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Yeah? [He waltzes by the box with his vest and plucks the pack of cigarettes from the fur collar.] Funny, didn't take ya for the sort. What, you've got some experience with medical stuff?
[Greed shakes out a smoke. He tosses it into the corner of his mouth a second later and his other hand flips out a matchbox from his back pocket; its contents rattling as bare as bones.]
[He pauses.] Ah, right. Probably not a good idea to do this in front of you, huh? [He levels the matches between two of his fingers.] C'mon, let's head up top. Don't need to ruin your voice before opening day. [Greed motions towards the stairs, but pauses at the foot of them when she continues.]
[Now, that's a thing to say.]
No, you never need a reason. [The Sin's watching her now. He has no idea what's happened: the deals, the fights, the bitterness.] I'd never deny your company, Vel. Just figured you'd be a bit too busy making a name for yourself to just stop by.
[He drops a hand, spreading his fingers. It's a silent gesture; a wordless offer:]
[Even out of the darkness, Greed moves so differently. It doesn't matter what kind of being he is— human or otherwise— it's that confidence like he knows just what he is at all times, and never has to apologize for it.
What is his secret, she wonders? What makes a person feel that way, entirely, confidently, to their very core? That Greed never has to lie about who or what he is or what he does? She's jealous of it.
She reaches up and toward him, taking his hand, using it to pull herself up and toward him.]
My name makes itself,
[She insists, putting on a cool smile, newly-gilded tooth glimmering in the reflections of neon.]
So I'm never too busy for you.
[The emphasis is on You. Greed is different, and in a way she wants him to know this, wants him to have some little bit of power over that, wants him to hold it like she's given him something secret. Trust. Admiration. Jealousy. A special little place in her heart once occupied by just her brother, but still compartmentalized and controlled— and yet that manages to wrench a bit of truth from her.]
[It's funny in a way: how they made it here. How a night on the town, fresh out of a promise of nothing, could bring them together so simply. Velvet was his first in the grand scheme of things. The first to say yes, the first to take his offer without a single hint of hesitation. Greed helps her upright with little effort; his half-hooded eyes like smoke trailing a long, sleepless night.]
It does. You know how to grab the lights and bring 'em all to ya. That's all a part of the show. [The Sin lets go of her hand to sink his thumb into the lip of his pants.] Met a few like you over the years. People who made the whole world their stage. You can see them a million miles away. [They had been different than Velvet in the fact that they'd been human. And with that humanity came a time limit. Sure, they'd make their mark on the world, leave their names to the history books. But it ended there, didn't it? The days, the months, the years passing them by with only their names and songs as ghosts to remember them.]
[The former homunculus begins heading up the stairs.] Couldn't help but notice that you've added a little bit since the last time we saw each other. [Clueless about the situation, he's still all sharp smiles as he spins his wrist casually at his side.] Did you do that yourself? It's not too bad. Kind of reminds of someone else I've met.
[He doesn't put the pieces together. Angel has a gold tooth too, but that could just be a celebrity thing. A trend to keep up with the pace.]
[Greed makes it to the top step with a soft clp of his heels.] Never been too good at keeping up with certain trends myself. Always just go with what I want at the time. [Which often puts him at odds with society's norms. Not that it seems to matter in Hell: he fits right in.]
[Ugh, she knew he was going to notice sooner or later, but Velvet didn't count on feeling so guilty about it. Between scolding Val and screaming at Angel she's maybe starting to think that I don't make mistakes comment she made before is more of a lie than she thought it was.
She lies all the time, but Greed never has to. It makes a part of her want to be more truthful, but it's a part she doesn't really trust yet. Still— she follows him, watching his hands, that are so different than hers and from a human's. (And why is that so interesting?)]
You mean Angel, right?
[A dissatisfied sigh.]
I got a second job, but it turns out that some people have a weird idea for what counts as a uniform.
[Greed sweeps through and into the main part of the bar. With no one else around and Kamora off to who-knows-where, the building takes on a sleepy feeling. Rinses of neon and browned, tobacco-sticky lights hang above them; their buzzing filling the quiet with a soft hum of a working electrical box.]
[It's these hours that are usually a bit more personal, and tonight's no exception. The Sin cups his smoke with two of his hands and strikes a match on the back of his heel just as she drops that particular bit of information. And the pieces (some of them anyway) gradually come together.]
["Yeah mean Angel, right? ... I guess he and I match, now."]
[The match burns dangerously between his claws, threatening to eat at his skin before he brings it silently to the tip of his cigarette. A couple of brisk, ticking sucks at the corner of his mouth lights it. Life, he's found, never comes without a catch or two. And his, well - they've always been on the raw side of it, haven't they? Even here, in this afterlife, that fact hasn't changed. Each of them has their own story for sure, but that doesn't mean a certain pattern hasn't emerged. A pattern he'll always follow, always run his fingers on, to chase it down, down, down.]
[Because his are just the type. The outcasts, the freaks, the underdogs consistently finding themselves right on the fault line of things.]
[Greed drops the match and crushes it with his heel.] Let me guess - the guy's name is Valentino, right? [He leaves his back exposed to Velvet, yet his tone: it's much more hushed than before; like freon leaking out of a broken line. He isn't mad, no. But he's thinking, weighing the options. Everything Angel's said about the man doesn't paint him in a good light, and their brief conversation on the network had been all sharp smiles and sharper promises.]
[The Sin pinches his smoke between two of his fingers to pull it out of his mouth and drop it by the side of his leg. He waves a hand over his shoulder.] Sit with me a second, huh? I'm not mad. [He offers Velvet the lightest of smiles and ah, does it show his age. Not in wrinkles or grays, oh no. But in those eyes of his. The way they seem to look right through her, reading her soul, seeing her price, in the shadow of the door.] I told you before. Whatever you do with your life is your choice. I'm not about to get in the way of that. But I think we should get a plan together in case things turn ugly.
[He's being so serious, and so calm. She can't lash back out at him the way she did Veneer or Angel, because he hasn't lashed out at all. Greed is just calm, cool, as usual, and— serious.
The defensiveness still comes, bubbling out as a—]
I— I was just gonna use him—
[But then it hits her—
use him for what? She'd have to give context, wouldn't she?
She is made of lies and she has lied and lied and lied and not prepared for this particular one. No— what she didn't prepare for was finding someone it didn't feel good to lie to, and in doing so be faced with the truth herself.
She is delusional, but not without limits. Unfortunately those limits come with a need to defend herself from things Greed hasn't said— hasn't so much as even implied. In rare form, she babbles almost like her brother, when usually he's the one modelling her.]
I didn't know he was— I mean, I'm not stupid, I'm going to come up with a plan— I— I had a plan, actually! And I know that— that Angel and Veneer think I can't do it, but I had! A plan!
[Even her fur bristles; the normally unphased Velvet is clearly distressed. But it's not Greed she's forming a defense against, of course— it's the voice of defeat in her own head, taking the shape of two people whose opinions she's come to value more than she's ready to admit.]
