[The room inside is almost too dark; like a blackened oven and the radiating heat draws lines in the dark. Shadows move, a form slowly stands. A silhouette under a backdrop of fire that spews and spits inside the open-mouth grate of the furnace. Along the wall, his tail skips across the surface. Skating small trails that singe and burn into whatever paint's still left.]
[Greed plants his hand to the back of his skull, his jaw open wide. The groan that escapes is softy, smoldering; thick. An exhale of smoke lingers by his mouth, lighting up now and again with a few pieces of still-hot ash. They blaze with a wicked red, then blink out of existence when he twists. The bones in his back snap together, running a rhythm of crunches and cracks. A snap, a crackle, a pop and everything's right back where it should be.]
[Circumstances aside.]
[One eye peels open in the dark, the white of it reduced to nothing more that of a hollow socket. Black; from the tips of his hair to the sharps of his claws. Thin vein work lightens with the touch of fresh air and Greed's head sways to the side. At the edge of his frown, a pair of fangs have protruded similar to an under-bite.] Ah-? [He finally manages and his torso lifts, his boot swings out. And the pitch-black roll of smog takes momentum for a test-drive, exiting the room in thinning threads that touch and caress as they move further down the hallway.] It isn't the first time, Stocke. And it would take a lot more to hurt me.
[But the change in Stocke's voice makes his eye narrow and Greed sways in the direction of the sound. While it had been hard to see at first, what with the onslaught of molten ash and blackened smoke, the other's predicament comes more into focus as the after-burn makes its exit.] Oi, oi, oi - [The tinniness to his voice fades with his baritone and the Sin sinks into his spine, jerking around to get a better look at just what sort of problems the fog has brought this time.]
[There's nothing much left to Stocke, in all honesty. Wisps of shadow cling helplessly to exposed bone, the hollows of his eyes wander without pupils to guide them. Greed takes one step forward and his tail cuts through the air, slicing a fresh line ash free from the tip. He doesn't hesitate in the slightest, moving in to further inspect what's his] - you've got it a bit worse, hmn?
[He comes in close, but the space given is somewhat of an unspoken agreement. Light, fire - whatever Stocke's become, that much has been made clear. A weakness of sorts and the former homunculus tips his chin. At the edge of his nose, his sunglasses shine in a fiery glow. As gold and red run races across the silver rims. Greed nudges the pair up his eyes with the edge of his knuckle and while it's hard to hear, the growl in the back of his throat lights up. Stoking his neck to a brilliant shade of gold. But then it's gone and the color of his skin quickly fades back into that of cooling charcoal.] You all right?
[The leathery whip of his tail slithers along side Stocke, its barbed tip poised to strike. It finds its intended target and his tail coils around the still-warm knob to the door, slowly easing it shut again. Greed's a bit closer now and the grin he has is a little more forced. Weary.]
no subject
[Greed plants his hand to the back of his skull, his jaw open wide. The groan that escapes is softy, smoldering; thick. An exhale of smoke lingers by his mouth, lighting up now and again with a few pieces of still-hot ash. They blaze with a wicked red, then blink out of existence when he twists. The bones in his back snap together, running a rhythm of crunches and cracks. A snap, a crackle, a pop and everything's right back where it should be.]
[Circumstances aside.]
[One eye peels open in the dark, the white of it reduced to nothing more that of a hollow socket. Black; from the tips of his hair to the sharps of his claws. Thin vein work lightens with the touch of fresh air and Greed's head sways to the side. At the edge of his frown, a pair of fangs have protruded similar to an under-bite.] Ah-? [He finally manages and his torso lifts, his boot swings out. And the pitch-black roll of smog takes momentum for a test-drive, exiting the room in thinning threads that touch and caress as they move further down the hallway.] It isn't the first time, Stocke. And it would take a lot more to hurt me.
[But the change in Stocke's voice makes his eye narrow and Greed sways in the direction of the sound. While it had been hard to see at first, what with the onslaught of molten ash and blackened smoke, the other's predicament comes more into focus as the after-burn makes its exit.] Oi, oi, oi - [The tinniness to his voice fades with his baritone and the Sin sinks into his spine, jerking around to get a better look at just what sort of problems the fog has brought this time.]
[There's nothing much left to Stocke, in all honesty. Wisps of shadow cling helplessly to exposed bone, the hollows of his eyes wander without pupils to guide them. Greed takes one step forward and his tail cuts through the air, slicing a fresh line ash free from the tip. He doesn't hesitate in the slightest, moving in to further inspect what's his] - you've got it a bit worse, hmn?
[He comes in close, but the space given is somewhat of an unspoken agreement. Light, fire - whatever Stocke's become, that much has been made clear. A weakness of sorts and the former homunculus tips his chin. At the edge of his nose, his sunglasses shine in a fiery glow. As gold and red run races across the silver rims. Greed nudges the pair up his eyes with the edge of his knuckle and while it's hard to hear, the growl in the back of his throat lights up. Stoking his neck to a brilliant shade of gold. But then it's gone and the color of his skin quickly fades back into that of cooling charcoal.] You all right?
[The leathery whip of his tail slithers along side Stocke, its barbed tip poised to strike. It finds its intended target and his tail coils around the still-warm knob to the door, slowly easing it shut again. Greed's a bit closer now and the grin he has is a little more forced. Weary.]
Looks like we've run into some bad luck.