nestingdevil | (no subject)

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0.0.0.0 ♦ "MASON" | Heather

TEXT ABOUT THEM GOES HERE.

0.0.0.0 ♦ STOCKE

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0.0.0.0 ♦ AOBA

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0.0.0.0 ♦ "JUSTINE"

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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.

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[Greed's lips purse in a strange fascination; one that mixes with a kind of put-upon stare. A shy breath of a whistle slides through his teeth, shrilling when it meets the jagged, uneven edges.] Oh-? Kind of a demanding little pissant, aren't ya? [His expression simmers behind his sunglasses; as he recoils his forked tongue inward, dragging the smoldering tip back inside his jaws. A low grumble holds in his throat, the tone lightly pleased despite the circumstance.] Even if I did - that's asking a lot, don't you think? Nothing in this world comes free, friend.

[The heavy barb of his tail wanders idly behind him - an appendage without direction. It tells of his mannerisms; of a constant nonchalance and a perked curiosity. The metal adornments trill and tremble as it moves. Chiming ever-so-softly under the less-chaotic bar noise.]

Your brother, huh? So it's a little more personal. [The former homunculus spins the cap to another bottle with a flick. It takes the grooves on its own after that. Riding them out until it finds the last rung, sealing the contents for the time being. Greed's shoulders slump upwards, his movement molasses-slow and thick. One claws hooks into an abandoned ashtray and the tip of it clacks dully against porcelain inside.]

Depends on what you really want to know and what you've got in return. [He plucks a half-smoked butt from the pile, gently cleaning away ash and soot with the backside of his talon.]

Though, I'm sure we could work something out.

[His eyes narrow into an indignant glare, because he actually has no idea what the word "pissant" means, but it doesn't sound like a compliment. If it weren't for the fact he was trying to negotiate here, he'd probably call Greed out on it--maybe. The guy's still intimidating, but as the older man goes on Killua's beginning to feel impatient.]

I already told you I'm willing to work for it. [Greed may not be brushing him off, but he's still talking to him like he's some naive child who's expecting the answers to just be handed to him. Killua's not here to play around, despite the casual entrance, and he makes that known through the tone of his voice and the iciness of his leer; no longer indignant or childish. It's truly a look that could kill a lesser man, and a look that far too many people saw before Killua did just that.]

So just name your price. I want to know everything you're willing to tell me about Demons, and I want to know the names of the people who made a deal with the fog god. Got it?

[It's a familiar tune that he's had to dance to on more than one occasion. Greed's smile quips up with Killua's tenacity, his mouth pursing slightly. It isn't in surprise as much as it's intrigue. While manners are a bit lacking, there's no denying that the kid did have a spine on him.]

[An admirable trait.] Yeah, you did. But you already told me you're not interested in working for me. [Greed's voice muffles as he shoves the end of the cigarette into his mouth, letting his horrible daggers fan out across the end. The butt threatens to thread under the pressure, but when he leans into a burning candle nearby, the integrity doesn't matter. A cherry births from the tip and paper coils backwards; eaten alive in silvery wafts of smoke. Greed's smile eases, then he stills.]

[And finally, the can of worms pops open with three, simple words: "...name your price."]

[His lips pull tight, his shoulders stiffen. Oh, if that's not just the worst thing. Tempting to the tempter and the former homunculus' laugh leaks out on the thread-work of an exhale.] Ha - ! You really think you can deliver something like that? Fine then, but remember - a deal's a deal. [Greed's knuckles wrap around the cigarette, prying it wildly from his jaws in a string of blue-ing orange. He taps the side of it, sending a bit of white ash to the floor.] If you can gather information, bring it back here first. Anything of interest - fog god, whatever's going on in town. I want to know about it. I imagine that'll be pretty easy for you.

[While his gaze is still hidden behind his sunglasses, the smoldering red doubles. Showing the ever-expanding slits of his eyes that glow like brimstone to match. They tremble with want as they try to decide whether to expand or retract.] And I'll tell you everything you want to know about demons. The people who made the deal, though - [That's not so common knowledge. Nor does has he confirmed anything.] - I don't know if it's all true, so it's not really worth the time tracking down a dead lead.

[Greed tosses his head to the side, calling someone over. From the back of the bar, nestled deep in one of the couches, another woman slides to attention. Her long dress whispers at her ankles, the silk of it moving in time with her equally-slippery stride. The demon leaves the head of the bar, switching hands with her silently.] Figured we could do this elsewhere. C'mon.

