nestingdevil | (no subject)

Entry tags:

*contact,
*ryslig

(no subject)

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, avaricious. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 012.07.333.07 * avaricious has joined 018.07.154.55 <avaricious> ithsihoitiwrks ? <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- <avaricious>thdvllsnst <avaricious>** vdndrere

CONTACTS

0.0.0.0 ♦ "MASON" | Heather

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ STOCKE

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ AOBA

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ "JUSTINE"

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ KILLUA

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ ZOLF J. KIMBLEY

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ EDWARD ELRIC

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ "XANDER" | SANDRATH

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The cigarette's pulled away, comfortably nesting in the middle of his thick knuckles. It slow burns after that, clumps of ash forming and falling where the edge of the couch ends. Greed raises his eyebrow a bit at Killua's question, his mouth opening with a simple, "Ah-?" before he flutters his fingers, sending threads of smoke retreating.] You really think I'd tell you all that? You're sure asking a lot, friend.

[A snap sends his jaws shut and Greed leans over, forcing the cigarette into the half-full tray. It seers the bottom, drawing a line of blackening soot to replace a days worth of dust. His smile is chaste, his chin canted downwards with amusement.] Though that avarice of yours - pretty impressive. Fine then. I won't tell you everything, but the first thing I noticed was salt. Can be a pain sometimes and the people in Vandare use it from time to time. [Greed pulls his fingers away, leaving the crushed form of the smoke to lean crookedly vertical in the pile. Standing on its own, it looms over long-dead comrades.] It hurts and it doesn't heal. It also seems to stop me from getting into certain places. I don't know how that works, but I'm sure someone like you could figure it out.

[His head tilts to the left, yearning towards the curtain. A few footsteps sound outside the barrier and at the bottom edge of the fabric, a pair of clipped-heels trudge by.] In terms of abilities, there's at least one I can tell you about. [With one hand free, Greed pries open his claws. The center of his palm is black to the pitch, marked with thin-set scales that look like they've been put under heat for some time. His knuckles tighten and his fingers caress the air, starting from the pinkie and back again. The movement coaxing a small flame that grows and rises from the center of his hand. Stark, jagged arches of red gleam in his sunglasses as he does so, his expression that of lazy fascination.]

[Though, it couldn't be further from the truth.] I didn't have it before here - tends to comes in handy. [The fire flickers and his claws retract inwards. A snuff sends silvery wisps of blue smoke through the cracks of his fingers, the flame extinguished.]

[However, he does perk up with the other finally gives; his cheek rising from the resting point of his other hand and Greed whistles.] A gargoyle, huh? That's interesting - I haven't met one of those yet. [And truth be told, the curious tone in his voice is genuine. Despite meeting some, he hasn't seen every monster Ryslig had to offer.] Guess it comes with some sort of perk, right?

[Finally, he turns back to Killua - that same poisonous desire lingers on his expression, his upper lip dragging back with a toothy smile. There's a low noise somewhere close by and it seems to be coming from him. Not in his vocal chords, but deep, deep down. Grumbling like a bonfire in short range. Greed taps the table between them, scratching a soft line.]

Why don't you show me exactly what you can do. [It isn't a question.]

Salt? [He sounds dubious as Greed elaborated, if only because of all things to be weak to, why salt? Then again, it really wasn't any more or less pathetic than the amount of monsters who found sunlight a hindrance. Himself one day included. It's not that he was complaining, though. Salt was easy to get a hold of and if it could really ward his brother off, even better.

Once Greed has finished showing off his control over fire, Killua doesn't need to ask now to know that this meant Greed was fire-proof. It left a sinking and dreadful feeling his gut; one of his greatest assets was likely going to be useless against Illumi in the future.] There's a lot of us around. I know at least two others.

[There's a pause as he suddenly comes to realize what the chances of his brother becoming something else--something he's never even seen before--were. He may be completely wrong with his current guess.]

