouble.
The bottle came with him, the neck of it swept up in the thick of his knuckles. He exited along the side, pushing the door ajar with a prod of his hip. A few sharp clicks of his heel and a sauntering walk had him at Gabriel quicker than expected and Greed took the seat closest. He saddled his heel into one of the rungs, reaching blinded behind him for a glass. "Hmn?" He perked, one eyebrow cocked above the frames of his shades. His lower lip sagged before he belted out a quick, hard laugh. It hissed from his jaws, as noxious as the smoke that lingered in thinning shreds overhead. "Longer than most," an answer, but vague.
The bottle tipped into the glass, the opening burping as liquor sloshed and slapped the inside of the glass. Filled to the brim, he sat the rest back down with a heavy thud. "-but if you really have to know, it's been about a hundred years."
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And it was her fault - a brief moment, where she had let down her guard, where exhaustion seeped into her bones and her focus wavered - only a moment, but that had been all they had needed. Even if she was a demon hunter, she was still only one woman, and she could only hold out for so long. Now she was their prisoner, arms bound behind her and pondering over the command given to her captors by their leader, as he had looked her over as she'd glared up at him, defiant and proud even in defeat, and his lip curled in amusement as he laughed.
Leave her with our other guest. I'm sure they'll enjoy each others company.
Who else was here? Lightning hadn't heard of anyone else being captured - at least, not captured alive. But her question is soon answered, as the knots tying her hands are loosened before she's thrown face first into her cell - which, to her surprise, is surprisingly spacious. Refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out, she still can't hold back a sharp grunt as skin scrapes against stone but that's enough to them. She hears them bark a laugh as the door behind her clicks shut, before their footsteps and harsh, barking laughter grow fainter and fainter.
There's someone in here with her, of course, and she tries to figure out who, while she works her hands free as her eyes adjust to the darkness, trying make sense of the shadows. Unlike her, as she slips free, wrists red and raw from the rope rubbing against them, they're still bound - and, it seems, the reason why the cell is so large. A massive crucifix towers in the room, made of either stone or metal; it's hard to tell exactly what, with its surface darkened with age and pitted with runes and inscriptions. And hanging on that stone cross, is a man - arms spread open, pinned to the object with heavy, steel chains, each link covered in painstakingly chiseled runes.
It seems rather overkill for a mere human - but as she pushes herself up from the stone floor, her hand brushes against a carved rune into the floor that flickers at her touch; the letters and shapes light up briefly, revealing the cell completely etched with symbols and letters of binding, disturbed as if she'd thrown a stone into a still pond, before fading back into darkness.
And she recognizes some of these runes and symbols, bits and pieces of inscriptions. She's used them in her work, in hunting her quarry and prey; to bind and trap them before ultimately destroying them. ]
Demon!
[ Lightning spits out the word as if it were a curse, springing to her feet as she reaches for a weapon that's no longer there to strike him down. Too late, she bitterly remembers that of course they'd stripped her of all her weapons; all she can do is crouch against the ground and glare at the bound devil, looking as if she'd love to spit in his face. ]
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[Something buried, something hidden. And all for one purpose only.]
[The sudden jolt of the runes is what alerts him first; sparks of light run across the length of the cross, only to dart in a horizontal line. Similar to fire following a trial of gunpowder, the abysmal red brightens then fades. It temporarily hones his jagged features that much sharper before shadows take him again, washing back in as the faint hum vanishes with one last sputtering hiss.]
[Greed doesn't know how long he's been down here. Days, months, years. His joints are stiff with disuse. He can feel the slight twitch in his fingers, his senses rebooting once again. The chains are his throat feel clammy against his skin, but as he slowly crawls out of his half-dazed stupor, the metal links start to sizzle. Threatening protective magic against his own, insatiable want.]
Now, that's not very nice - [The Sin answers in a drawl. His voice is airy and loft; the vocal chords finding themselves with the prolonged disuse. He tests his wrist as he speaks, twisting it until the chain link finally constricts his movement to a still. It's then that his eyes ease open and the color is telling of what he really is; a deep purple, faded with a haunting kind of hue. They blare through the dark and light spills against the pale-tan color of his skin. Greed lulls his head to he side, the chains rattling and tightening to the pull: the charm of Marley's ghost.]