[Greed takes a seat on the leather sofa in the corner, swinging one of his legs over the other to let his foot hang off the cliff of his knee. He gestures to another couch nearby; the cigarette in his hand burning away the awkward seconds.] Sit. [He says. It isn't so much an order, but an ordered suggestion. He can't, won't, stop her if she decides to ditch him right then and there.]
[And she still very well could. But part of him, a small part he tries to ignore, hopes that it won't come to that.]
[The Sin brings his hand to his face, smothering his mouth with his fingers as he takes in the nicotine as hard as he can; the scorch of it, a mild distraction.] Were you? Did he promise you everything with all that fucking sweet talk? You're not that dense, Velvet. [It sounds harsher than he means, but it's honest.] I know you're going to come up with something, but that something may come a little too late. I want you to be ready for it. [He throws his elbow over the arm of the couch to ash his cigarette to the floor.]
[He's seen this story a thousand times over, and he knows how it ends. There's no fairy-tale singalong to close it out, no knight to come rescue the damsel from the dragon. Far from it. Rather, it'll be told in bruises that never quite get a chance to heal, lips that are always and forever cracked down the middle, tears cried lonely in the middle of the night. It's not his world, yet the rules haven't changed.]
[And sometimes he knows that, even without him or his siblings, the mortal lot can make their own monsters.]
[For a second, the Sin forgets about his smoke.] I had a plan once too, Velvet. But that didn't matter. Eventually, things caught up with me, too. [His lips force themselves into a smile, albeit small in comparison to his usual.] It took nearly 100 years, but it still caught up with me. What makes you think you'll be an exception?
[Velvet sits when commanded. She isn't threatened, but she is thrown off. Still, if she didn't want to sit, she wouldn't. If she didn't want to stay and listen, she wouldn't. But the fear is catching up to her, and the Velvet that doesn't trust anyone but her brother doesn't have her brother at her back this time. She wants, she wants, she wants, and she wants to trust Greed.
But all of the responses Velvet can give to his question, she already knows the response to.
I've done it before. And it blew up right at the last minute.
I thought I wanted it more. More than a guy named Greed? Try again.
I'm different. She's not. That's the whole problem. She's just like every other Rageon, a nobody, a nothing, trying to make something out of stolen talent.
Velvet feels like a child, but not so much scolded. This is worse. Greed's voice isn't judging her like Veneer and Angel's, and that just makes it easier to push her own judgement on herself.]
...He didn't promise anything like that. Or— I mean, I don't believe him, I just needed his magic.
[She says it like she has to pull it out of herself, twisting the handle of her bag between her fingers, staring at the floor like there's nothing better to look at than what's under her feet.]
[Still, that's what he is. Still and quiet with only the pricks of his eyes giving anything away. He's like a viper, waiting it out; a cold-blooded creature feeling the air, her tension, and deciding what, exactly, is the right course of action.]
[If he comes on too harsh, she'll bolt. If he says nothing, it'll sit in that core of his, that demanding core, scratching and clawing inside his skull until it festers and rots into something he doesn't want. And hasn't he always been so selfish? So self-satisfying?]
[Unfortunately, there's nothing satisfying about any of this. And while Velvet tries to wring the neck of her bag, another clump of ash falls from his cigarette, bringing him right back into reality - the drop of it like an hourglass reminding him that time (for others) is such a precious, fleeting thing.]
["...He didn't promise anything like that. Or— I mean, I don't believe him, I just needed his magic."]
[Greed's mouth furrows to a short line.] He didn't? I find that hard to believe. [He hasn't met Valentino in person, but their brief interaction on the network, along with Angel's hinting stories, were enough to give him a good idea of the man. The Sin takes one last drag off his cigarette before he's suddenly upright - his body moving with a swiftness that's less slick and more predatory.]
[He leans over a coffee table shoved between him and Velvet and stamps the butt of his smoke in an ashtray.] You don't have to explain it to me. You lied to get what you want. What, do you think you're the first one of mine who's done that before? [The smear he leaves in the tray is angry in an entirely different way. Bitter may be a better word for it - the black pitch striking short and sticky in the bottom of the bowl.]
[The former homunculus hushes the last dregs of nicotine out from his nose.] I haven't met him, but we've talked. Didn't strike me as the kind of guy to give something away. [And there, there, there's that snake striking out at nothing and going for its own tail. The Sin's voice is rough, growling, but the feeling isn't for Velvet.]
[Greed makes quick work of whatever personal bubble they have going on and his heels beat off the floorboards like gunshots.] He made you an offer you couldn't turn down. Something so good for something so little. Is that it? [He's in front of her now. A looming shadow, a monster, hanging like a nightmare in the closet. Yet, nothing happens. He doesn't touch her, doesn't get too close, doesn't even try. Instead, the former homunculus drops into a crouch.]
[He points at the inner part of his thigh first, trying to get her attention.] If you need to do a lot of damage, you're going to want to start here - [Talking, he runs his claws up the inside of his thigh, mapping out a killer's point of anatomy.] - get in deep enough and he'll bleed out before he can get his hands on you. [His nails move away from his thigh, past his hip, and towards his stomach. He stops.]
Here will hurt, but he'll still get up, and then you'll have to get clever. [Greed drops his gaze from her to follow his hands as he begins pointing and gesturing to the quicker hits.] Think you can do that? [He brings his eyes back to her and lord, if the devil could have sympathy. He knows Velvet and Veneer aren't built for this. They're just kids in the grand scheme of things. Kids chasing the dream, the fame, the glory, and all that it brings.]
[They just never got a chance to meet the real sharks waiting for them in the water.]
[Velvet only gets poutier as Greed talks at first, no doubt ruminating over it all, of how her biggest mistake must have been saying anything and letting this secret get out at all.
But then Greed is— crouching in front of her? And explaining to her... how to harm someone?
All these weird little aliens in heaven and hell have been so different from Rageons— from their customs to their attitudes to their values— and here Greed is, proving he's no exception. There isn't complaint about how bad her decisions are, how she doesn't listen, how she puts herself in these positions. Just, "I know this story, and here's how we rewrite it."
It's weird enough to throw Velvet off just long enough to make her listen. To make her pay attention, whether or not she's ready to accept the truth. Blinking her big ol eyes, she watches Greed lay out his own body like a map.
She'd told Valentino he needed to watch his reputation, she'd heard what Angel had said earlier— but Greed talking about having to fight the guy... just what has she gotten herself into? It's not enough to convince her to stop— it never is— but...
This is all so much more serious than she gave Angel credit for, isn't it?
Well, Valentino has pretty long legs, anyway. Big targets. Velvet can commit this to memory.
Think you can do that? she hears Greed ask.
She lets go of her bag to wiggle her fingers, showing off those brand new claws.]
I mean, what else do I have these for, right?
[She's too tired, too upset, to tack on the apart from looking fabulous that might normally follow that statement. And so she sighs instead, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand.
Would Greed be so kind to her, she wonders, if he realized what kind of nobody she really was before? Like Angel and Veneer clearly knew?]
Of course I can do it.
[Unlike her brother's blatant self-deprecation, Velvet's is sarcastic and coded. She rolls her eyes, her free hand wiggling as one pathetic half of a jazz-hands motion.]
