the name's greed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nestingdevil) wrote2014-11-10 09:21 pm
nestingdevil) wrote2014-11-10 09:21 pm
(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.
<Mello>
No.
Did what I was supposed to do. Got held up by something. Need to know if things have settled down over there at all before I come back. I won't be leaving again.
[Font a while, at least.]
<avaricious>
back doorss open whenrbber youre done btt com e see me firs t
<Mello>
Figured you'd catch on to that by now.
Not blaming anyone for anything. I'm asking you if the humans are starting shit because of what happened. Whether I show up now or later depends on your answer.
I've had enough confrontation for a while, not in a conversational mood. If you tell me it's fine to come back, I'll come. If you want to scold me and set new limitations on me, I won't be part of it.
I'm in a fucking cell. I'm finished being cornered.
<avaricious> | PRIVATE
[At first, the feed's eerily hushed. The blades to the fan cut through the air in a cycle; a constant spin, twirling, twirling, twirling as droning as a hotel room left vacant. The quiet, though - it doesn't last. The furnace at the backside of his room abruptly huffs to life. It erupts in a series of pops - the leftover coals trapped behind the grate snapping off, one at a time, like bullets popping from a gun. The Sin's teeth touch and while it may be hard to hear, a distinct whine creeps into the recording. The shrill wheeze similar to brittle steel finally buckling under a weight.]
["I'm in a fucking cell."]
Oi, oi, oi - [Greed's tone is low - the ball of smoke stuck in his throat breathy and deep. A single scratch soon follows; the sound of grinding wood crisp, sharp, and tinged with a hiss of heat.] - you should have told me before. [He starts, the forks of his tongue cracking inside his jaw. Mello's already given his dues. Through his offerings, through his measures to pay off a debt he never, truly could. It had been a struggle no doubt, but the end result had been satisfactory. Not perfect, of course not, but then again - ]
[ - how does one pay off a life that's already spent?]
[The former homunculus skirts away - the thud of his boots bristling with ash.] You're in Bavan, right? [He slurs. Leather, a brush of fur - they crawl into the recording. His shifting movement quick and brisk. Greed snatches a set of keys and as he pockets them, the furnace suddenly dies out. As if it's been squelched; like that of a fire put out with a bucket.]
Word has it you've already taken care of things here. I'm not interested in punishing you, M. [The bite to his tone is scathing. Stocke, Dante, the others - there's no question that Mello crossed a line. But he made his amends, swallowed his pride. And now, now - ]
[The Sin pauses. A stagnant groan soon follows; the joints to his door wrenching themselves open, wide and aching.] As for the rest - not really much else you can do, is there?
<Mello> | PRIVATE
Wait —
[He's in Bavan. Bars enchanted and bringing his power to a level of near-uselessness, small cell cracking him more and more each day. But it's almost over, almost paid — Mello's settled many debts in the last month or so, this being the final he intends on seeing through.]
[Voice insistent, near frantic. It can't happen this way; standing against L is grounds for Mello to make an enemy of anyone, regardless of their dynamic. A shift of knees against concrete, and when he speaks again, his voice is lower if not more severe.]
I need to do my time.
[No explanation will be given unless demanded. It's a weak stance to take, he knows. Something he has no intention of repeating, but Greed's immediate response was unexpected, welcome as it is.]
Just needed to know the stakes, figure out where to go from here. I can't have you — or anyone — interfering.
[And again, for what seems like the hundredth time since he first set foot near the Sin close enough to taste the soot coming from his scorching form.]
Need you to trust me on this, yeah. I just wanted to know the stakes, figure out how to handle things once I get out of here.
[And if it helps any— ]
Won't be more than a few days, now. I've been here for nearly a month; I'm not looking for rescue.
<avaricious> | PRIVATE
["Wait-"]
Ah-?
[Greed stops and along the recording, everything seems unwind. No longer does the door haunt on its hinges; no more do his boots thud along the floor. Instead, it's faintly quiet - the only hush, a meeting of keys, barely slapping together. The Sin slumps his shoulder. Making M for a Martyr. His need to sacrifice. In the end, he really wasn't that off, was he?]
[However - ] You want to stay there, then? [He mulls it over; that tongue of his pressing against his cheek with the idea. This is Mello's payment. An action he believes is right, a penance he thinks he needs. The former homunculus huffs on the other side of the receiver - his smile waning down to a sliver.] Humans - you still think you deserve it, after everything else. Ehh - [He lifts his chin. On his end, the feed lets off a crackle; as if a candle nearby has puckered to life, low and waxy.]