- but you're right. Though, I figured you wouldn't really hold it against me. It's not like they gave you much of a choice either and I'm gunna guess it's pretty safe to assume you aren't working on their side. Did I get that right?
[The instinct to grab for a weapon gives her away, her placement in the cell only adding to the fact. Either she's done something to upset the higher ranks or, more than likely, she's from an opposite faction. Walking too close to a den of wolves and now, here they are.]
[The demon tests his binds again, listening as metal clinks and clacks. A sharp hiss cuts through the static, the four blades lodged expertly into his body shivering as his own electrical current tries to fend off the intrusion. The action proves to no avail; whoever placed him down here knew what they were doing. A weak point, the proverbial Achilles heel and they found all four.]
[He turns his head down to look at her again, a small grin slicing a line of white in the dark. The lids of his eyes fall heavy, his expression sultry despite the obvious predicament.] Before you start getting any wild ideas, I'm not like the rest. Try not to do anything too brash, hmn?
[A droplet ploops in a puddle nearby; a rat answers with a shrill squeak. Greed rocks his shoulder, feeling it press and stiffen against his stone slab.] So - what's your name, lovely?
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I'm not anyone's lovely.
[ Especially not yours, the unspoken words hanging disdainfully in the air. Her fist clenches around the hilt of a gunblade that's not there, as if she'd like nothing more than to strike him down for his boldness, but she straightens herself with the natural grace of a fighter although she doesn't relax. Even with Greed both physically and magically restrained, she remains cautious, tense as a coiled spring, ready to strike at a moment's notice, matching his gaze with her own, a hard and steely ice blue stare. ]
You can call me Lightning.
[ Not her real name of course, like she'd give a demon that - but she'd thrown away her old name when she was forced to leave her childhood behind, to quickly fit into the role that she'd been abruptly thrust into as both caregiver and breadwinner for her and her sister. And so she had chosen 'Lightning' - a strong-sounding, tough name her younger self had thought. ]
So what's yours?
[ Her fingernails dig into her palm as it takes all her control to force herself to speak to him with the barest drop of civility. There's nothing else that she'd like to do more than to heap scorn upon him, accuse him and judge him guilty for the sins he and his brethren have done to humanity, as anyone other hunter surely would had done; that or bite out their own tongue than suffer his presence any longer. But she's trapped here, in the heart of enemy territory, with no hope of rescue - and she can't stay here, as her sister's smile flashes across her memory.
She couldn't leave her sister, not like their parents had. ]
And I'm guessing that you're not their friend if they've got you down here like this.
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[A drop of water hits the chains, sizzling on contact. Greed's eyes close shut with a slow, smarmy expression. He hasn't had company in quite some time and the only ones that even dare to come this far down are ordered to do so. Or they have something more to gain. Only once has he had a visit that wasn't on schedule and that had been taken care of swiftly and unjustly. The execution done right outside the chamber door. That had been some time ago, though.]
[To have another prisoner down here, well. That only meant that things up above had taken a turn somewhere.] That's right. You catch on quick. [When he lowers his head, the slick black on his forehead and arms is a little more noticeable. Like paint smears in sharp, rectangular patters - they map out where two sets of horns used to be. Cut off, most likely a jab when he first was thrown into the dank prison. A word of warning: "If you're not with us, then we'll make sure you look the part."]
[Greed snaps his tongue and the chains slither yet again. Despite the momentary lapse, his glance is unyielding and one eyebrow shoots up in a silent response. As if somehow, he saw that smile - if somehow, every thought was as clear as day.] So that's it, huh. Sorry, couldn't help but notice. [His neck bends, offering him a better look-see. The bindings around his throat tense when he gets too far, earning a slight grunt.] There is a way out, y'know.
[Of course, the way out comes at a price. And that's all too clear with the Sin's expression - as his mouth widens, glinting in an grin like the Cheshire just waiting, waiting, waiting. "Didn't see me Alice? Oh, so sorry, so sorry. Why don't we see just how far this rabbit hole goes, hmn?"]
I've got a proposition for you, lov - [Greed swallows and a curt-cut laugh hisses from his teeth. It trails off in a twiddle; as the forks of his tongue rattle and vibrate against the smooth-side of his jaw.] - Lightning. You get me down and I'll show you the way out. Equivalent exchange. [A loud snap sounds off, his thumb connecting against the underside of his palm. Like a match to a box, his curved talon scrapes and sparks.]
Sounds fair, no?