Does salt water count? I mean, towards your weakness. [He slips the question in before he bothers to address the command to show-off, silently lifting his own hand. The skin there starts to head up, nails glowing hot as fire begins to form and swirl at his palm. In a sudden and intentional burst of energy it expands and engulfs his hand, from the second knuckle of his fingers down, in a sizable fireball.] This is all I can do.

[His ankles lock loosely together under the table, making the dramatic jut of one of them smack deafening into the peg holding it upright. Greed leans back, or he tries to. The leather-like flaps of his wings fold inward, teeter, then stretch. Hoisting themselves to fan across his shoulders, extending outward like added appendages made for grabbing. For taking and stealing. It's almost an ironic sort of gesture, a crude poetry written in Ryslig's design.]

[Everything was and is his for the taking.] Wouldn't know. Not really interested in testing it out anyway. [The Sin lifts his head, abruptly choked off as Killua follows his two step with one of his own. Fire plumes in an outstretched palm, igniting his sunglasses like dull-coals raked back to life. Greed's smile is fierce and intrigued. The tip of his tongue rolls against the roof of his mouth and his own heat comes to the call. Glowing from the inside out, giving a brief look inside - like an x-ray marred in tar, his bones light up. A swallow cools him and with it, the show's over.] Oh-? Now that is something - [There's heavy want on his tongue, a sickly purr in his throat.]

[The fire's out, but not his need for more, more, more.] I'm sure that isn't all you can do, but you're not one to give it all away either. I like that attitude of yours. [The former homunculus props up his shoulder, nudging his head almost playfully to the side. One eye presses closed beneath his sunglasses, sending the opposing eyebrow rising sky-high.] So is this what you plan to do? Get information for information? There's a better deal, y'know.

[He slouches as he speaks, leaning comfortably in his seat. Owning the joint both physically and metaphorically - a king and his proverbial castle. Greed taps his finger dully against the leather, plucking a silver plug in the process.] I might not be so good, but I'm not so bad either. The mortal lot always has a problem with that - what's good, what's wrong. What's taboo. People tend to think greed is just for money and wealth, but that isn't all. [A pause.] Wanting a better life, protecting a loved one - [When he lifts his gaze to lock eyes with the other, the pulse of red is unmistakable. Like the devil staring back, the slits of his pupils are needle-sharp points of black. Highlighted by the ghastly glow, practically burning themselves in the backside of each lens.]

- and what's mine is just that. If I didn't take care of them, I wouldn't really be me. Consider it - [His words trail off with a shrug and Greed leans forward. His hands go to his pockets and his body rises out of the booth, looming over the table like some sort of terrible fable creeping in past midnight.] - your choice. Like I told you before, I'm not interested if you aren't.

This is all I can do as far as Gargoyle stuff goes. [Killua acknowledges Greed's suspicions, but doesn't clarify. Of course he can do more than that, but they were exchanging monster information right now. Nothing more and nothing less. He would offer up more if he needed to, but that need hasn't arrived just yet.]

Your idea of a better deal is trying to own me. [The words are cold again, his eyes narrowed.] Right? Well the only person I belong to is myself.

[Growing up in a family that wanted nothing more than to control him, to mold him into what they wanted, Killua won't allow himself to stoop that low. His entire being rejects it. He's here to stop his brother from trying to own him, so why the hell would he stumble out of one hell and into another? Maybe Greed isn't as bad as Killua thinks, but he can't help but be repulsed by the idea on principle.]

So unless you can accept that, then I guess this is all I plan to do. If I run out of information, I'll do favours, but I don't want your protection. [Unless Illumi puts his friends into danger, or backs him up into a corner--he's not going to budge.]

Edited 2015-03-29 18:26 (UTC)

[For a second, the Sin scoffs. His body goes stiff. Then, in a violent cracking of bones, his throws his head back wide. The laugh that comes out of him is as loud as it is putrid; tendrils of leftover smoke rise from his gullet and the noise booms inside the small enclosure - like a thunderstorm trapped in a bottle. He slaps his hand against the leather seat, issuing a crack similar to a dulled out whip.]

