[Under the smokey overhang, the Sin's eyes wheeze open. They're red, blurry; a duel set a'glow like brake lights on baked, desert concrete. He doesn't bother waving Dante over. The Minotaur has a way of forcing himself into the situation whether invited or not. To bother would be a waste of time, a listless effort.]
[Besides, this is something they both have an interest in. And oh yes, he's heard the news.]
[Greed lines his index up to the side his thigh. He taps it once, the feel of his claw on leather as artificial as he is. All the while, Dante's words pass by in a drift: "...the doctors over at the labs .. ""-way to get rid of-". They mingle in a blur and it's his own avarice that picks out what it wants. Not the who, not the what, but the solution. A flicker passes by the devil's face: a chip in his armor that's almost violent. That's almost wrat-]
[The Sin's jaw cracks, exposing his teeth in a sidewinder's smile.] That so. [Without his vest, the tattoo kissed into the side of his neck vibrates in blue. He touches it mindlessly; a distant thought or two floating between his viper-slit glance. Greed waves them away not a second later; two fingers hurriedly twiddling in the dark.]
[The issue with the parasites has just been one more thorn in his side and as time passed, as the days drew out to months, the scratch had grown infected. Toxic. Enough to bring his core screaming in protest; a terrible back-fire against its host. Though really, he's just one in the same.]
[Avarice incarnate, sin in the flesh. And Lord have fucking mercy - ]
[Greed saunters across the room. He pauses by the dresser at the back, his nails playing with one of the drawers.] Who's doing the operations? There are some 'docs in town that're reliable. But I don't think I have to tell you that some will have another agenda. [He turns his head upward, effectively meeting Dante in the mirror. He waits for a second. Even with all his selfishness, he knows there's more than just Stocke on the line. Greed lifts his shoulders and with a sink, he pulls himself from the reflection.]
no subject
[Besides, this is something they both have an interest in. And oh yes, he's heard the news.]
[Greed lines his index up to the side his thigh. He taps it once, the feel of his claw on leather as artificial as he is. All the while, Dante's words pass by in a drift: "...the doctors over at the labs .. " "-way to get rid of-". They mingle in a blur and it's his own avarice that picks out what it wants. Not the who, not the what, but the solution. A flicker passes by the devil's face: a chip in his armor that's almost violent. That's almost wrat-]
[The Sin's jaw cracks, exposing his teeth in a sidewinder's smile.] That so. [Without his vest, the tattoo kissed into the side of his neck vibrates in blue. He touches it mindlessly; a distant thought or two floating between his viper-slit glance. Greed waves them away not a second later; two fingers hurriedly twiddling in the dark.]
[The issue with the parasites has just been one more thorn in his side and as time passed, as the days drew out to months, the scratch had grown infected. Toxic. Enough to bring his core screaming in protest; a terrible back-fire against its host. Though really, he's just one in the same.]
[Avarice incarnate, sin in the flesh. And Lord have fucking mercy - ]
[Greed saunters across the room. He pauses by the dresser at the back, his nails playing with one of the drawers.] Who's doing the operations? There are some 'docs in town that're reliable. But I don't think I have to tell you that some will have another agenda. [He turns his head upward, effectively meeting Dante in the mirror. He waits for a second. Even with all his selfishness, he knows there's more than just Stocke on the line. Greed lifts his shoulders and with a sink, he pulls himself from the reflection.]
She's there, isn't she.