"Have they now," Greed's tongue lolled between his cheeks; its delicate prodding and poking, as if a large wad of tobacco were stuck somewhere and he was trying to pry it loose. One at a time, his scaled-steel fingers wrapped around his hip bones, cutting into them. His choice of armor was one both of practicality and flair. The joints of his gloves were separated and woven together with nuts and bolts - the points of his jacket were nails plucked from the very graves themselves, needled and threaded into cloth. Everything that he represented was laid out cleanly on his sleeves quite literally, giving no second-guesses as to his intentions.
And what, in all honesty, was more pure than sin, anyway?
Greed bowed his head, making his face dip back into shadow. "Sounds like you two have a similar idea, then. So why come to me?" He took a step forward. The thorny backside of his boot skidded across the floorboards. It dragged, scrapped - the noise, more similar to that of gargoyle, ripping itself from the earth. "I image they'd desire anyone else. Let me guess, no takers?"
One the man's hands left his hip to gesture in a display of leather and cool-cut metal. "Must be pretty desperate asking me for help - " A smile spread, then. Something delightful, something coy, something awful. A wolf's hungry jaw, showing its teeth. "-fine. But it'll be double this time. I'll tell him myself, don't worry your pretty little head, lovely."
Greed arched and a stinging whistle cut itself over his lip. "Oi, you - ! Grab my shovel, would ya? I've got business down town." Down town meaning down: the desecrated remains where many ventured and few returned. One of the tavern's workers snatched a shovel off the wall. He tossed it and the 'Robber grabbed it out of the air - his fingers gripping tight, almost too tight.
"Why don't we get this started, hmn?" The Sin purred, hooking the shovel onto his back. "We wouldn't want to keep our dear Heir waiting." Sarcasm flicked off his tongue like a snake. "Anymore joining our merry band, or are you the only poor sucker they could bargain with? Eh - " Greed ushered out the thought with a wave of his hand. "-doesn't matter. Whatever they want, after all. Wouldn't be right for me to deny them."
The leftovers in his pipe went bottom up on the floor and the 'Robber stamped it out thoughtlessly with his boot.
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And what, in all honesty, was more pure than sin, anyway?
Greed bowed his head, making his face dip back into shadow. "Sounds like you two have a similar idea, then. So why come to me?" He took a step forward. The thorny backside of his boot skidded across the floorboards. It dragged, scrapped - the noise, more similar to that of gargoyle, ripping itself from the earth. "I image they'd desire anyone else. Let me guess, no takers?"
One the man's hands left his hip to gesture in a display of leather and cool-cut metal. "Must be pretty desperate asking me for help - " A smile spread, then. Something delightful, something coy, something awful. A wolf's hungry jaw, showing its teeth. "-fine. But it'll be double this time. I'll tell him myself, don't worry your pretty little head, lovely."
Greed arched and a stinging whistle cut itself over his lip. "Oi, you - ! Grab my shovel, would ya? I've got business down town." Down town meaning down: the desecrated remains where many ventured and few returned. One of the tavern's workers snatched a shovel off the wall. He tossed it and the 'Robber grabbed it out of the air - his fingers gripping tight, almost too tight.
"Why don't we get this started, hmn?" The Sin purred, hooking the shovel onto his back. "We wouldn't want to keep our dear Heir waiting." Sarcasm flicked off his tongue like a snake. "Anymore joining our merry band, or are you the only poor sucker they could bargain with? Eh - " Greed ushered out the thought with a wave of his hand. "-doesn't matter. Whatever they want, after all. Wouldn't be right for me to deny them."
The leftovers in his pipe went bottom up on the floor and the 'Robber stamped it out thoughtlessly with his boot.
"Lead the way Lionheart."