Coolly, the Sin plucks his fingers off the roof as he watches the ice crawl its way slowly up the car. He keeps the tips of his nails a hair's breath away; the distance of them more similar to that of a man, faintly mapping out a lover's gentle curves. Greed ticks one of his eyebrows curiously above the frames of his sunglasses. Out of the two of them, Murmur has always been the one a bit more kempt. A bit more put together, letting no one, no thing, get a glimpse of what truly lies beneath. So, seeing him snap? Even for a second?
Oh, oh, oh, can he not help but look.
The devil flashes a thin smile before opening one of the backdoors. A crisp sheet of chill snaps off the lip, sending a little dusting coughing to the ground like a short, snowy squall. "Might want to listen to him, friend," Greed tongues as he slides into the seats in the rear. He sprawls out one of his legs, slapping his heel against the center console with a solid thunk. "-even I haven't seen him like this before. Would be a lot easier on ya if you took his offer."
Settling in, he plants his elbows onto either side of the door, allowing him to spread out haphazardly in the back. With the small of his spine planted into a tight corner, the Sin tips his head towards the window. Immediately, the ice across the glass begins to drearily melt - his threat of heat, cooking it to trickles. Greed reaches into his vest. "Though, think that was taking it a bit far, huh? Don't tell me you're letting those emotions of yours take control, Mur," he purrs, chidingly. It's all a part of this whole thing they have. A little give, a little teasing, and plenty, oh plenty, of take, take, take.
The Sin strikes a match across the door's top trim, causing the tip of it to huff to a flame. For a second or two, he just watches it; the flick of fire, playing dim reflections in his shades. Finally though, he coaxes it to the end of a fresh cigarette and as the black paper peels away, it's gold that answers. Gold, rich and toxic.
He presses the crank down with his elbow to toss the match out the window. "Y'know, there'll be more of them once we get there. Don't think that little trick of yours is going to work." He shifts, arching his shoulders into the frame of his tight nook. "And Envy, ah well. I'm pretty sure they already have a good idea we're coming."
A thread of smoke tangles out of his nose, and the Sin's lips peel back. The warmth of the tobacco pillows behind his teeth. It sags on his tongue like a thunderhead - the thickness of it, solid. Heavy. Greed sighs, and a sheet of smog scrapes over his grin. "Think you can keep our friend here occupied while I say hello? Then, feel free to do whatever you want." Slurring, the Sin twists his wrist. Violence isn't his go-to, not usually. But this is a bit personal, isn't it? And given the angel's current temperament, well.
They tried not to make it messy from the start, didn't they?
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Oh, oh, oh, can he not help but look.
The devil flashes a thin smile before opening one of the backdoors. A crisp sheet of chill snaps off the lip, sending a little dusting coughing to the ground like a short, snowy squall. "Might want to listen to him, friend," Greed tongues as he slides into the seats in the rear. He sprawls out one of his legs, slapping his heel against the center console with a solid thunk. "-even I haven't seen him like this before. Would be a lot easier on ya if you took his offer."
Settling in, he plants his elbows onto either side of the door, allowing him to spread out haphazardly in the back. With the small of his spine planted into a tight corner, the Sin tips his head towards the window. Immediately, the ice across the glass begins to drearily melt - his threat of heat, cooking it to trickles. Greed reaches into his vest. "Though, think that was taking it a bit far, huh? Don't tell me you're letting those emotions of yours take control, Mur," he purrs, chidingly. It's all a part of this whole thing they have. A little give, a little teasing, and plenty, oh plenty, of take, take, take.
The Sin strikes a match across the door's top trim, causing the tip of it to huff to a flame. For a second or two, he just watches it; the flick of fire, playing dim reflections in his shades. Finally though, he coaxes it to the end of a fresh cigarette and as the black paper peels away, it's gold that answers. Gold, rich and toxic.
He presses the crank down with his elbow to toss the match out the window. "Y'know, there'll be more of them once we get there. Don't think that little trick of yours is going to work." He shifts, arching his shoulders into the frame of his tight nook. "And Envy, ah well. I'm pretty sure they already have a good idea we're coming."
A thread of smoke tangles out of his nose, and the Sin's lips peel back. The warmth of the tobacco pillows behind his teeth. It sags on his tongue like a thunderhead - the thickness of it, solid. Heavy. Greed sighs, and a sheet of smog scrapes over his grin. "Think you can keep our friend here occupied while I say hello? Then, feel free to do whatever you want." Slurring, the Sin twists his wrist. Violence isn't his go-to, not usually. But this is a bit personal, isn't it? And given the angel's current temperament, well.
They tried not to make it messy from the start, didn't they?