[And doesn't he have it all right. Greed's skull lowers a tad more as Light goes on, his grin pursing into a drawn-out strike. It rides and twists along the strong of his jaw; like that of a criminal on the edge of a big score. To say he's attentive is an understatement - the Sin's eerily still. Only his tail gives him away; its constant swoops and turns sketching loose figure eights at a bar-crawl's pace.]
Oh-? No, you aren't wrong. Things being as they are, it was really only a matter of time. Our friends just think they have the right idea.
[Because violence is always paid back: equivalent exchange at its finest. Blood for blood, murder for murder. He's seen it time and time again and the result? Is always the same. There's never a winner, not really. And when there is, the moment is brief and temporary. Before everything goes back to the same old, same old and oh, doesn't history love the repetitive.]
[Greed's tongue snaps inside his jaw, sparking a fire as impulsive as a quick-draw match.] A lot of stories, huh? [The former homunuclus digs his heel in, allowing the curve of his boot to swing through the air in a knife-cut strike. The ribbons of smoke at his ankles quickly disperse, then. Their trails finally thinning to reveal the cobblestone below.] Gotta admit, I like your honesty. I'm not interested in making this any messier than it has to be. But the others in Bavan seem to have made their decision. [The more he talks, the hotter it gets. The bob in his throat stretches outward - turning the veins along his neck a thick, gold-smelter yellow. He still has that bridge to cross. A long, barely-tethered road that could collapse at any second. But for now, it's only him and his and as Greed chases a look over Light's shoulder, his attention briefly catches on the arch of a prowling feline.]
You're pretty informed for a kid. [An air of distraction hangs in his voice; like someone who's both a million miles away and still lingering in the here and now. A metaphorical limbo. He lets his eyes sink shut and from beneath the curves of his shades, his eyebrows furrow into one another. Creating a ripple effect up to the base of his horns.] But if you think everyone's as reasonable as you, you've got another thing comin'.
[Because just north of here, a military coup is brewing. The Sin himself hasn't met them face to face, but word of mouth is enough to paint a picture. Ruthless, tactical. An armed forced beating to a singular drum. He flattens his foot again and the endless smog reclaims its turf; blanketing the cobblestone below like silt disturbed in a dark, bottomless pond.] Ha - ! Don't get the wrong idea. If you think I'll let them or anyone else take Vandare, I'm sorry. My avarice runs a little too deep for that.
[When he turns back to Light again, those eyes of his peer at the top of his sunglasses. They're muted now; in a ghastly kind of purple(ing)-red more suitable for a back lit bruise.] I'm sure you already know that anyone associated with the Bloody Bones won't make it. It'll be a problem, but most of the monsters here have tried to reason with them in the past. Unfortunately, they're not exactly so giving. [Whether to make a point or sheer force of habit, he strikes his thumb along the edge of his throat. Scales meet scales in a terrible scrrch and thin, fresh-silver smoke wafts out. No, he's had his own run in(s) with the 'Bones and the like twice now.]
[He isn't keen on a repeat.] It's their choice, in the end. I've always been a fan of that. But if they decide to continue, I'm sure I don't have to tell you how it ends. When it comes to the rest of the people here though, they're off limits. I don't care what they think up in Bavan - that's my deal.
no subject
Oh-? No, you aren't wrong. Things being as they are, it was really only a matter of time. Our friends just think they have the right idea.
[Because violence is always paid back: equivalent exchange at its finest. Blood for blood, murder for murder. He's seen it time and time again and the result? Is always the same. There's never a winner, not really. And when there is, the moment is brief and temporary. Before everything goes back to the same old, same old and oh, doesn't history love the repetitive.]
[Greed's tongue snaps inside his jaw, sparking a fire as impulsive as a quick-draw match.] A lot of stories, huh? [The former homunuclus digs his heel in, allowing the curve of his boot to swing through the air in a knife-cut strike. The ribbons of smoke at his ankles quickly disperse, then. Their trails finally thinning to reveal the cobblestone below.] Gotta admit, I like your honesty. I'm not interested in making this any messier than it has to be. But the others in Bavan seem to have made their decision. [The more he talks, the hotter it gets. The bob in his throat stretches outward - turning the veins along his neck a thick, gold-smelter yellow. He still has that bridge to cross. A long, barely-tethered road that could collapse at any second. But for now, it's only him and his and as Greed chases a look over Light's shoulder, his attention briefly catches on the arch of a prowling feline.]
You're pretty informed for a kid. [An air of distraction hangs in his voice; like someone who's both a million miles away and still lingering in the here and now. A metaphorical limbo. He lets his eyes sink shut and from beneath the curves of his shades, his eyebrows furrow into one another. Creating a ripple effect up to the base of his horns.] But if you think everyone's as reasonable as you, you've got another thing comin'.
[Because just north of here, a military coup is brewing. The Sin himself hasn't met them face to face, but word of mouth is enough to paint a picture. Ruthless, tactical. An armed forced beating to a singular drum. He flattens his foot again and the endless smog reclaims its turf; blanketing the cobblestone below like silt disturbed in a dark, bottomless pond.] Ha - ! Don't get the wrong idea. If you think I'll let them or anyone else take Vandare, I'm sorry. My avarice runs a little too deep for that.
[When he turns back to Light again, those eyes of his peer at the top of his sunglasses. They're muted now; in a ghastly kind of purple(ing)-red more suitable for a back lit bruise.] I'm sure you already know that anyone associated with the Bloody Bones won't make it. It'll be a problem, but most of the monsters here have tried to reason with them in the past. Unfortunately, they're not exactly so giving. [Whether to make a point or sheer force of habit, he strikes his thumb along the edge of his throat. Scales meet scales in a terrible scrrch and thin, fresh-silver smoke wafts out. No, he's had his own run in(s) with the 'Bones and the like twice now.]
[He isn't keen on a repeat.] It's their choice, in the end. I've always been a fan of that. But if they decide to continue, I'm sure I don't have to tell you how it ends. When it comes to the rest of the people here though, they're off limits. I don't care what they think up in Bavan - that's my deal.