[Stocke waits, unblinking and unflinching. Through the crackle of glass under the Sin's boots, and the press of fire's heat, so tangible it's nearly a wall - he doesn't step away, but nor does he step closer.]
['I really wish I could believe you,' and he dips his head, eyes falling shut. His tendrils curl to a halt, but - no, this way's for the better. He's deathly still, bracing himself.]
[Whatever he's expecting, it's not that word.]
[The shade's head snaps up, expression subtly between startled and confused - he doesn't know what happened in his own head, that time the Fourth God cracked everyone's open. He feels like he should recognize it, and yet -]
[Then he winces, one hand - shards of glass and all - rising to the side of his head. There's a flicker of shadow-black over all of his skin, even that which was shapeshifted to look human, as something clicks. (Something very like a key.)]
[...Stocke is getting really tired of having his head messed with today. Though this version's vastly preferable to the other one; he can feel Greed shook something loose, but it's still better than the Hyde. Bubbling deep underneath, his resignation's burning into anger - he wants to hunt down Dante, hunt down the lab that started all this, most of all hunt down the Hyde he can't reach because it's inside him -]
[- but he owes the boss first, yeah?]
[Absently, the shade shakes off his solid, human form, rising into the air. Glass splinters and shards drop from his hands, suddenly nothing for them to grip; Stocke lifts hands in front of him again, four eyes narrowing at the streams of smoke-blood flowing up. He extends an over-long white tongue, running it over the cuts to seal them shut.]
Hey, boss. Good to see you again. [Again? Why again? Stocke can't tell without the memories of his dreamscape, but it feels right to say. Either way, his voice now's more static than not.] Not sure if this'll take care of - [Telekinesis stirs the remnants of the syringe below. That. Still, the shade half-grins as he cuts off, jagged. That's fine. If this... looseness is what it takes Greed to trust that it's him, he can live with that - they'll screw his Hyde over, figure out some way to get him to stick monster, and then -]
[...then, why doesn't he stay this way? It's a lot better than Stocke usually feels.]
[The shade's hovering with his face above the Sin's eye level right now - he folds forward to match it, claws dangling lazily. For some reason, his gaze follows Greed's earring for a moment before returning to the Sin's face.]
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['I really wish I could believe you,' and he dips his head, eyes falling shut. His tendrils curl to a halt, but - no, this way's for the better. He's deathly still, bracing himself.]
[Whatever he's expecting, it's not that word.]
[The shade's head snaps up, expression subtly between startled and confused - he doesn't know what happened in his own head, that time the Fourth God cracked everyone's open. He feels like he should recognize it, and yet -]
[Then he winces, one hand - shards of glass and all - rising to the side of his head. There's a flicker of shadow-black over all of his skin, even that which was shapeshifted to look human, as something clicks. (Something very like a key.)]
[...Stocke is getting really tired of having his head messed with today. Though this version's vastly preferable to the other one; he can feel Greed shook something loose, but it's still better than the Hyde. Bubbling deep underneath, his resignation's burning into anger - he wants to hunt down Dante, hunt down the lab that started all this, most of all hunt down the Hyde he can't reach because it's inside him -]
[- but he owes the boss first, yeah?]
[Absently, the shade shakes off his solid, human form, rising into the air. Glass splinters and shards drop from his hands, suddenly nothing for them to grip; Stocke lifts hands in front of him again, four eyes narrowing at the streams of smoke-blood flowing up. He extends an over-long white tongue, running it over the cuts to seal them shut.]
Hey, boss. Good to see you again. [Again? Why again? Stocke can't tell without the memories of his dreamscape, but it feels right to say. Either way, his voice now's more static than not.] Not sure if this'll take care of - [Telekinesis stirs the remnants of the syringe below. That. Still, the shade half-grins as he cuts off, jagged. That's fine. If this... looseness is what it takes Greed to trust that it's him, he can live with that - they'll screw his Hyde over, figure out some way to get him to stick monster, and then -]
[...then, why doesn't he stay this way? It's a lot better than Stocke usually feels.]
[The shade's hovering with his face above the Sin's eye level right now - he folds forward to match it, claws dangling lazily. For some reason, his gaze follows Greed's earring for a moment before returning to the Sin's face.]