Killua - it's a pleasure. [From behind the bar, Greed gets to work. There might not be many customers to tend to, but there are still some. The thick chord of his tail wafts out aimlessly, touching bottle after bottle with a sort of gentleness that would be best suited for a mother 'Croc. The barbed end skitters across glass, its pieced-flesh jiggling with a set of three silver coins.]
[A bottle flips into his hand, his knuckles wrapping around the rather long cork. He pauses in the middle of it, a surprised sort of look gracing him. Until his teeth split his face wide open and a small hiss of laughter churns in his throat. Burning embers flick from his tongue and Greed tilts his head back, yanking the cork up and out in the process.] Ha - ! You're more informed than you look. That's pretty impressive - [The laughter simmers out, the cork pops. Into the open mouth of a trash barrel it goes, disappearing with a drop behind the bar.] - that's a shame, but I won't force you. Not interest if you aren't.
[Information, though. Greed snatches a glass by the lip, his claws skittering in the inside drop to draw a few lines. He pours out a healthy helping of something; red, thick. It spews in the glass and the smell is a souring sterile.] I can work something out, just depends on what you've got to offer. Nothing in this world is free, kid. [He pauses, letting the liquor pop and splash with a few wet smacks.] Equivalent exchange - [The same montage he's said before and Greed plugs the bottle with his thumb, sending it back to the depths of the bar. He gestures into the air for someone behind Killua, his index and middle beckoning in silence.] - information for information. Or something else, if it's worth it.
[A smokey hand wafts past the other, its fingers bony and exposed. The man is nothing more than a shell; his long black hair slowly pilfering off into shapeless, bruised-colored air. His white, pupil-less eyes roll in his sockets, briefly acknowledging Killua. Then the drink's gone and the stranger with it. Back to darker, quieter pastures.]
But you've come to the right place. [Greed's voice charms back in and his tail slides back to the floor; out of sight, out of mind.] What are you looking for?
no subject
[A bottle flips into his hand, his knuckles wrapping around the rather long cork. He pauses in the middle of it, a surprised sort of look gracing him. Until his teeth split his face wide open and a small hiss of laughter churns in his throat. Burning embers flick from his tongue and Greed tilts his head back, yanking the cork up and out in the process.] Ha - ! You're more informed than you look. That's pretty impressive - [The laughter simmers out, the cork pops. Into the open mouth of a trash barrel it goes, disappearing with a drop behind the bar.] - that's a shame, but I won't force you. Not interest if you aren't.
[Information, though. Greed snatches a glass by the lip, his claws skittering in the inside drop to draw a few lines. He pours out a healthy helping of something; red, thick. It spews in the glass and the smell is a souring sterile.] I can work something out, just depends on what you've got to offer. Nothing in this world is free, kid. [He pauses, letting the liquor pop and splash with a few wet smacks.] Equivalent exchange - [The same montage he's said before and Greed plugs the bottle with his thumb, sending it back to the depths of the bar. He gestures into the air for someone behind Killua, his index and middle beckoning in silence.] - information for information. Or something else, if it's worth it.
[A smokey hand wafts past the other, its fingers bony and exposed. The man is nothing more than a shell; his long black hair slowly pilfering off into shapeless, bruised-colored air. His white, pupil-less eyes roll in his sockets, briefly acknowledging Killua. Then the drink's gone and the stranger with it. Back to darker, quieter pastures.]
But you've come to the right place. [Greed's voice charms back in and his tail slides back to the floor; out of sight, out of mind.] What are you looking for?