>>avaricious has posted an AUDIO MESSAGE. If you wish to listen, type LISTEN05
[Oh, he knows. The temper a bull: one flick of red and it's all over. Not that he blame Dante for it, nor does he hold it against them. Stealing, he's reminded. And on his side of the receiver, on the other end of the line, a touch of heat. Light. Like beginnings of a house fire.]
[Bring it down though. Bring it down, down, down.]
[When he speaks again, his sultry expression is undeniable. Greed inhales sharply and two dull clicks follow.] His name's Li - a native. But don't let him fool you. He's not much different from the rest of us.
[Meaning just one thing: he's a criminal. A societal dreg. The Sin pauses.] He's been keeping himself low ever since Vandare. Tell him I sent you. I don't know how much he'll know, but it's a start.
[A beat. Even though there's no recording on Dante's end, it's hard not to imagine something's been broken in that short span of minutes. The legs of the Sin's chair squeal along the floor.] Oi, oi, oi - don't do anything brash. You'll lose it all that way.
[Which, Dante knows; he's always know that. But sometimes, it gets the better of him. The former homunculus lifts and his voice drifts away at a distance.] I'll see what we can do in the meantime.
<avaricious>
[Oh, he knows. The temper a bull: one flick of red and it's all over. Not that he blame Dante for it, nor does he hold it against them. Stealing, he's reminded. And on his side of the receiver, on the other end of the line, a touch of heat. Light. Like beginnings of a house fire.]
[Bring it down though. Bring it down, down, down.]
[When he speaks again, his sultry expression is undeniable. Greed inhales sharply and two dull clicks follow.] His name's Li - a native. But don't let him fool you. He's not much different from the rest of us.
[Meaning just one thing: he's a criminal. A societal dreg. The Sin pauses.] He's been keeping himself low ever since Vandare. Tell him I sent you. I don't know how much he'll know, but it's a start.
[A beat. Even though there's no recording on Dante's end, it's hard not to imagine something's been broken in that short span of minutes. The legs of the Sin's chair squeal along the floor.] Oi, oi, oi - don't do anything brash. You'll lose it all that way.
[Which, Dante knows; he's always know that. But sometimes, it gets the better of him. The former homunculus lifts and his voice drifts away at a distance.] I'll see what we can do in the meantime.