[She shows her claws and all he can do is watch them. Watch them shine off in the glow, watch them take to neon and reflect it back, like a knife drawn just before the plunge. Violence is an old thing for him, one that he was made to do, and something he's done a thousand times over. But that doesn't mean it's his first go-to. Because there's so much worth, so much to have, so much more, and to kill it would be entirely a waste.]
[Some people, though. They need to be taught that, don't they?]
[Greed opens his hand, letting it hover just underneath her claws.] Yeah, you do. But have you ever used them before, like this? [His nails flick out, tracing her fingers inches away; his touch, a ghost's whisper.] I'm not saying it's gunna come to that, and I'm the first one to admit, I'd rather things not get messy, but if you're not ready for it -
[The Sin retracts his fingers, folding them into his hand to make a light fist. He weighs his options. On one hand, this should get her prepared if Valentino's notorious temper ever shows its ugly head. On the other hand, it's another thing to actually do it. And something tells him that Velvet hasn't ever experienced the kind of visceral, split-second decision that comes with maiming a man.]
[He could be wrong. He has been wrong before. But - ]
[Greed tests the bottom of his shirt with his nails.] Can you really do it? [His tone is hushed and vacant as he stands, and his body is uncharacteristically stiff.] I told you before - I'm built different than most. Any other time, I'd take care of it, but there may be a situation where I won't be around. I need to make sure you get back.
[Safe. Alive. These are the words that stick in his throat and choke themselves out.]
[The Sin removes his shirt, tossing it up and over his head. He has no scars, no blemishes, nothing that could ever mark him except that red. The same kind of red as the tattoo on his hand, mapping out pieces of him in lines and circles that are strange, foreign, and alien. He taps a claw to the side of his hip.]
[Velvet may not have come with paw-pads before showing up in hell, but the softness of those paws is even truer to how delicate rageons can be than their own rubber bodies. Those bodies weren't made for brute force, and Greed is right to assume that Velvet's probably never actually had to do much defending, save for maybe throwing rocks at anyone who spoke the wrong way to Veneer.
So when he asks if she can really do it, Velvet pouts just a little at Greed— but then he's before her and—
Oh he is removing his clothes.
What?
Velvet squints at Greed as though maybe she's not seeing him properly. But no, he is actually pulling his shirt off, and his body is so very human— and in that, even more alien to Velvet than just those circles. Still, there is something so intimate about that, so jarring, that it seems to short circuit Velvet.]
...Hah?
[An unattractive little honk of confusion. Velvet raises a brow.]
You want me to— you want me to hurt you. Like— on your body.
[Well, yes, Velvet, as opposed to where else...?
She's drained a troll nearly to death before, but tearing through someone... That's something else, isn't it? Even Velvet becomes unsure for a moment, when the reality of Greed's request sets in.
She draws her hands to her chest, claws curling in.]
I mean— it wouldn't be the same, right? I don't want to hurt you.
[A hint of cool disregard takes over his face. It's so unlike his usual: the vacancy in his eyes, the heaviness in his brow, the way his mouth holds onto the weight of a frown and stays there. Greed closes his eyes and skates two of his claws just underneath the line of ink following his hip.]
You won't hurt me. Not like you think. [That smile of his tries its very best, but it's exhausted in a whole different way. Like the wee hours of the morning making an effort to stay awake.] I told you when we met that I'm built different. And you've known me long enough now to understand that I'm not lying. Just make it count.
[With his other hand, he reaches out, opening his fingers into a flat palm.] I promise, I won't hold it against you. Just close your eyes and pretend - [The rest of him leers in. He throws his other hands behind her, pinning them on the backside of the couch to make him hover over her. He's eating all the space she'll give him - pushing the limits, the boundaries, for one thing and one thing only.]
[If she chokes now, she's a goner later. Better to do it with someone who won't fight back.]
[Greed stares daggers at the wall in front of him, but his voice comes out with the same sing-song slur, the same hum, as before.] - pretend this is it. Your one shot. You won't have another. [He relaxes his torso and the last threads of that second skin disappear under the lip of his pants. He's letting it all down: his boundaries, his defenses, his 'Shield. It isn't the first time he's done this, not by a long shot. But how many times will he have to, how many times will this same story play out, time after time, again and again?]
[The Sin's face goes cold and blank.]
[In the end, it doesn't matter. There's a cost to doing business, and then there's the cost of living. He has the luxury of both in spades.]
[And this price tag? Well, it's one he's willing to pay out for.]
[Greed probably has noticed already from watching Veneer that Rageons aren't really even built for their own defense. They're meant to slip away when they can, to evade, not to rip and tear. But hell has blessed Velvet with a new form and a new instinct.
When she sees that expression on Greed's face, Velvet shrinks just a little. Her own idealism has Greed built up in her mind, and seeing him with an expression that feels so dark and cold gets her tail puffed up in a defensive display. But Greed is able to get a surprising amount of space out of her— she presses back into the couch as he draws closer, eyes open as wide as they can go, but doesn't reach out to stop him just yet.
She has never noticed, really, how much not really standing taller than her doesn't make Greed not bigger than her. It'd never been on her mind, not since the first time they'd met. But he is big and he is strong and for once since then, watching as Greed changes before her, Velvet realizes that perhaps there have been reasons to fear him, after all. But more than that;
Greed is so serious.
He is so deadly serious right now, because Valentino is a real and true threat.
Valentino is a threat and she has fucked up so bad.
She has fucked up so bad, and if the others figure out she's fucked up, it will all fall apart. Velvet will fail again, and everyone will judge her, and Veneer will betray her, and Greed will look at her with the face he is looking at her with now.
But Velvet doesn't like to lose. And she doesn't know when to stop. And even when she hurts, even when she doesn't believe in herself, even when she can see for herself how wrong she's gone, Velvet refuses to give up until she is stopped.
Just close your eyes and pretend this is it.
Velvet's wide eyes shut tight, her pink nose wrinkles, her lips screw up in a timid pout. She can feel Greed's breath near her face, can feel the pressure of the seat giving beneath his hands and behind her— closing her eyes makes him no less threatening.
She can imagine it because she has always been desperate. Desperation is not foreign to her. She can summon that need, that desire— except now it's stronger than ever, because the desire not to lose is coupled with the desire not to be turned away. Velvet is desperate, and she desires, and she wants.
And she wants to win, and to have, and to keep.
Velvet knows just what to think of for her 'last shot'. In the darkness past her eyes, she watches a dark hand reach out for her.
Her eyes snap open and Velvet hisses, loud and animalistic, her hair and fur all puffing along with her tail. Her bendy body makes it easy for her to curl deeper into herself like a cornered mustelid, like a coiling snake, and using that pent up energy she's able to get a better swing at Greed.
Even if Velvet was stronger than the average Rageon, she doesn't have the body weight to knock a humanoid as big as Greed away from her. Pushing him back with her claws isn't even on her mind. Instead she leans her head toward him as if to distract him with her growling and hissing, slamming her hands against his torso underneath his ribcage on both sides.
