[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.
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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.