Well, now that you mention it - [Greed lifts his arm, tipping his wrist and cocking out his thumb and index finger like a gun ready to fire.] - I was in the body of a prince once. A little shit that was going to be emperor at the end of it all. Does that count? [He doesn't want to think about Ling too much when they're like this, but it's a nice memory. The pissant had a crown in his mind's eye, and he had been all too willing to follow that road to its conclusion. Was going to, even in their final moments.]
[Promises, though. They're sometimes made to be broken. Not often, not even more than once. But that one time had been enough. Enough, enough, enough.]
[The Sin's eyes drearily open to watch the last hints of smoke fade in the hollow of her room. She asks something and she doesn't know. How could she? It's easy to assume there's more of them. After all, seven makes a set. However, that set has never really suited him. The way he was made, the reason he was created in the first place. Greed drops his hand to rest it on her knee. He lets his claws trace the warmth of the sheets, to feel the richness of them that has nothing to do with the fabric count and everything to do with her right here, right now.]
Avarice. Greed the Avaricious. [He speaks his own name, his fully given title, like a secret in the dark.] And yeah, you've got most of them. Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Envy - [His voice hitches in his throat, chokes itself there, then squeezes through his teeth like a gunk-covered vent.] - Wrath. [The muscles in him tense before he can stop himself. Because unlike most things, it's that sin in particular he can't let go of. Can't forget because he'll always remember: the drips of a lonely sewer, the stench of blood and sulfur in the air, the sound of screams and gunshots.]
[Greed's nails scratch and this time, he catches himself before he can do any damage; the threads of the sheets merely plucked a bit more loose than before.] Not a stupid question, Seras. You'll hear a lot of people, especially those from that other Hell, talk about the Seven Deadly Sins. But they aren't mine. [The slits of his eyes constrict themselves, turning to needles in his skull.] Except for maybe one. I haven't checked if he stuck around though.
[A weight drops from his shoulders and oh, the crown's a heavy one, isn't it? The former homunculus hums and as he grabs one her hands, he plants his mouth on her fingers.] Don't have any other name, lovely. I am Greed. And that's all I'll ever be.
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[Promises, though. They're sometimes made to be broken. Not often, not even more than once. But that one time had been enough. Enough, enough, enough.]
[The Sin's eyes drearily open to watch the last hints of smoke fade in the hollow of her room. She asks something and she doesn't know. How could she? It's easy to assume there's more of them. After all, seven makes a set. However, that set has never really suited him. The way he was made, the reason he was created in the first place. Greed drops his hand to rest it on her knee. He lets his claws trace the warmth of the sheets, to feel the richness of them that has nothing to do with the fabric count and everything to do with her right here, right now.]
Avarice. Greed the Avaricious. [He speaks his own name, his fully given title, like a secret in the dark.] And yeah, you've got most of them. Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Envy - [His voice hitches in his throat, chokes itself there, then squeezes through his teeth like a gunk-covered vent.] - Wrath. [The muscles in him tense before he can stop himself. Because unlike most things, it's that sin in particular he can't let go of. Can't forget because he'll always remember: the drips of a lonely sewer, the stench of blood and sulfur in the air, the sound of screams and gunshots.]
[Greed's nails scratch and this time, he catches himself before he can do any damage; the threads of the sheets merely plucked a bit more loose than before.] Not a stupid question, Seras. You'll hear a lot of people, especially those from that other Hell, talk about the Seven Deadly Sins. But they aren't mine. [The slits of his eyes constrict themselves, turning to needles in his skull.] Except for maybe one. I haven't checked if he stuck around though.
[A weight drops from his shoulders and oh, the crown's a heavy one, isn't it? The former homunculus hums and as he grabs one her hands, he plants his mouth on her fingers.] Don't have any other name, lovely. I am Greed. And that's all I'll ever be.