Her claws plunge into his skin as she grips him tight, and once she's dug them in, Velvet twists her legs together and hops her butt off the couch seat just a bit. This leverage allows her to slip between Greed's legs, and while she does that, she rakes those gold-painted claws down, down, down, tearing through flesh that is so soft and so unlike her own, letting go only once her hands make contact with his belt.
Out from under Greed's legs, Velvet scurries behind him and growls and curls defensively again like a cat, a motion completely foreign to her rageon body but completely natural to this one. ]
[Death didn't take away his ability to sense pain, it's just been some time since he's experienced it. Velvet's claws go through him like a lightning bolt. He can feel the muscle tear, the hot course of blood pouring over his legs, so visceral and base. Greed's eyes widen. As much as he isn't human, in the moment, there's something so normal about his reaction; like he's flashing through the entirety of his 200 years of life while stars and thermal whites flare blind across his vision.]
[The Sin's knees drop to the floor with a haunting thud. Already, a good amount of blood is beginning to form under him. It takes on a color like deep-red wine, spreading across the bar and sinking into the wood floor as if the whole building's been waiting for a chance to taste him.]
[A drool of blood and spit squeezes between the cracks of his teeth. There's a noise trapped in his throat, his mouth, and his chest that gurgles as horrible as wet, rotting plastic popping in a scummy pond. Greed's head bows, letting drips and drops meet the growing puddle; each tpp, tpp, tpp forcing thick ripples across the surface.]
[She's killed him. Or (at least), she's brought him very, very close. And for a while, it almost seems like it's going to be the former.]
[But then something hisses, electricity pops, and a whole new horror show begins to unfold.]
[Red currents spit out from Velvet's inflicted wounds - their sound buzzing as harsh as a den of snakes woken from a slumber. It's the look of them, though. The look of them. They're angry, violent, and oh-so-wrong in a way that's a warning: he's not human. Not a Rageon, not a ghost, not even a demon. No, he's something else entirely, a wicked thing. A creature that shouldn't even exist.]
[Greed's boots stumble through the blood on the floor, smearing it in thin streaks that slosh outwards like an oil spill. His body sways as it catches up and all the while, his skin starts to piece itself back together again. The same, blistering electricity touching each nerve in an infection of static.]
Ah ... Ahhgh .. [The Sin breaks his silence as his hands feel himself out. Over his hips and down his torso, they go - the strings of tendons and muscle flattening clean as he passes. He fans his palms along his throat.] Now, that's how you kill a man - [His tone shouldn't sound so jovial. Yet there's relief, a kind of palpable relief, and the former homunculus gingerly turns, revealing the last moments when the cuts sew themselves shut.]
[In the end, it's like nothing's happened at all. There's no scar, no gouges, no ribbons of flesh dangling from his stomach. Rather, the only thing that remains of the whole ordeal is the pool of blood below him. It's reflection a memory of her deed, deep and vicious.]
[Greed rubs the back of his head.] Still taking longer than I'd like. [He makes his way towards Velvet and his eyes feel her out.] Hey, hey. It's all over, Vel. It's just me. [He slows down, leaving prints of blood in the shape of his heels behind him.] C'mon, look at me, huh? I'm not mad. I told you to do it, and you did it. [The Sin grabs his shirt now that the threat is over and hooks it in his claws.] And you did good. Actually, better than that. Looks like that new body of yours has its worth, doesn't it?
[He's talking just to get her back; to bring her back from that terrible moment. The chimeras had been similar in a way. The fear in the beginning mixed with the animal instinct to fight, flee, or both. Greed stops short of her and touches his collarbone.] I noticed you kept the lock. [His smile goes soft on his face.] Remember it if you ever have to do that again. The world's ours, Velvet. I don't give a shit what this Valentino thinks.
[A single drop of gore rolls of his shoe. Greed's leering now, yet it isn't with the same chill as before. No, he's assessing her for damage, physical or otherwise. Killing someone isn't easy. Killing someone close is even harder. The Sin's eyebrows settle and when he talks again, his voice is a low rumble in his chest.]
You're one of mine. And I don't let anyone take what's mine.
[There is a feeling completely unfamiliar to Velvet at the sight of all that blood.
At first it doesn't entirely process. That isn't what blood looks like for Rageons or even Trolls— so dark and serious and cold of a red. But when everything clicks, a feeling burns in that minky-demon brain.
Success. A successful hunt. A successful kill. It's a wave of satisfaction that's cut off all too quick by the strange way Greed's once-dying body begins to crackle and spark and move and regenerate. Velvet and her terrible little mink brain become threatened once again. Her eyes turn the shade of hot pink her irises are all the way to the edge, leaving no sign of the once-yellow sclera, and her horns get larger, sharper. Her blood-covered claws form more perfect arcs as the reanimated Greed steps closer and closer still, his words falling on deaf ears for just a moment. She doesn't care if he isn't mad, she's scared— she can't believe what's just happened—
And then— the lock. Yes, that's right, her treasure from their first night seizing this world. Alien though Greed may be to her, he has won Velvet's trust. He's done it more than anyone else has, as far as she's concerned. Velvet's fur begins to flatten, her hissing and growling quieting, and she curls into herself a little as she becomes less and less threatening.
And I don't let anyone take what's mine.
He's believed in her, and believed in her, and believed her. And she is a treasure of his. It doesn't matter how many treasures he comes to have— she is one, and he is one of hers.
Velvet takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and quickly stands in front of Greed.
She lifts her hands, drops them on his shoulders, and opens her eyes— the normal ones, the ones from this body anyway, that he knows well. She looks into his, carefully, contemplatively, and takes another breath.
She smiles for just a moment.
And then, shaking Greed by the shoulders, Velvet absolutely screams.]
[He thinks (in the moment when the animal takes over and the rage is so thick, he can almost feel it) that this'll be it. That she'll tear through him again, rip him apart, and spit his bones out as her final curtain call. Because she didn't ask for this. She didn't ask to be looped into a game even he didn't know he was playing. That's the thing with men like him. With men like him, like Valentino, like all the devils and angels alike. They're lords of their own domains, be it for better or for worse. It shouldn't shock anyone that, at some point or another, they'd butt heads.]
[She smiles, and Greed stays still. She smiles, and his core goes tight in his chest.]
["If you turn your back on something you wanted, then you don't deserve to call yourself Greed!"]
[Thankfully though, she breaks his thoughts. Shatters them. And now she's shaking him, screaming, and the former homunculus quickly shoots his arms above his head.] Hey, hey - ! I did tell you I'm built stronger than most - ! [His pleas die under her volume and he just lets her have at it. Better to get it out and scream at a wall that will always listen.]
[When he gets a second, Greed lowers his hands to hang about her shoulders. Again, leaving space enough between them.] I'm fine, Velvet. Might be sore for a bit while the 'Stone's still slow, but I'm fine. Can't hurt me that easy, remember?
[Mouth pursed up into a teeny little pout, Velvet listens to Greed's reasoning— and then rolls her eyes, dissatisfied. Apparently unphased by their closeness, by Greed's touch, Velvet takes her bloodied hands and grabs Greed's face like she would Veneer's when they were kids and starts tugging at his cheeks.]
Yeah? Yeah? Sure sounded like it hurt to me!
