[Greed looks beyond Michael, then. His eyes skate the bathroom tiles, black as they are, and the smile that creeps up his face is an old one. He doesn't know 10,000 years or more, but he does know 200. Knows 200 and when the number finally stopped.]
["You don't need me anymore, kid."]
[The Sin spreads his fingers, running them through Michael's hair to tease out any knots.] Yeah, thing is - [His eyes shift, turning back to the angel before him with the tenderness of a viper that means no harm.] - it won't do much good. What's happened happened. Can't really change it, hmn? [He coils his knuckles around a stubborn tangle to slowly unwind it.] Some things are better left unsaid. Secrets, Blue Eyes. Sometimes, they're worth it. But this one? [He puckers his lip with a light hum.] Let's just say it's a whole lot more trouble than ya need, and we'll leave it at that.
Mn. [The former homunculus lets his hand drop out of Michael's hair, wet and slippery.] But this place isn't yours, is it? So, why should you be held to something that never belonged to you in the first place? That's the thing. Nothing's impossible. You might always be in control back where you come from, but here? Well. [His upper lip twitches, leveling between anger and acceptance. And he's already said it, hasn't he? What's happened happened. Three days from now, whoever Michael's killed will be back again. Whether they're angry, bitter, or forgiving is the bigger question.]
[But that's not today. That's not tomorrow. And so, the former homunculus settles on the present.]
[Greed huffs a sound through his nose. Sometimes, he wonders if he got the better part of the bargain. Lucifer and Michael may outlast and outstand him by years, but he managed to get his freedom, didn't he? He was able to leave. Leave, experience, and take as time went on. No duty shackled him and no rules applied. Only the ones he made. The ones he made and continues to do so even here.]
You really are that, aren't you? Pure or whatever. But don't get the wrong idea. [He sinks his hand, wets it, then runs it across another one of Michael's wings, letting the water slip like silk off the cool-black of his skin.] You talk about me caring like it's the same. And I'm here to tell you again that it isn't. It isn't a blessing or a curse, Michael. Sometimes it just is, just as I'm me. Hierarchy, right? Everyone's got this whole idea that greed is just for money and power -
[Dreamily, the Sin traces one of Michael's feathers with his thumb; his touch as delicate as someone admiring a piece, a trinket, unique in design.] - for sex, status, glory. But then, what about wanting to bring someone back from the dead? What about saving someone you love? About getting out of a bad situation? Deny it all you want, but all of that is still greed.
Humans, even your kind, think there's a right and wrong to wanting. There isn't. Not to me. [There are rules, sure. Certain rules only him and him alone will ever know. But desire? Desire doesn't come in black and white, nor does it balance on a scale. No instead, it lives in the comfortable gray; where choice, decision, and the ability for both are all that matter.]
[Greed shimmies his claw through the mangled tufts of a feather, smoothing it straight again.] I can't really say you're wrong about that. Because you're right, it isn't fair. They weren't given the option. So, why should you or any of us hold them to the same standards? [He shifts his weight and the water beneath them sloshes lonely along the edges of the tub.] Everyone wants something, Michael. Things, people, experiences. Maybe, that's the beauty you're looking for. Think about it. Might find out it's not so complicated.
[Once the last of the soap is gone and the water comes back clear, the former homunculus wraps himself around Michael again. It takes some effort (what with the tub as slick as it is and Michael's wingspan practically eating up half the room), but eventually he gets to a stand. And as a flood spews out of them, the Sin guides one of his legs over the side of the tub, forcing it to the floor with a soggy, wet-leather squshh.] Knock that off, that coward talk. You didn't know what you were up against. You had no idea what would happen. Take the lesson instead, Blues. The rest of it doesn't suit ya.
[Oh yeah, he does not give a shit he's addressing Michael that way. He's never given a shit. Authority, high-powers: he'll bite and snap at them all the same.]
[Greed reaches out with a spare hand, grabbing two black towels off a hanger.] Then I guess you're staying here for the night, aren't you? [He asks fully aware and already knowing the answer. Michael can protest all he wants: he's all but made the decision for him.]
[So, with an expression overly exasperated, dramatic, and a bit sarcastic, the Sin tries to drop a towel over Michael's head as he makes his way from the bathtub.] Oh, ho. Getting cheeky with me now? You should know better.
[He walks through the bathroom, heels squishing, boots squeaking, with a trail of water growing behind him so bloated and drenched, it would make most men wince.] I want everything, hmn? But for now - [The length of his tail is the last thing that slips out of the tub and as it goes, the barbs of it quietly (secretly) catch the stopper by its chain. One pull, and the woes of hours ago slowly begin disappear. Where? Only Truth knows. And maybe, it's better that way.]
[Greed flicks his tail, expanding the spines at the tip with a metallic twng of steel.] - try living for once. You and that brother of yours have this habit, this stupid fucking idea, that you don't deserve it. So, we're gunna do things my way. [He snidely sucks on a tooth.] See, I can't stand when people deny themselves, Michael. Doesn't sit well with me. There's no point. From now on, you're gunna start living. Really living. That's the deal.
[A heat, like a warm furnace, like an unknown something, reaches up to his throat. It isn't burning like before. No, there's no viciousness to speak of. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's welcoming. Welcoming in that way a fireplace is when the whole world's gone cold, cold, cold. Greed tilts his head and as all the jewels around his neck shift wet against his chest, he shows his teeth to Michael; sharp, slivering, and beckoning all the same.]
