"It is best they keep their distance." He agreed. There wasn't any need to utilize more of the Nesters, best to not have to worry about keeping them out of harm's way while trying to trap an angel. Even one of lower rank, such as the one whose wing he tore off, was a dangerous adversary to demons and their kin. "I will require time enough to collect materials, should you find yourself taking longer than I to clear the space then I suppose I could lend a hand." Loathe as he was to do so, despite his display Murmur did not enjoy fighting.
"I never do things by halves, you should know that by now." He responded in kind with an echoed smirk, much diluted compared to Greed's all-consuming grin. It was a difficult request, but an important one all the same. He had a feeling Greed would come to see it his way. "Your actions will be remembered, of that I can promise you. For angels, mercy is not weakness it is divine. They will know the threat for what it is, that you had every right to take back what was taken from you and then some. In light of that siding with any of your brethren again will be unlikely."
Murmur gestured dismissively, he wasn't asking Greed to be gentle by any means. "Do as you will, it will be a valuable lesson in vetting allegiances. Besides, at the end of this your reward will be much more delectable than one plucked pigeon." Greed could do whatever he wanted to Envy, especially once his Heavenly envoy had been dispersed.
Rising out of the crook of the pew, Greed gives a slow, dismissive wave over his shoulder. "No, no need. I can take care of it," he drawls in, his voice as fine as churning smoke. There's something about the way he stands (the semi-slouch, the way one of his heels lifts drearily off the floor to hover on the point of his toe) that says it all. He's weighing it out; chewing it. The debate of what he wants and his own, self-inflicted rules battling for control.
On the one hand, killing would be a waste, sure enough. On the other hand, he deserved something. Retribution: a tax, a payment with interest, and if Heaven wasn't about to pay the fee, well.
A series of holes begin to pit under the point of his boot; their formation, sluggish and pickled in rot. Greed's shoulders stiffen. "A valuable lesson - is that it?" A drop of wet falls form his mouth and sizzles gold onto the concrete. "You really are a pain, you know. But fine - it's a deal." He pockets his hands and as the angry smear beneath his foot puts itself out, the Sin lets his body fall lax; his ego, all but coming in to smother the notion.
He can wait. After all, his real target should be easy to bait. Envy was and is a predictable creature. No doubt, it's still licking its wounds from earlier. And a loss for jealousy? Well, that would just piss it off enough to do something stupid, wouldn't it?
Greed's mouth wrangles itself into its usual, self-appreciating grin. "Give me a couple of hours. I'll call you on Martel's phone." He thumbs over his shoulder to gesture back at the crew behind him. "She can give you the direction of the place once I'm done."
Murmur wasn't telling Greed not to get his due, not at all, he was simply directing that retribution in a more... constructive direction. A war with Heaven would do nothing but cause more loss. It was unnecessary, and more than that Heaven didn't need pulled into the quarrel between warring Sins. It wasn't normal for them to get involved in such things anyway, this would only serve as a reminder.
And in a way, paint Greed in the light that Murmur saw him, or at the very least the light he pretended was the case: Predictable, and most interested in maintaining his own little kingdom. Not a threat to Heaven, not a threat to stability. Murmur was gambling that in the long run those of the Holy City would be disinclined to repeat this endeavor and instead choose to leave Greed to his devices. He keeps to his own, they to theirs, and the other Sins will have to find new pawns for their games. Murmur of course would always be on their hit list, but that was a problem for a later date.
With Heaven out of the way peaceably, Greed could focus his efforts on the real problem: Envy. "There are other boons to this path," Murmur advises, mysterious as ever. He's not going to go into unnecessary detail, he's not lead Greed astray yet. Finishing off his tea he set the cup aside gingerly, pushing it back toward the Sin to return to his treasury, wherever that might be. "Excellent. Understood. I will return when I have obtained what I need."
He'd like more time to heal, but time was never a gift he had enough of. Before Greed could say anything else he was gone, little more than a gentle cool breeze and the faintest flap of a wing to signal his departure. He'd return by the appointed hour.
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"I never do things by halves, you should know that by now." He responded in kind with an echoed smirk, much diluted compared to Greed's all-consuming grin. It was a difficult request, but an important one all the same. He had a feeling Greed would come to see it his way. "Your actions will be remembered, of that I can promise you. For angels, mercy is not weakness it is divine. They will know the threat for what it is, that you had every right to take back what was taken from you and then some. In light of that siding with any of your brethren again will be unlikely."
Murmur gestured dismissively, he wasn't asking Greed to be gentle by any means. "Do as you will, it will be a valuable lesson in vetting allegiances. Besides, at the end of this your reward will be much more delectable than one plucked pigeon." Greed could do whatever he wanted to Envy, especially once his Heavenly envoy had been dispersed.
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On the one hand, killing would be a waste, sure enough. On the other hand, he deserved something. Retribution: a tax, a payment with interest, and if Heaven wasn't about to pay the fee, well.
A series of holes begin to pit under the point of his boot; their formation, sluggish and pickled in rot. Greed's shoulders stiffen. "A valuable lesson - is that it?" A drop of wet falls form his mouth and sizzles gold onto the concrete. "You really are a pain, you know. But fine - it's a deal." He pockets his hands and as the angry smear beneath his foot puts itself out, the Sin lets his body fall lax; his ego, all but coming in to smother the notion.
He can wait. After all, his real target should be easy to bait. Envy was and is a predictable creature. No doubt, it's still licking its wounds from earlier. And a loss for jealousy? Well, that would just piss it off enough to do something stupid, wouldn't it?
Greed's mouth wrangles itself into its usual, self-appreciating grin. "Give me a couple of hours. I'll call you on Martel's phone." He thumbs over his shoulder to gesture back at the crew behind him. "She can give you the direction of the place once I'm done."
no subject
And in a way, paint Greed in the light that Murmur saw him, or at the very least the light he pretended was the case: Predictable, and most interested in maintaining his own little kingdom. Not a threat to Heaven, not a threat to stability. Murmur was gambling that in the long run those of the Holy City would be disinclined to repeat this endeavor and instead choose to leave Greed to his devices. He keeps to his own, they to theirs, and the other Sins will have to find new pawns for their games. Murmur of course would always be on their hit list, but that was a problem for a later date.
With Heaven out of the way peaceably, Greed could focus his efforts on the real problem: Envy. "There are other boons to this path," Murmur advises, mysterious as ever. He's not going to go into unnecessary detail, he's not lead Greed astray yet. Finishing off his tea he set the cup aside gingerly, pushing it back toward the Sin to return to his treasury, wherever that might be. "Excellent. Understood. I will return when I have obtained what I need."
He'd like more time to heal, but time was never a gift he had enough of. Before Greed could say anything else he was gone, little more than a gentle cool breeze and the faintest flap of a wing to signal his departure. He'd return by the appointed hour.