Does this hurt?! Huh?!
[Sorry, Greed, she'll... she'll calm down in a bit—]
[There's hands on his face, fingers near his mouth, and the Sin takes it all. She's yelling, but it's a yelling that means she's with it. She's aware of the situation, of what's happened, and now. Now - ]
[Greed's whine is rough, deep.] Ooi, oii - [He's trying to talk the best he can, but he isn't made of rubber. He's as stiff and solid as a brick.] - I can-th still feel pain. Just doesn-th las-th like most.
[He places his hands on her wrists to try to pull her off. But he's laughing. Laughing in a way that bubbles up from his chest and breathes a new kind of fire into his core.] C'mon, don't take it so personally. I figured this was the best way to make sure. And be careful with my face - it's a good one.
[Velvet lets Greed pry her hands away by the wrists, staring him down with such a pout. But then she breathes out another sigh, and lets it go.
She was afraid, and now she isn't. Everything is fine, and this person who has become important to her isn't looking at her with that cold look anymore, isn't on the floor— god he is still covered in blood, though, and as Velvet looks at her hands she realizes— yeah, yeah, so is she. Gross.]
...You're lucky it's a good face.
[She tilts her head up, not exactly smug, but putting back on her metaphorical princess crown, which is in no way also a convenient means of not looking at Greed's smile and being cowed by his laughter. She's still definitely offended, after all, just look at her.]
And since you were so worried about me, then I can leave the cleanup to you.
[She wiggles her fingers at him, still in his grasp. Velvet is definitely absolutely implying she means to make him also wash blood off her hands.
Her dignified act only carries so far, though, as her voice gets just a little meeker when she adds;]
....And you don't have to worry so much. 'Cos I can do it.
I can do whatever needs to be done.
[With her head tilted imploringly, her eyes the softest they've been for him, a rare sight of softness at all—]
Nothing is taking me out of your plans.
[The corner of her mouth lifts, her little minky ear twitches— and she takes one hand away from him to boop his nose with a paw pad and leave a little red smear.]
I am, aren't I? Not so bad usually. [He's grinning because, well. This is better, isn't it? The tense moment gone, the usual confidence that tends to come with him slowly crawls back into his shoulders, his back. It's easy for him to move past things once the smoke has all cleared.]
[And she's back to her status quo too, isn't she? Wearing her crown with her head held high and oh, should the world watch out.]
[Greed rolls his eyes to the ceiling and his mouth tightens into a soft, sarcastic sneer.] So demanding. When did you get to be such a pissant? [He says it in a way that's friendly; as if she's been one of his for years and years and years. The former homunculus wafts a hand in front of his face.] Yeah, yeah. Let's get this cleaned up.
[There are bathrooms in the 'Nest, and that's where he starts. They're far enough away from all the blood and bad times that they can be easily forgotten for now. Greed hums and as he pinches his nose to try to wipe away a smear, his gait takes on a lazy drawl.] Now I know you can. Don't do it unless you have to. You'll surprise 'em better that way.
[He gets to the bathroom and reaches out to flick the switch. The bulb above takes a second or two to find itself; its rapid clicks sounding off as the connection sets. The Sin waves his hand to her.] Have a seat, Vel.
[Using his tail, he turns a knob on the faucet.] I wouldn't let anything take you out of my plans anyway. Not unless you told me to. [The water runs soft at first, then faster when he yanks the side for hot.] My avarice wouldn't let me.
You should know by now exactly how demanding I can be.
[Especially since he just lets her. It's one of the things she likes about him. She can play her little game, make herself feel important— and there he is with that sharp-toothed smile. It's comforting, even now.
She sits, as directed, eyeing Greed carefully as she listens to him. Not out of fear, no, she really is over it all— she'll think about the sight she's seen later, but everything turned out alright, didn't it? No, her concern comes in a somewhat hesitant question—]
Is that why you're not mad at me?
Avarice?
[It's not a word she's heard often, but it's one she likes. It's one a Rageon would like.]
[Greed grabs a towel off a poorly mounted rack on the wall. He slides it under the running faucet, letting it saturate before slapping some soap onto it and wringing it out. She's really asking the big questions, isn't she? But he shouldn't be surprised. Velvet's never been one to hold anything back.]
[The Sin bends down in front of her and sticks his foot out behind him.] Didn't think you'd ask that question, so I might not have a good answer. [Soft creases play at the corners of his eyes. In the gloom of the bathroom's yellowed light, the shadows on his face grow and sink into all his angular points.] My avarice runs deep, Velvet. I want everything you can think of. Money - [He hums as he takes her fingers and gently begins to rub away his gore.] - women, sex, status, glory. There's nothing that could stop me from wanting it all. Not even death.
[His smile is pleasant, dim, and sincere. The big bad wolf indeed brought down to a humble.]
[The former homunculus shifts the towel, moving it to the underside of her hand.] Doesn't really answer your question, though. [That grin of his stays, but his gaze tells a different story. Something's there. Something buried, something festering. Greed rubs a little bit at a stubborn spot and swallows away the thought.] You don't think this if the first place I've had, do you? There were people before you. People who made plenty of mistakes.
I never turned them away, and I'm not about to start. So you got yourself tangled in some shit. So what. [He checks her fingers by trying to force his thumb through them one at a time.] If I held that against you, I'd be a fucking hypocrite.
[Velvet's hands respond to Greed's, allowing him to do as he needs. Her paw pads aren't exactly like skin— just a little too perfect and too plush, considering they're just as rubber as the rest of her. She spreads her fingers out when he checks, turning them over. She's gotten used to it herself, but those claws being attached to her hands is actually new.
She lets him talk and watches his face, and some small part of her realizes that she hasn't really watched anyone like this before, hasn't particularly endeavored to look outside her double-edged mirror. Noticing things at all about Greed like this is new to her, anyway. He isn't one of the two people she's devoted her life to knowing— herself, and her version of Veneer.
It's times like this he actually looks like some kind of ageless being to her. It's not the way his eyes glimmer in the dark, or his demonlike stature— she isn't unaware of magical things or even scary ones. But it's this face like Greed knows something Velvet couldn't even hope to understand that really makes her believe him.
No, of course she believes him.
He isn't a liar, like her, and for one of the first times, Velvet doesn't actually feel good about it.
She stares back at their hands again— no, not at her own, but at Greed's. At his sharp claws, at the dark carbon color that contrasts so fully with her gleaming white fur, claws that could tear her and yet are being so, so gentle. That aren't letting her go or telling her to get away or that she isn't enough, isn't right, shouldn't be here.
A sigh. It's always so obvious when Velvet pouts, with her lips the way they are, even when they're absent of paint and just the same white as the rest of her.]
Veneer— kicked me out, until tomorrow. And Angel—
[Another sigh, and Velvet almost brings her free hand to rub her temple before she catches sight of it again and thinks better of it.]
I... might have... maybe yelled at him a little.
[It's not like Greed has to be gracious with her. She doesn't expect Angel to be, either. Veneer— Veneer...
