Politely Murmur inclined his head to acknowledge Bido's introduction. The interaction between the two was fascinating, this was a side of Greed he hadn't seen in action before, and might not have completely believed existed until this moment. Greed's consistent displays of carelessness and bravado were enough to even smoke screen the Angel of Sight's vision in this area, it would seem.
Now, while a steady hand wasn't strictly necessary a swift one was, and if Bido could get where the others couldn't more effectively then he was not one to complain about the choice in artists. Certainly Greed knew the strengths of his crew, and this time Murmur would trust his decision in the matter. After all, if Bido failed, then it was all of their heads.
He was not going to bring that up in the present delicate company. As it was he didn't need to offer a word in edge wise, instead only nodding when Bido asked if it was the dirt he needed. The dirt, and enough room to spread his wings, a commodity he wasn't expecting to be in such short supply and yet here they were. "Do you have somewhere with some space?" He asked while Bido was scampering away, clicking claws fading as he vanished.
Eyes that had been watching the creature's retreat dart down to regard Greed with a newfound curiosity. This tenderness was strange. "I may be cold, but I am not needlessly cruel." He can tell when he should best keep his mouth shut and curb the bitter edge of his ice. This being, Bido, had been through the wringer and was not built of the same durability as those who do not understand death. A quiet, amused yet rueful sound escaped him. "Thus is the cost of all this grey. Black and white have faded, their meanings obscured in the fog. What is wickedness for one is salvation for another. Fair, unfortunately, is very difficult to weigh." He isn't without sympathy, there is a kind of long deep sadness in his tone. Strange, given how very rarely even the barest hint of emotion might leak from his icy dam. Life wasn't fair, that didn't mean they couldn't be furious at the injustice of it all.
"Ah, and that is how you found yourself in such an unfortunate predicament, I expect?" He really must learn to be more careful. Greed picking and prodding at their paint medium did have him grinding his teeth just a little, but the demon seemed smart enough not to drain too much of it out onto the floor. It wouldn't do them any good there. "Like as not I am already in the thick of it. You might as well divulge, that I can further fortify your defenses." It's easier to know what to do if he knows what he's up against. Yes, he knows well the endless warring of Hell's against themselves, it's part of what keeps them in check. If they're too organized, too focused, then they might just be able to do more damage than even the Holy Host could prevent.
All part of the precarious balance all things were held in. The eternal battle between stagnation and entropy. The push and pull that kept them alive, and in check.
"Mm, fortunately I rather enjoy a good puzzle. Now then, the sooner we get this underway the sooner we may have a moment to breathe. As it were." He doesn't breathe.
no subject
Now, while a steady hand wasn't strictly necessary a swift one was, and if Bido could get where the others couldn't more effectively then he was not one to complain about the choice in artists. Certainly Greed knew the strengths of his crew, and this time Murmur would trust his decision in the matter. After all, if Bido failed, then it was all of their heads.
He was not going to bring that up in the present delicate company. As it was he didn't need to offer a word in edge wise, instead only nodding when Bido asked if it was the dirt he needed. The dirt, and enough room to spread his wings, a commodity he wasn't expecting to be in such short supply and yet here they were. "Do you have somewhere with some space?" He asked while Bido was scampering away, clicking claws fading as he vanished.
Eyes that had been watching the creature's retreat dart down to regard Greed with a newfound curiosity. This tenderness was strange. "I may be cold, but I am not needlessly cruel." He can tell when he should best keep his mouth shut and curb the bitter edge of his ice. This being, Bido, had been through the wringer and was not built of the same durability as those who do not understand death. A quiet, amused yet rueful sound escaped him. "Thus is the cost of all this grey. Black and white have faded, their meanings obscured in the fog. What is wickedness for one is salvation for another. Fair, unfortunately, is very difficult to weigh." He isn't without sympathy, there is a kind of long deep sadness in his tone. Strange, given how very rarely even the barest hint of emotion might leak from his icy dam. Life wasn't fair, that didn't mean they couldn't be furious at the injustice of it all.
"Ah, and that is how you found yourself in such an unfortunate predicament, I expect?" He really must learn to be more careful. Greed picking and prodding at their paint medium did have him grinding his teeth just a little, but the demon seemed smart enough not to drain too much of it out onto the floor. It wouldn't do them any good there. "Like as not I am already in the thick of it. You might as well divulge, that I can further fortify your defenses." It's easier to know what to do if he knows what he's up against. Yes, he knows well the endless warring of Hell's against themselves, it's part of what keeps them in check. If they're too organized, too focused, then they might just be able to do more damage than even the Holy Host could prevent.
All part of the precarious balance all things were held in. The eternal battle between stagnation and entropy. The push and pull that kept them alive, and in check.
"Mm, fortunately I rather enjoy a good puzzle. Now then, the sooner we get this underway the sooner we may have a moment to breathe. As it were." He doesn't breathe.