But first thing's first - let's get you dried off.
no subject
["You don't need me anymore, kid."]
[The Sin spreads his fingers, running them through Michael's hair to tease out any knots.] Yeah, thing is - [His eyes shift, turning back to the angel before him with the tenderness of a viper that means no harm.] - it won't do much good. What's happened happened. Can't really change it, hmn? [He coils his knuckles around a stubborn tangle to slowly unwind it.] Some things are better left unsaid. Secrets, Blue Eyes. Sometimes, they're worth it. But this one? [He puckers his lip with a light hum.] Let's just say it's a whole lot more trouble than ya need, and we'll leave it at that.
Mn. [The former homunculus lets his hand drop out of Michael's hair, wet and slippery.] But this place isn't yours, is it? So, why should you be held to something that never belonged to you in the first place? That's the thing. Nothing's impossible. You might always be in control back where you come from, but here? Well. [His upper lip twitches, leveling between anger and acceptance. And he's already said it, hasn't he? What's happened happened. Three days from now, whoever Michael's killed will be back again. Whether they're angry, bitter, or forgiving is the bigger question.]
[But that's not today. That's not tomorrow. And so, the former homunculus settles on the present.]
[Greed huffs a sound through his nose. Sometimes, he wonders if he got the better part of the bargain. Lucifer and Michael may outlast and outstand him by years, but he managed to get his freedom, didn't he? He was able to leave. Leave, experience, and take as time went on. No duty shackled him and no rules applied. Only the ones he made. The ones he made and continues to do so even here.]
You really are that, aren't you? Pure or whatever. But don't get the wrong idea. [He sinks his hand, wets it, then runs it across another one of Michael's wings, letting the water slip like silk off the cool-black of his skin.] You talk about me caring like it's the same. And I'm here to tell you again that it isn't. It isn't a blessing or a curse, Michael. Sometimes it just is, just as I'm me. Hierarchy, right? Everyone's got this whole idea that greed is just for money and power -
[Dreamily, the Sin traces one of Michael's feathers with his thumb; his touch as delicate as someone admiring a piece, a trinket, unique in design.] - for sex, status, glory. But then, what about wanting to bring someone back from the dead? What about saving someone you love? About getting out of a bad situation? Deny it all you want, but all of that is still greed.
Humans, even your kind, think there's a right and wrong to wanting. There isn't. Not to me. [There are rules, sure. Certain rules only him and him alone will ever know. But desire? Desire doesn't come in black and white, nor does it balance on a scale. No instead, it lives in the comfortable gray; where choice, decision, and the ability for both are all that matter.]
[Greed shimmies his claw through the mangled tufts of a feather, smoothing it straight again.] I can't really say you're wrong about that. Because you're right, it isn't fair. They weren't given the option. So, why should you or any of us hold them to the same standards? [He shifts his weight and the water beneath them sloshes lonely along the edges of the tub.] Everyone wants something, Michael. Things, people, experiences. Maybe, that's the beauty you're looking for. Think about it. Might find out it's not so complicated.
[Once the last of the soap is gone and the water comes back clear, the former homunculus wraps himself around Michael again. It takes some effort (what with the tub as slick as it is and Michael's wingspan practically eating up half the room), but eventually he gets to a stand. And as a flood spews out of them, the Sin guides one of his legs over the side of the tub, forcing it to the floor with a soggy, wet-leather squshh.] Knock that off, that coward talk. You didn't know what you were up against. You had no idea what would happen. Take the lesson instead, Blues. The rest of it doesn't suit ya.
[Oh yeah, he does not give a shit he's addressing Michael that way. He's never given a shit. Authority, high-powers: he'll bite and snap at them all the same.]
[Greed reaches out with a spare hand, grabbing two black towels off a hanger.] Then I guess you're staying here for the night, aren't you? [He asks fully aware and already knowing the answer. Michael can protest all he wants: he's all but made the decision for him.]
[So, with an expression overly exasperated, dramatic, and a bit sarcastic, the Sin tries to drop a towel over Michael's head as he makes his way from the bathtub.] Oh, ho. Getting cheeky with me now? You should know better.
[He walks through the bathroom, heels squishing, boots squeaking, with a trail of water growing behind him so bloated and drenched, it would make most men wince.] I want everything, hmn? But for now - [The length of his tail is the last thing that slips out of the tub and as it goes, the barbs of it quietly (secretly) catch the stopper by its chain. One pull, and the woes of hours ago slowly begin disappear. Where? Only Truth knows. And maybe, it's better that way.]
[Greed flicks his tail, expanding the spines at the tip with a metallic twng of steel.] - try living for once. You and that brother of yours have this habit, this stupid fucking idea, that you don't deserve it. So, we're gunna do things my way. [He snidely sucks on a tooth.] See, I can't stand when people deny themselves, Michael. Doesn't sit well with me. There's no point. From now on, you're gunna start living. Really living. That's the deal.
[A heat, like a warm furnace, like an unknown something, reaches up to his throat. It isn't burning like before. No, there's no viciousness to speak of. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's welcoming. Welcoming in that way a fireplace is when the whole world's gone cold, cold, cold. Greed tilts his head and as all the jewels around his neck shift wet against his chest, he shows his teeth to Michael; sharp, slivering, and beckoning all the same.]
But first thing's first - let's get you dried off.