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.
no subject
"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.