[No, given the choice? Freedom has always been his, but - ]
[Greed drops his keys and when they thwck against a wood surface, the resignation is clear. This is what Mello wants - this is his desperation. Someway of cleaning the slate to start fresh, new.]
[So be it.]
Suit yourself. Just tell me when you're out. [He waves his fingers while he talks; as if brushing off the idea and shooing it away as simply as dust in a corner. He couldn't force the other if he tried and really, what would be the point? It's his decision. And in the end, isn't that how it goes?]
["I've always been a fan of choice - "]
[The Sin draws up his heel again and in the receiver, the dull scrape of wood is relaxed and sluggish.] A few days. After that, I'll be there. [And he will. No one else, no one more.]
[Just the devil and his steel, waiting to take one more back with him.]
<Mello> | PRIVATE
[The exhale is forced, exasperated. Being imprisoned this way has essentially removed Mello's ability to manage his tone — an animal in a fucking cage: when he speaks his voice is raw, lacking the cool demeanor he tries so hard to maintain when conversing with Greed. If the grit of his teeth is audible, it's not something of which he's consciously aware.]
I don't want to stay here. About to tear these fucking walls apart if time doesn't pick up.
[Which it won't. The scrape of claws against cement is loud enough to cause a stir a few cells over, a rustle of fabric that even with his dulled abilities, Mello can pick up on with acute sharpness.]
Linden's got this system in place, yeah, and it's not going over well with anyone. If I call people in and get myself out — [A long, long pause. So tempting.] — it'll break this thing before it begins.
[And because he doesn't exactly possess a wide array of conversational partners right now — ]
No one wants this prison here; these laws are inane. If I don't do my time, it gives everyone the green to raid this place every time one of their own ends up in here.
[Breathe. Breathe.]
But they won't stop at that, yeah, they'll go after him. Then we'll have a bigger problem than someone playing cops and robbers where there's no place for it.
[Oh, but he'll gladly accompany Greed back to Djävulenstad when all is said and done. Rustling, and there's a click of bootheels on the floor when Mello begins to pace.]
He won't listen to me. [But.]
But you —
[He'll let that hang for a moment; whether or not Greed wants to become involved is unpredictable. If the prison affects him in no way, there's no reason to intervene, is there?]
<avaricious> | PRIVATE
[Linden. The former homunculus puckers his mouth on the other side of the line. For Mello, it all comes back to him, doesn’t it? Their connection is a web of sorts. Like a pair of birds tied by a string, where one goes, the other follows. And as time goes on, the knots only begin to tighten. The inevitable choke leaving both him and his tangled in a situation, both sticky and personal.]
[And here, oh here comes to the spider.]
[Greed sheepishly lifts his shoulders. While it’s impossible to see, the show of his grin is priceless. The wet smack of his lips practically peels into the recording. Like that of a pried band-aid gone sour.] Me, huh. [The Sin tastes his words. They trill down his throat in a sweet vibration; the sound of sweet-booze liquor, tumbling to its final destination. One of his nails grazes his thigh and as it traces the side of his leg, the leathery seam skips underneath. Once, twice, three times, then a fourth. As if the idea itself is somehow, somehow - ]
You really think he'll listen to that? You said it yourself - a prison isn't exactly very popular. [But. A hint of hesitation plays on the sharps of his teeth. L's got a debt to pay, doesn't he? His ledger is hefty, the interest even more so. The former homunculus sways the flat of his boot across the floor; its pass, only a whisper in the receiver.]
I'll see what I can do to. [While he talks, Greed leverages the door again. The smoke at his ankles, the suffocation around him; they trail about the recording. A haunting's presence slipping in, second by second, inch for inch, until it's far, far, too late.]
[For the Lord may forgive and the warden may release. But the devil - ]
[He'll always come back.]
[Greed hooks his keys into the lip of his back pocket, forcing the chrome plates to tnk-tnk-tnk out of focus.] Ah. I'm sure this goes without saying, but whatever you did, I want to know. [There it is. That little warning, that low-brow simmer. After all, this isn't the first time Mello's been on thin ice. He did it before. Back in town, without a single worry or care as to the consequences. However, actions? They have a way of catching up.]
[Hopefully, Mello doesn't need a repeat.]
[The former homunculus extends his tail and as that flat of his spade pats the top of the device, an airy crack interrupts the feed.] Two days. In the meantime, make sure you're ready. [He repeats. The lid of the laptop crch and cricks. Finally though, the wheezy hinges snap closed. Forcing the feed to abruptly cut as sure as a knife, tossed from its case.]
[Two days isn't long, but it's enough. And if Mello's true to his word, well.]
[There's no better friend than sin, sin, sin, sin at the back.]