Well, he always forgives her. It's what he's supposed to do. But Greed doesn't have that expectation, and something pulls at Velvet's brain, making her want to test him with the truth. If he knew, if he knows, the kind of person she really is— will he still want her in this world of his?]
I'm just saying, you wouldn't be the only person who has a problem with me tonight.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Greed shakes out a smoke. He tosses it into the corner of his mouth a second later and his other hand flips out a matchbox from his back pocket; its contents rattling as bare as bones.]
[He pauses.] Ah, right. Probably not a good idea to do this in front of you, huh? [He levels the matches between two of his fingers.] C'mon, let's head up top. Don't need to ruin your voice before opening day. [Greed motions towards the stairs, but pauses at the foot of them when she continues.]
[Now, that's a thing to say.]
No, you never need a reason. [The Sin's watching her now. He has no idea what's happened: the deals, the fights, the bitterness.] I'd never deny your company, Vel. Just figured you'd be a bit too busy making a name for yourself to just stop by.
[He drops a hand, spreading his fingers. It's a silent gesture; a wordless offer:]
["Why don't you come along with me, then?"]
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What is his secret, she wonders? What makes a person feel that way, entirely, confidently, to their very core? That Greed never has to lie about who or what he is or what he does? She's jealous of it.
She reaches up and toward him, taking his hand, using it to pull herself up and toward him.]
My name makes itself,
[She insists, putting on a cool smile, newly-gilded tooth glimmering in the reflections of neon.]
So I'm never too busy for you.
[The emphasis is on You. Greed is different, and in a way she wants him to know this, wants him to have some little bit of power over that, wants him to hold it like she's given him something secret. Trust. Admiration. Jealousy. A special little place in her heart once occupied by just her brother, but still compartmentalized and controlled— and yet that manages to wrench a bit of truth from her.]
I wanted to see you.
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[It's funny in a way: how they made it here. How a night on the town, fresh out of a promise of nothing, could bring them together so simply. Velvet was his first in the grand scheme of things. The first to say yes, the first to take his offer without a single hint of hesitation. Greed helps her upright with little effort; his half-hooded eyes like smoke trailing a long, sleepless night.]
It does. You know how to grab the lights and bring 'em all to ya. That's all a part of the show. [The Sin lets go of her hand to sink his thumb into the lip of his pants.] Met a few like you over the years. People who made the whole world their stage. You can see them a million miles away. [They had been different than Velvet in the fact that they'd been human. And with that humanity came a time limit. Sure, they'd make their mark on the world, leave their names to the history books. But it ended there, didn't it? The days, the months, the years passing them by with only their names and songs as ghosts to remember them.]
[The former homunculus begins heading up the stairs.] Couldn't help but notice that you've added a little bit since the last time we saw each other. [Clueless about the situation, he's still all sharp smiles as he spins his wrist casually at his side.] Did you do that yourself? It's not too bad. Kind of reminds of someone else I've met.
[He doesn't put the pieces together. Angel has a gold tooth too, but that could just be a celebrity thing. A trend to keep up with the pace.]
[Greed makes it to the top step with a soft clp of his heels.] Never been too good at keeping up with certain trends myself. Always just go with what I want at the time. [Which often puts him at odds with society's norms. Not that it seems to matter in Hell: he fits right in.]
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She lies all the time, but Greed never has to. It makes a part of her want to be more truthful, but it's a part she doesn't really trust yet. Still— she follows him, watching his hands, that are so different than hers and from a human's. (And why is that so interesting?)]
You mean Angel, right?
[A dissatisfied sigh.]
I got a second job, but it turns out that some people have a weird idea for what counts as a uniform.
So, yeah, I guess he and I match, now.
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[It's these hours that are usually a bit more personal, and tonight's no exception. The Sin cups his smoke with two of his hands and strikes a match on the back of his heel just as she drops that particular bit of information. And the pieces (some of them anyway) gradually come together.]
["Yeah mean Angel, right? ... I guess he and I match, now."]
[The match burns dangerously between his claws, threatening to eat at his skin before he brings it silently to the tip of his cigarette. A couple of brisk, ticking sucks at the corner of his mouth lights it. Life, he's found, never comes without a catch or two. And his, well - they've always been on the raw side of it, haven't they? Even here, in this afterlife, that fact hasn't changed. Each of them has their own story for sure, but that doesn't mean a certain pattern hasn't emerged. A pattern he'll always follow, always run his fingers on, to chase it down, down, down.]
[Because his are just the type. The outcasts, the freaks, the underdogs consistently finding themselves right on the fault line of things.]
[Greed drops the match and crushes it with his heel.] Let me guess - the guy's name is Valentino, right? [He leaves his back exposed to Velvet, yet his tone: it's much more hushed than before; like freon leaking out of a broken line. He isn't mad, no. But he's thinking, weighing the options. Everything Angel's said about the man doesn't paint him in a good light, and their brief conversation on the network had been all sharp smiles and sharper promises.]
[The Sin pinches his smoke between two of his fingers to pull it out of his mouth and drop it by the side of his leg. He waves a hand over his shoulder.] Sit with me a second, huh? I'm not mad. [He offers Velvet the lightest of smiles and ah, does it show his age. Not in wrinkles or grays, oh no. But in those eyes of his. The way they seem to look right through her, reading her soul, seeing her price, in the shadow of the door.] I told you before. Whatever you do with your life is your choice. I'm not about to get in the way of that. But I think we should get a plan together in case things turn ugly.
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The defensiveness still comes, bubbling out as a—]
I— I was just gonna use him—
[But then it hits her—
use him for what? She'd have to give context, wouldn't she?
She is made of lies and she has lied and lied and lied and not prepared for this particular one. No— what she didn't prepare for was finding someone it didn't feel good to lie to, and in doing so be faced with the truth herself.
She is delusional, but not without limits. Unfortunately those limits come with a need to defend herself from things Greed hasn't said— hasn't so much as even implied. In rare form, she babbles almost like her brother, when usually he's the one modelling her.]
I didn't know he was— I mean, I'm not stupid, I'm going to come up with a plan— I— I had a plan, actually! And I know that— that Angel and Veneer think I can't do it, but I had! A plan!
[Even her fur bristles; the normally unphased Velvet is clearly distressed. But it's not Greed she's forming a defense against, of course— it's the voice of defeat in her own head, taking the shape of two people whose opinions she's come to value more than she's ready to admit.]
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[And she still very well could. But part of him, a small part he tries to ignore, hopes that it won't come to that.]
[The Sin brings his hand to his face, smothering his mouth with his fingers as he takes in the nicotine as hard as he can; the scorch of it, a mild distraction.] Were you? Did he promise you everything with all that fucking sweet talk? You're not that dense, Velvet. [It sounds harsher than he means, but it's honest.] I know you're going to come up with something, but that something may come a little too late. I want you to be ready for it. [He throws his elbow over the arm of the couch to ash his cigarette to the floor.]
[He's seen this story a thousand times over, and he knows how it ends. There's no fairy-tale singalong to close it out, no knight to come rescue the damsel from the dragon. Far from it. Rather, it'll be told in bruises that never quite get a chance to heal, lips that are always and forever cracked down the middle, tears cried lonely in the middle of the night. It's not his world, yet the rules haven't changed.]
