>>avaricious has posted an AUDIO MESSAGE. If you wish to listen, type LISTEN07
No, a little better than that, aren't you? [Not that he can entirely blame him. Death might be a fleeting thing in Ryslig, but that doesn't mean much. Greed touches the edge of the device again. The tips of his claws roll forward - their tune a light pat-pat-pat like the touch of a testing spider. No, even one is one too many and as his lips peel back, something wet answers on the edge of his mouth. Something hot, something putrid, and oh, oh.]
[Does something wicked this way come.]
Don't make it too messy. Better to get the information first. Whoever he is, it looks like he owes us a favor. [A favor meaning what? He doesn't say.]
[A long pause follows on his side of the line. The sound of moving leather, muffled fur, and the dull click, click, click of his heels says he's on the move. Where, for what, is anyone's guess.] Guns, huh. Eh- [The Sin's voice curls along the receiver's edge. A little further now, but not entirely out of reach.] I'll see if he's got anything. Tell him you work for me and he might not be such a pissant about it.
[That said, he gives the laptop a final squeeze. Nail to nail, he meets the plastic head on - causing it to whine and buckle under his hard-fast grip. To say the feeling is mutual is an understatement.]
[And if Dante's going on the hunt, it won't be long until he has some unsavory company.]
<avaricious>
No, a little better than that, aren't you? [Not that he can entirely blame him. Death might be a fleeting thing in Ryslig, but that doesn't mean much. Greed touches the edge of the device again. The tips of his claws roll forward - their tune a light pat-pat-pat like the touch of a testing spider. No, even one is one too many and as his lips peel back, something wet answers on the edge of his mouth. Something hot, something putrid, and oh, oh.]
[Does something wicked this way come.]
Don't make it too messy. Better to get the information first. Whoever he is, it looks like he owes us a favor. [A favor meaning what? He doesn't say.]
[A long pause follows on his side of the line. The sound of moving leather, muffled fur, and the dull click, click, click of his heels says he's on the move. Where, for what, is anyone's guess.] Guns, huh. Eh- [The Sin's voice curls along the receiver's edge. A little further now, but not entirely out of reach.] I'll see if he's got anything. Tell him you work for me and he might not be such a pissant about it.
[That said, he gives the laptop a final squeeze. Nail to nail, he meets the plastic head on - causing it to whine and buckle under his hard-fast grip. To say the feeling is mutual is an understatement.]
[And if Dante's going on the hunt, it won't be long until he has some unsavory company.]