[But for how much Mello is encroaching, the Sin returns the favor tenfold. His chest dips when the other crawls along his glass; his exposed neck open and wide as M slinks through every single one of his words like a firing-squad, lined up and packed with plenty of ammo. And he has enough to spare, doesn't he? Each one of his questions, digging further to the truth. To see the heart of it all, beat for beat.]
[However, even so, there's that little thing he's forgot. A little detail he's missed. Because while Mello may be his, while he may belong?]
[Nothing, truly, comes free.]
[The former homunculus scuffs the lip of his glass with his finger. The smear he leaves is oiled and grainy; the taste like that of charcoal coughed up and spat out from the mouth of a lead pipe. He gives his teeth a playful click. A porcelain chime.] Pretty persistent, aren't you. [Greed rolls his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It follows the arch of his gums, traces the grooves; his smooth talk as subtle and brazen as a lover-for-hire trying to raise the stakes. This town: it's just the start of his empire, isn't it? His very making binding him, choking him, and only the cure is more, God, more, more, more, more - ]
[Greed's expression bristles and as the forks of his tongue lap away, the spark they leave pops off in cheek; forcing the skin to hum from the inside out like that of a negative, thrown up for inspection. He pats the side of his glass.] Oh, don't I wish I was immortal - I may be built a bit tougher, but that doesn't mean I haven't died before. And taking from them - [The Sin pucker his mouth; his smile, now an appreciative purse.] - I don't care what anyone else does. Human, monster, something else. That'll be their choice. I did tell you, didn't I? I'm not a good guy, M. But forcing someone to do something they're not interested in - I wouldn't really be me, now, would I.
[It isn't a question. Mello isn't new to this. He's heard the song, seen the dance. Listened to the same rhythm, over and over, knowing that they would end up in the same place that they started. The former homunculus dips his chin and as the flats of his boots brush the floor, he begins to tighten his coil. The hold of his claws loosens, then drops - the glass and whatever's left all but given to the other without a word.]
[Greed pops two of his fingers into his mouth and with a brisk flick, he cleans the brim.] Everything's mine, friend. Now, later. [While he talks, the Sin's eyes dreamily drift. A hint of smoke teases in front of his face. Like a thin veil, it blurs his colors. Brightens his glow. The gassy fume carving him out and sinking in as jagged as neon paint, calling from an alleyway. No, he's not like the rest of them. And in the end, oh in the end - ]
[The Sin abruptly pulls himself away. A shred of soot chases him while he goes - its fingers trying, almost desperately, to weave their way along Mello's collar.] My turn. [His back to Mello, the former homunculus stretches out his hand. He makes a pile along the edge of his dresser: his sunglasses, his vest, a clip of keys, and a couple of loose coins tossed aside in a mound more suitable to a bachelor's uncaring collection. One of his claws traps a stray piece of copper and as his nail pins in, Greed slumps into his back.] That ambition of yours - you didn't get to finish everything you started, did you?
[The surface of the coin brightens. Slowly, the stray-orange copper starts to fade away. It warps and peels. Reddens and simmers. The shade of it, an electric grill, cooking, cooking, cooking. Greed lifts his talon away and when it breaks, the hole left is black and smokey. A bullet's exit wound, leaving behind a reminder. Mello isn't the only one in the 'Nest who's life was cut short.]
[Which -]
Even if you don't stay here, the possibilities are endless. There are other worlds out there, after all. [He pauses. At the corner of his jaw, a thin snuff of smoke twirls about his head. It delicately tangles in his horns - a touch soft, loose, and oh, oh, oh.]
[The Sin pats his foot and immediately, the halo around him drops.] You asked if I'd wait for someone else to try to take over, but that's not how it works. [Greed pinches the coin, lifting it into his palm.] What's mine is just that and my offer always stands. You, the others, and everyone else. It'll be your choice. A one time deal -
[After all, doors take a bit of effort to open, don't they? A key, something else, and if there ever was a payment to be had - ]
[Dnk, and his heel snaps back along the floor.] Think that's enough for now. If you want to stay, feel free - [Greed shoves his hands back into his pockets - his slight cant, chiding and sarcastic.] - you can have the rest of that, if you need it. [He motions to the bottle lazily with his elbow. A second goes by, another.] Unless you need anything else?