[And sometimes he knows that, even without him or his siblings, the mortal lot can make their own monsters.]
[For a second, the Sin forgets about his smoke.] I had a plan once too, Velvet. But that didn't matter. Eventually, things caught up with me, too. [His lips force themselves into a smile, albeit small in comparison to his usual.] It took nearly 100 years, but it still caught up with me. What makes you think you'll be an exception?
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But all of the responses Velvet can give to his question, she already knows the response to.
I've done it before.
And it blew up right at the last minute.
I thought I wanted it more.
More than a guy named Greed? Try again.
I'm different.
She's not. That's the whole problem. She's just like every other Rageon, a nobody, a nothing, trying to make something out of stolen talent.
Velvet feels like a child, but not so much scolded. This is worse. Greed's voice isn't judging her like Veneer and Angel's, and that just makes it easier to push her own judgement on herself.]
...He didn't promise anything like that. Or— I mean, I don't believe him, I just needed his magic.
[She says it like she has to pull it out of herself, twisting the handle of her bag between her fingers, staring at the floor like there's nothing better to look at than what's under her feet.]
I lied to him to get what I wanted.
[Nobody believes her, either, she's sure. She's having trouble believing herself.]
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[If he comes on too harsh, she'll bolt. If he says nothing, it'll sit in that core of his, that demanding core, scratching and clawing inside his skull until it festers and rots into something he doesn't want. And hasn't he always been so selfish? So self-satisfying?]
[Unfortunately, there's nothing satisfying about any of this. And while Velvet tries to wring the neck of her bag, another clump of ash falls from his cigarette, bringing him right back into reality - the drop of it like an hourglass reminding him that time (for others) is such a precious, fleeting thing.]
["...He didn't promise anything like that. Or— I mean, I don't believe him, I just needed his magic."]
[Greed's mouth furrows to a short line.] He didn't? I find that hard to believe. [He hasn't met Valentino in person, but their brief interaction on the network, along with Angel's hinting stories, were enough to give him a good idea of the man. The Sin takes one last drag off his cigarette before he's suddenly upright - his body moving with a swiftness that's less slick and more predatory.]
[He leans over a coffee table shoved between him and Velvet and stamps the butt of his smoke in an ashtray.] You don't have to explain it to me. You lied to get what you want. What, do you think you're the first one of mine who's done that before? [The smear he leaves in the tray is angry in an entirely different way. Bitter may be a better word for it - the black pitch striking short and sticky in the bottom of the bowl.]
[The former homunculus hushes the last dregs of nicotine out from his nose.] I haven't met him, but we've talked. Didn't strike me as the kind of guy to give something away. [And there, there, there's that snake striking out at nothing and going for its own tail. The Sin's voice is rough, growling, but the feeling isn't for Velvet.]
[Greed makes quick work of whatever personal bubble they have going on and his heels beat off the floorboards like gunshots.] He made you an offer you couldn't turn down. Something so good for something so little. Is that it? [He's in front of her now. A looming shadow, a monster, hanging like a nightmare in the closet. Yet, nothing happens. He doesn't touch her, doesn't get too close, doesn't even try. Instead, the former homunculus drops into a crouch.]
[He points at the inner part of his thigh first, trying to get her attention.] If you need to do a lot of damage, you're going to want to start here - [Talking, he runs his claws up the inside of his thigh, mapping out a killer's point of anatomy.] - get in deep enough and he'll bleed out before he can get his hands on you. [His nails move away from his thigh, past his hip, and towards his stomach. He stops.]
Here will hurt, but he'll still get up, and then you'll have to get clever. [Greed drops his gaze from her to follow his hands as he begins pointing and gesturing to the quicker hits.] Think you can do that? [He brings his eyes back to her and lord, if the devil could have sympathy. He knows Velvet and Veneer aren't built for this. They're just kids in the grand scheme of things. Kids chasing the dream, the fame, the glory, and all that it brings.]
[They just never got a chance to meet the real sharks waiting for them in the water.]
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But then Greed is— crouching in front of her? And explaining to her... how to harm someone?
All these weird little aliens in heaven and hell have been so different from Rageons— from their customs to their attitudes to their values— and here Greed is, proving he's no exception. There isn't complaint about how bad her decisions are, how she doesn't listen, how she puts herself in these positions. Just, "I know this story, and here's how we rewrite it."
It's weird enough to throw Velvet off just long enough to make her listen. To make her pay attention, whether or not she's ready to accept the truth. Blinking her big ol eyes, she watches Greed lay out his own body like a map.
She'd told Valentino he needed to watch his reputation, she'd heard what Angel had said earlier— but Greed talking about having to fight the guy... just what has she gotten herself into? It's not enough to convince her to stop— it never is— but...
This is all so much more serious than she gave Angel credit for, isn't it?
Well, Valentino has pretty long legs, anyway. Big targets. Velvet can commit this to memory.
Think you can do that? she hears Greed ask.
She lets go of her bag to wiggle her fingers, showing off those brand new claws.]
I mean, what else do I have these for, right?
[She's too tired, too upset, to tack on the apart from looking fabulous that might normally follow that statement. And so she sighs instead, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand.
Would Greed be so kind to her, she wonders, if he realized what kind of nobody she really was before? Like Angel and Veneer clearly knew?]
Of course I can do it.
[Unlike her brother's blatant self-deprecation, Velvet's is sarcastic and coded. She rolls her eyes, her free hand wiggling as one pathetic half of a jazz-hands motion.]
What can't I do?
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[Some people, though. They need to be taught that, don't they?]
[Greed opens his hand, letting it hover just underneath her claws.] Yeah, you do. But have you ever used them before, like this? [His nails flick out, tracing her fingers inches away; his touch, a ghost's whisper.] I'm not saying it's gunna come to that, and I'm the first one to admit, I'd rather things not get messy, but if you're not ready for it -
[The Sin retracts his fingers, folding them into his hand to make a light fist. He weighs his options. On one hand, this should get her prepared if Valentino's notorious temper ever shows its ugly head. On the other hand, it's another thing to actually do it. And something tells him that Velvet hasn't ever experienced the kind of visceral, split-second decision that comes with maiming a man.]
[He could be wrong. He has been wrong before. But - ]
[Greed tests the bottom of his shirt with his nails.] Can you really do it? [His tone is hushed and vacant as he stands, and his body is uncharacteristically stiff.] I told you before - I'm built different than most. Any other time, I'd take care of it, but there may be a situation where I won't be around. I need to make sure you get back.
[Safe. Alive. These are the words that stick in his throat and choke themselves out.]
[The Sin removes his shirt, tossing it up and over his head. He has no scars, no blemishes, nothing that could ever mark him except that red. The same kind of red as the tattoo on his hand, mapping out pieces of him in lines and circles that are strange, foreign, and alien. He taps a claw to the side of his hip.]
Show me.
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So when he asks if she can really do it, Velvet pouts just a little at Greed— but then he's before her and—
Oh he is removing his clothes.
What?
