That's what they say. Not exactly something I was interested in anyway. [The cigarette gets tapped again, his index extending to rap-rap-rap against the side. Fresh fire crackles with the exit of ash, digging itself further into what remains of the cigarette.] It's pretty inconvenient, but I guess that's not the case for most.
[His shoulder and back sag, allowing him to retreat from the face of the bar again. His tailbone anchors to the prep-station behind him and Greed stretches out his legs, letting them hang loosely together by the ankles. The cigarette gets one last drag in the aftermath, the smoke charring down his throat as he idly pinches the hot tip. The scales on his finger pads spit, smoke plumes. Then it's dead again, the useless butt snapped away with a flick of his pointer. It sails into some dark corner of the bar, out of sight and mind entirely.]
Tomorrow night? Sounds fine. Just make sure you're here before it gets too busy - [The Sin latches both thumbs through the loops of his leather slacks, his head tilting back in "Justine's" direction. The look on his face is coy and sly - the devil ready to present his best fiddle. At his side, his tail lulls curiously at the floor. Swishing across the thick boards of wood.] Take care of what you need to. Like I said before, I don't really care what you do otherwise. We tend to have more later in the evening. Midnight's usually pretty busy.
[Greed slowly lifts his bones from the shelf behind him, twisting his head over his shoulder at movement deeper inside. He caresses the roof of his mouth with a jarring sneer, a Cheshire's look in an onslaught of teeth.] Don't think I have to show you out, hmn? [A blare of red slides behind his sunglasses, crawling drearily through the lenses.]
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[His shoulder and back sag, allowing him to retreat from the face of the bar again. His tailbone anchors to the prep-station behind him and Greed stretches out his legs, letting them hang loosely together by the ankles. The cigarette gets one last drag in the aftermath, the smoke charring down his throat as he idly pinches the hot tip. The scales on his finger pads spit, smoke plumes. Then it's dead again, the useless butt snapped away with a flick of his pointer. It sails into some dark corner of the bar, out of sight and mind entirely.]
Tomorrow night? Sounds fine. Just make sure you're here before it gets too busy - [The Sin latches both thumbs through the loops of his leather slacks, his head tilting back in "Justine's" direction. The look on his face is coy and sly - the devil ready to present his best fiddle. At his side, his tail lulls curiously at the floor. Swishing across the thick boards of wood.] Take care of what you need to. Like I said before, I don't really care what you do otherwise. We tend to have more later in the evening. Midnight's usually pretty busy.
[Greed slowly lifts his bones from the shelf behind him, twisting his head over his shoulder at movement deeper inside. He caresses the roof of his mouth with a jarring sneer, a Cheshire's look in an onslaught of teeth.] Don't think I have to show you out, hmn? [A blare of red slides behind his sunglasses, crawling drearily through the lenses.]