[Because, really, sin can only give so much. He's built in selfishness. Molded by desire. A serpent made, constantly and forever chasing its own tail.]
no subject
[However, even so, there's that little thing he's forgot. A little detail he's missed. Because while Mello may be his, while he may belong?]
[Nothing, truly, comes free.]
[The former homunculus scuffs the lip of his glass with his finger. The smear he leaves is oiled and grainy; the taste like that of charcoal coughed up and spat out from the mouth of a lead pipe. He gives his teeth a playful click. A porcelain chime.] Pretty persistent, aren't you. [Greed rolls his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It follows the arch of his gums, traces the grooves; his smooth talk as subtle and brazen as a lover-for-hire trying to raise the stakes. This town: it's just the start of his empire, isn't it? His very making binding him, choking him, and only the cure is more, God, more, more, more, more - ]
[Greed's expression bristles and as the forks of his tongue lap away, the spark they leave pops off in cheek; forcing the skin to hum from the inside out like that of a negative, thrown up for inspection. He pats the side of his glass.] Oh, don't I wish I was immortal - I may be built a bit tougher, but that doesn't mean I haven't died before. And taking from them - [The Sin pucker his mouth; his smile, now an appreciative purse.] - I don't care what anyone else does. Human, monster, something else. That'll be their choice. I did tell you, didn't I? I'm not a good guy, M. But forcing someone to do something they're not interested in - I wouldn't really be me, now, would I.
[It isn't a question. Mello isn't new to this. He's heard the song, seen the dance. Listened to the same rhythm, over and over, knowing that they would end up in the same place that they started. The former homunculus dips his chin and as the flats of his boots brush the floor, he begins to tighten his coil. The hold of his claws loosens, then drops - the glass and whatever's left all but given to the other without a word.]
[Greed pops two of his fingers into his mouth and with a brisk flick, he cleans the brim.] Everything's mine, friend. Now, later. [While he talks, the Sin's eyes dreamily drift. A hint of smoke teases in front of his face. Like a thin veil, it blurs his colors. Brightens his glow. The gassy fume carving him out and sinking in as jagged as neon paint, calling from an alleyway. No, he's not like the rest of them. And in the end, oh in the end - ]
[The Sin abruptly pulls himself away. A shred of soot chases him while he goes - its fingers trying, almost desperately, to weave their way along Mello's collar.] My turn. [His back to Mello, the former homunculus stretches out his hand. He makes a pile along the edge of his dresser: his sunglasses, his vest, a clip of keys, and a couple of loose coins tossed aside in a mound more suitable to a bachelor's uncaring collection. One of his claws traps a stray piece of copper and as his nail pins in, Greed slumps into his back.] That ambition of yours - you didn't get to finish everything you started, did you?
[The surface of the coin brightens. Slowly, the stray-orange copper starts to fade away. It warps and peels. Reddens and simmers. The shade of it, an electric grill, cooking, cooking, cooking. Greed lifts his talon away and when it breaks, the hole left is black and smokey. A bullet's exit wound, leaving behind a reminder. Mello isn't the only one in the 'Nest who's life was cut short.]
[Which -]
Even if you don't stay here, the possibilities are endless. There are other worlds out there, after all. [He pauses. At the corner of his jaw, a thin snuff of smoke twirls about his head. It delicately tangles in his horns - a touch soft, loose, and oh, oh, oh.]
[The Sin pats his foot and immediately, the halo around him drops.] You asked if I'd wait for someone else to try to take over, but that's not how it works. [Greed pinches the coin, lifting it into his palm.] What's mine is just that and my offer always stands. You, the others, and everyone else. It'll be your choice. A one time deal -
[After all, doors take a bit of effort to open, don't they? A key, something else, and if there ever was a payment to be had - ]
[Dnk, and his heel snaps back along the floor.] Think that's enough for now. If you want to stay, feel free - [Greed shoves his hands back into his pockets - his slight cant, chiding and sarcastic.] - you can have the rest of that, if you need it. [He motions to the bottle lazily with his elbow. A second goes by, another.] Unless you need anything else?
[Because, really, sin can only give so much. He's built in selfishness. Molded by desire. A serpent made, constantly and forever chasing its own tail.]