Ha - ! You've got it'll wrong. Of course, you'd be one of mine - but it isn't all like that. I don't plan to force you to do anything - [The Sin's throat gleams in rich, hellish fire. As he lowers his skull again, his smile alights with a brim of teeth.] - but no. The people who work here are mine, that's true. But don't mistake me for something I'm not, kid. Take it or leave it, your choice.

[He doesn't need to explain himself nor does he have the care to. Killua has his own opinions; his own line drawn in the sand. The former homunculus lets his lips part with a pursed expression.] Suit yourself. Information and favors will get you so far and I'm not about to say no. [The air cools, the heat simmering down deep in his chest. Greed taps his seat again, gingerly arching an eyebrow in Killua's direction.] But if you ever changed your mind, you already know how to find me.

[His ankles unlock, sending his thighs spreading wide. Greed places his palms against the leather running up each leg, then tips of his claws biting with a scratch.] Anything else, or is our business done here?

I'll leave it. [Killua stares at Greed with an unwavering and intense gaze as he speaks. Nothing Greed says is doing anything to change his mind, and Killua doesn't even bother to address it past his final dismissal.]

There's more. I still want to know the names of the people who made a deal with the fog god. Even if it's just a rumour. [Most of his high-profile concerns regarding demons were answered now. If Greed could summon fire than he was clearly resistant to it. That meant if Illumi was one of them, his own powers wouldn't be much of a threat for long.]

Edited 2015-03-31 01:40 (UTC)

[He taps his middle and index against the table, canting his head just slightly to show off his throat. His expression is pursed, one eyebrow sliding up with Killua's answer.] That's fair, I guess. Though, it's still a bit of a shame - [How he speaks is slippery; oily. Flitting off his tongue to flicker against the pronged tip. Greed rolls his wrist across the surface, spreading his palm wide.]

I'll tell you the names, but they aren't much. [And they'll all lead almost no where. Dead ends, corrupt word of mouth - rumors can pass so long before the real information's lost in the shuffle. Greed swings his leg over the other knee as he gestures outside of the booth. He's acknowledged with a silent nod - a man this time, his scowl lined deep in his face. A pen and napkin find themselves in the Sin's snaring grip and he jots down a few. The list is only about five names long and it's folded between his fingers and pressed to the table. One slide sends it Killua's way.]

Next time you're in Bavan, find someone named Mason. She's picking up some of my shipments. Bring them back here and consider it payment for this. [A lean to the right makes his matching wing spread. Slowly unfurling in a leathery sheen of black and the tips skate across the opposing wall; making a terrible shrill sound off the facing.]

Anything else you've got for me?

[Killua's quieter than before, just wanting to get what he wants and get out of here. He leans forward to grab the napkin, glancing at the names inside before he stuffs them into the pocket of his lengthy track shorts. They were already memorized, the gesture was pointless.]

Mason? Got it. [If Greed wasn't going to offer up their private channel or address off the bat, Killua assumed he either didn't know it, or he wanted him to figure it out on his own. Either way, he's found targets with less information.]

No, that's it. [He's gotten what he needed for today. Greed didn't get the privilege excess information--not when everything Killua held back was a potential bargaining chip.]

Edited 2015-04-07 16:12 (UTC)

Then I guess we're done here - [Though unlike Killua, Greed doesn't seem apt to move. Instead, his hand shoots up lazily beside his head and his claws unfurl, wafting through the air to chase away the thought. Lasting threads of smoke run and disappear between his knuckles, drifting aimlessly out into the hallway.] - though I doubt this is the last time we'll see each other, hmn?

[The Sin clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, sending the forks rattling. He watches the other leave with mild interest and his temple slouches against the knuckles of his other hand. He shrugs when Killua's finally gone and a soft flick of a match sparks. Something clacks against the surface of the table.]

[Despite everything, the kid hadn't been a waste of time in the slightest.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only