Terrible housecleaning habits, leaving gore to rot into the concrete. The ants and roaches will be well fed at the very least. How thoughtful of him to feed the scavengers. They can have the rest after Murmur's done with the blood, or perhaps if there's a chef around they'll certainly know what to do with a fresh goat.
"The infernal are not exactly known for being particularly forgiving, no," There was a faint bit of wry humor in his tone at that. Slighting devils was never a particularly wise decision. No wonder Greed and his were skittish, though they should be far more worried about their own than Murmur. If he wanted to cause them trouble he would have simply left Greed to deal with the consequences of his carelessness. "Ah, don't be so cynical. You have thus far escaped their grasp, that is a change, subtle though it may be. Change is ever around us, one must simply learn how to observe it." Cheeky and sly as always, Murmur was happy to end the conversation there with their path forward illuminated by sickly light.
Appropriate, in a place like this. Where shadows and secrets dwelled far away from prying eyes. Little did Greed realize Murmur's were the most prying of them all. He just couldn't help himself, it was in his nature. "Nothing's free," He agrees, and in a way Greed was still racking up a bill. Rescued, babysat, his minions tolerated, and his headquarters hidden from sight? Murmur was doing a lot of work here he wouldn't do for just anyone. And now he was about to crack out the forbidden magic? Greed was going to owe him quite the debt indeed. He followed along those twists and turns, cramped corridors and low arches. This place really was sprawling, and with only one goat they'd have to be tactical with their work. Ideally Bido will understand the need once he explains the process further.
Ah, they did indeed pick him adequate space. Most excellent. "Exemplary work, Bido!" High praise from the angel, especially given some of that monotone of his actually shifted into something genuine. Now it was his time to shine. Murmur made his way toward the bucket, setting down the bowl of ash collected earlier nearby and standing again to begin rolling up his sleeves. This was perhaps the first hint that there was more to the angel than met the eye. While he went out of his way to appear as unimpressive in dress and visage as possible his arms were a different story.
Flowing intricate tattoos covered them, arcane symbols of all manner were woven in such dense intricacy it would take even the most seasoned scholar ages to begin to pick them apart. In the dim light the ink seemed to have an unearthly shimmer, sometimes silver, sometimes blood red when they caught the light just right. He motioned for Greed to approach. "Bleed the goat in there, every drop you possibly can. We'll need as much as we can get." The place really was far too large, after all. Once Greed moved to comply he'd begin his work, in equal parts he mixed in the dirt and ash, a pinch here and a handful there he worked the mixture with a paint stirrer he'd found along the way.
Working like this the icy countenance fell away, and a man possessed was revealed in his place. A mad scientist over his experiment, an expert alchemist and chemist both as he muttered incantations and wove his magic into the mixture. Nearing completion they required one final component, so rare as to be nigh impossible to extract... unless one happened to have the very source on hand. Gesturing for Greed to keep his distance Murmur straightened, great wings erupting from his back all at once and the reason for his insistence on space was clear - they were huge.
Easily twenty feet, if not more, from tip to tip with pale blue-gray feathers that glittered as if covered in a fine layer of frost. They were long and narrow like a gull, or more accurately like an albatross, a bird whose omens were all too fitting now in light of their present situation. The pristine feathers were unmarred save for a striking patch at each shoulder with mottled bloodstains marring the otherwise even coloration. The striking markings of a faction only known in whispers and conspiracies, Blood Angels. Greed wasn't the only one harboring secrets, after all.
Murmur was wholly consumed by his work, and unwilling to comment on anything about his wings. Delicately he searched through his feathers, one by one plucking out small ones to crumble into the mixture. As he did so it began to take on a shimmer not unlike the frosty sheen that adorned him. Either unaware or unwilling to acknowledge there might be questions from his witnesses, Murmur went on with his explanation. "Bido, when I am finished with this I will need you to paint a stripe of this above every window and door that opens to the outside of this building. You may have to be sparing, I know not how many exist. Are you able to complete this task?"
no subject
"The infernal are not exactly known for being particularly forgiving, no," There was a faint bit of wry humor in his tone at that. Slighting devils was never a particularly wise decision. No wonder Greed and his were skittish, though they should be far more worried about their own than Murmur. If he wanted to cause them trouble he would have simply left Greed to deal with the consequences of his carelessness. "Ah, don't be so cynical. You have thus far escaped their grasp, that is a change, subtle though it may be. Change is ever around us, one must simply learn how to observe it." Cheeky and sly as always, Murmur was happy to end the conversation there with their path forward illuminated by sickly light.
Appropriate, in a place like this. Where shadows and secrets dwelled far away from prying eyes. Little did Greed realize Murmur's were the most prying of them all. He just couldn't help himself, it was in his nature. "Nothing's free," He agrees, and in a way Greed was still racking up a bill. Rescued, babysat, his minions tolerated, and his headquarters hidden from sight? Murmur was doing a lot of work here he wouldn't do for just anyone. And now he was about to crack out the forbidden magic? Greed was going to owe him quite the debt indeed. He followed along those twists and turns, cramped corridors and low arches. This place really was sprawling, and with only one goat they'd have to be tactical with their work. Ideally Bido will understand the need once he explains the process further.
Ah, they did indeed pick him adequate space. Most excellent. "Exemplary work, Bido!" High praise from the angel, especially given some of that monotone of his actually shifted into something genuine. Now it was his time to shine. Murmur made his way toward the bucket, setting down the bowl of ash collected earlier nearby and standing again to begin rolling up his sleeves. This was perhaps the first hint that there was more to the angel than met the eye. While he went out of his way to appear as unimpressive in dress and visage as possible his arms were a different story.
Flowing intricate tattoos covered them, arcane symbols of all manner were woven in such dense intricacy it would take even the most seasoned scholar ages to begin to pick them apart. In the dim light the ink seemed to have an unearthly shimmer, sometimes silver, sometimes blood red when they caught the light just right. He motioned for Greed to approach. "Bleed the goat in there, every drop you possibly can. We'll need as much as we can get." The place really was far too large, after all. Once Greed moved to comply he'd begin his work, in equal parts he mixed in the dirt and ash, a pinch here and a handful there he worked the mixture with a paint stirrer he'd found along the way.
Working like this the icy countenance fell away, and a man possessed was revealed in his place. A mad scientist over his experiment, an expert alchemist and chemist both as he muttered incantations and wove his magic into the mixture. Nearing completion they required one final component, so rare as to be nigh impossible to extract... unless one happened to have the very source on hand. Gesturing for Greed to keep his distance Murmur straightened, great wings erupting from his back all at once and the reason for his insistence on space was clear - they were huge.
Easily twenty feet, if not more, from tip to tip with pale blue-gray feathers that glittered as if covered in a fine layer of frost. They were long and narrow like a gull, or more accurately like an albatross, a bird whose omens were all too fitting now in light of their present situation. The pristine feathers were unmarred save for a striking patch at each shoulder with mottled bloodstains marring the otherwise even coloration. The striking markings of a faction only known in whispers and conspiracies, Blood Angels. Greed wasn't the only one harboring secrets, after all.
Murmur was wholly consumed by his work, and unwilling to comment on anything about his wings. Delicately he searched through his feathers, one by one plucking out small ones to crumble into the mixture. As he did so it began to take on a shimmer not unlike the frosty sheen that adorned him. Either unaware or unwilling to acknowledge there might be questions from his witnesses, Murmur went on with his explanation. "Bido, when I am finished with this I will need you to paint a stripe of this above every window and door that opens to the outside of this building. You may have to be sparing, I know not how many exist. Are you able to complete this task?"