[And with that, Greed heads down one of the hallways. Whatever the bar used to be, it goes off in all sorts of directions. There's a floor above, doors on the right. Other hallways that lead into deep pitches of dark.]

[And everywhere, it seems there's someone or something lingering nearby.]

I said I wasn't interested in working here, but that's not this. [This is an informal exchange of services, and a way to keep Greed from thinking he owns him. Killua didn't want to commit to one job anyway, but more than that he hated feeling controlled, like someone else was making his choices for him. It reminded him far too much of his family, his brother and mother especially.

At any rate, he's prepared himself for whatever Greed may ask of him. A simple exchange of information seems basic enough.] I'll tell you everything I already know.

[It's of no consequence to him if Greed knows what information he's found out through the network and through his own experiences. Even less so if it gives him a chance to learn his brother's weaknesses and what he'll be capable of in the future. He still plans on squeezing out what he can on the deal regarding the fog god too, but for now he lets it drop.] And anything I find out, as long as you do the same.

[Killua follows Greed through the back of the bar, eyes surveying his surroundings and nearby monsters. It's like climbing into a nest of ants. They seem endless, and Killua folds his wings in close to his body on the off chance anyone decides to try and grab them.

It doesn't bode well for him to be this outnumbered, so he'll be cautious about entering any closed rooms.]

Edited 2015-03-17 20:14 (UTC)

Equivalent exchange then. Sounds fair. [His hand waves at his side and the leather bands on his wrist jump and jangle. Constantly in motion, yet casual. Greed passes by one of the doors, one latched shut with a complex line of locks and bolts that run straight up across the side. For a moment he pauses there, the tips of his claws hovering over the set. He shrugs not too soon afterward, silently deciding it against it.] And simple enough. As long as you live up to your end of the bargain.

[Instead of the usual, Greed leads Killua into one of the vacant booths out back. It's sealed with a simple curtain and draw, the fabric moving aside with a push of his wrist. Center is a table, its candle left unlit with a mounting ashtray nearby. He takes a seat opposite the other, one arm throwing itself against the back-frame of the booth.] So what is it you want to know, exactly? [Greed chimes in, his head tilting back to expose his throat. One heel slides over the other knee, causing the swing of his pointed-tip boot to cant in vertical slant. He's at ease, almost too much so.]

[A king and his proverbial castle.]

[The barb of his tail swings out to the side, slicing the cord to the curtain once Killua slips in. The fabric falls with a heavy whoosh, effectively sealing them off from prying eyes. It's a transaction; a business deal that's entirely his. The Sin's claws dribble off the side of their perch, the tips grazing against well-worn red leather.] I can show you what I know, but remember: information for information. [The color in his throat changes. From a terrible red, to a more soothing gold. Temptation in its finest form.]

[He produces a familiar pack of matches, the grinning devil smeared on the top a mark for the making. One claw pushes against the butt-end, sending the slip open and he gingerly clips a single match with the curved-dip of a talon. One strike against the side of his thigh brings it to life, igniting both the candle front and center and a cigarette from the ashtray.] There's a little more to being a demon than being a homunculus - [Smoke accents his every word, pluming in a noxious cloud that hangs near his teeth. Whether that first admission is a free-be or not, it's hard to tell.]

[That is, until:] - first thing's first though. What are you, hmn? [Despite the hollowed look coming from his sunglasses, the faint light pulls at the lenses. Revealing hooded eyes that thin out with a sinister touch.]

Yeah, yeah. I get it. [Keep his end of the bargain or else, typical shady business. Killua used to kill people for a living, he knows how this goes and he's always been good for his word.

When they come to the complexly locked door he was prepared to protest, but luckily Greed kept going and took them somewhere else, where he felt relatively safe entering. Worst comes to worst, he can easily just get up and leave; a curtain wasn't going to stop him.

So stepping inside, he takes a casual seat across from Greed, his wings spread to accommodate the back of the chair without sacrificing too much seat space. Greed's cigarette earns a wrinkled nose, because in close quarters the smell's intrusive, but Killua doesn't make mention of it. Likewise, he wants to ask just what a homunculus is, but that would mean having to offer up information for it. He'll just ask Kurapika later.] I want to know about the kind of powers Demons get and if there's anything they're weak or resistant to.

[He'll just come out with it now; there should be no reason for Greed to hesitate if this was an "even exchange", right? Besides, it was for his brother. He just never said how.] And I'm a Gargoyle, but I'm not fully transformed yet so I probably don't know everything.

Edited 2015-03-22 14:51 (UTC)

[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.]

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