Velvet squints at Greed as though maybe she's not seeing him properly. But no, he is actually pulling his shirt off, and his body is so very human— and in that, even more alien to Velvet than just those circles. Still, there is something so intimate about that, so jarring, that it seems to short circuit Velvet.]
...Hah?
[An unattractive little honk of confusion. Velvet raises a brow.]
You want me to— you want me to hurt you. Like— on your body.
[Well, yes, Velvet, as opposed to where else...?
She's drained a troll nearly to death before, but tearing through someone... That's something else, isn't it? Even Velvet becomes unsure for a moment, when the reality of Greed's request sets in.
She draws her hands to her chest, claws curling in.]
I mean— it wouldn't be the same, right? I don't want to hurt you.
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You won't hurt me. Not like you think. [That smile of his tries its very best, but it's exhausted in a whole different way. Like the wee hours of the morning making an effort to stay awake.] I told you when we met that I'm built different. And you've known me long enough now to understand that I'm not lying. Just make it count.
[With his other hand, he reaches out, opening his fingers into a flat palm.] I promise, I won't hold it against you. Just close your eyes and pretend - [The rest of him leers in. He throws his other hands behind her, pinning them on the backside of the couch to make him hover over her. He's eating all the space she'll give him - pushing the limits, the boundaries, for one thing and one thing only.]
[If she chokes now, she's a goner later. Better to do it with someone who won't fight back.]
[Greed stares daggers at the wall in front of him, but his voice comes out with the same sing-song slur, the same hum, as before.] - pretend this is it. Your one shot. You won't have another. [He relaxes his torso and the last threads of that second skin disappear under the lip of his pants. He's letting it all down: his boundaries, his defenses, his 'Shield. It isn't the first time he's done this, not by a long shot. But how many times will he have to, how many times will this same story play out, time after time, again and again?]
[The Sin's face goes cold and blank.]
[In the end, it doesn't matter. There's a cost to doing business, and then there's the cost of living. He has the luxury of both in spades.]
[And this price tag? Well, it's one he's willing to pay out for.]
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When she sees that expression on Greed's face, Velvet shrinks just a little. Her own idealism has Greed built up in her mind, and seeing him with an expression that feels so dark and cold gets her tail puffed up in a defensive display. But Greed is able to get a surprising amount of space out of her— she presses back into the couch as he draws closer, eyes open as wide as they can go, but doesn't reach out to stop him just yet.
She has never noticed, really, how much not really standing taller than her doesn't make Greed not bigger than her. It'd never been on her mind, not since the first time they'd met. But he is big and he is strong and for once since then, watching as Greed changes before her, Velvet realizes that perhaps there have been reasons to fear him, after all. But more than that;
Greed is so serious.
He is so deadly serious right now, because Valentino is a real and true threat.
Valentino is a threat and she has fucked up so bad.
She has fucked up so bad, and if the others figure out she's fucked up, it will all fall apart. Velvet will fail again, and everyone will judge her, and Veneer will betray her, and Greed will look at her with the face he is looking at her with now.
But Velvet doesn't like to lose. And she doesn't know when to stop. And even when she hurts, even when she doesn't believe in herself, even when she can see for herself how wrong she's gone, Velvet refuses to give up until she is stopped.
Just close your eyes and pretend this is it.
Velvet's wide eyes shut tight, her pink nose wrinkles, her lips screw up in a timid pout. She can feel Greed's breath near her face, can feel the pressure of the seat giving beneath his hands and behind her— closing her eyes makes him no less threatening.
She can imagine it because she has always been desperate. Desperation is not foreign to her. She can summon that need, that desire— except now it's stronger than ever, because the desire not to lose is coupled with the desire not to be turned away. Velvet is desperate, and she desires, and she wants.
And she wants to win, and to have, and to keep.
Velvet knows just what to think of for her 'last shot'. In the darkness past her eyes, she watches a dark hand reach out for her.
Her eyes snap open and Velvet hisses, loud and animalistic, her hair and fur all puffing along with her tail. Her bendy body makes it easy for her to curl deeper into herself like a cornered mustelid, like a coiling snake, and using that pent up energy she's able to get a better swing at Greed.
Even if Velvet was stronger than the average Rageon, she doesn't have the body weight to knock a humanoid as big as Greed away from her. Pushing him back with her claws isn't even on her mind. Instead she leans her head toward him as if to distract him with her growling and hissing, slamming her hands against his torso underneath his ribcage on both sides.
Her claws plunge into his skin as she grips him tight, and once she's dug them in, Velvet twists her legs together and hops her butt off the couch seat just a bit. This leverage allows her to slip between Greed's legs, and while she does that, she rakes those gold-painted claws down, down, down, tearing through flesh that is so soft and so unlike her own, letting go only once her hands make contact with his belt.
Out from under Greed's legs, Velvet scurries behind him and growls and curls defensively again like a cat, a motion completely foreign to her rageon body but completely natural to this one. ]
1/2 - CW: Gore, Blood. This Ain't Pretty
[The Sin's knees drop to the floor with a haunting thud. Already, a good amount of blood is beginning to form under him. It takes on a color like deep-red wine, spreading across the bar and sinking into the wood floor as if the whole building's been waiting for a chance to taste him.]
[A drool of blood and spit squeezes between the cracks of his teeth. There's a noise trapped in his throat, his mouth, and his chest that gurgles as horrible as wet, rotting plastic popping in a scummy pond. Greed's head bows, letting drips and drops meet the growing puddle; each tpp, tpp, tpp forcing thick ripples across the surface.]
[She's killed him. Or (at least), she's brought him very, very close. And for a while, it almost seems like it's going to be the former.]
[But then something hisses, electricity pops, and a whole new horror show begins to unfold.]
2/2
[Greed's boots stumble through the blood on the floor, smearing it in thin streaks that slosh outwards like an oil spill. His body sways as it catches up and all the while, his skin starts to piece itself back together again. The same, blistering electricity touching each nerve in an infection of static.]
Ah ... Ahhgh .. [The Sin breaks his silence as his hands feel himself out. Over his hips and down his torso, they go - the strings of tendons and muscle flattening clean as he passes. He fans his palms along his throat.] Now, that's how you kill a man - [His tone shouldn't sound so jovial. Yet there's relief, a kind of palpable relief, and the former homunculus gingerly turns, revealing the last moments when the cuts sew themselves shut.]
[In the end, it's like nothing's happened at all. There's no scar, no gouges, no ribbons of flesh dangling from his stomach. Rather, the only thing that remains of the whole ordeal is the pool of blood below him. It's reflection a memory of her deed, deep and vicious.]
[Greed rubs the back of his head.] Still taking longer than I'd like. [He makes his way towards Velvet and his eyes feel her out.] Hey, hey. It's all over, Vel. It's just me. [He slows down, leaving prints of blood in the shape of his heels behind him.] C'mon, look at me, huh? I'm not mad. I told you to do it, and you did it. [The Sin grabs his shirt now that the threat is over and hooks it in his claws.] And you did good. Actually, better than that. Looks like that new body of yours has its worth, doesn't it?
[He's talking just to get her back; to bring her back from that terrible moment. The chimeras had been similar in a way. The fear in the beginning mixed with the animal instinct to fight, flee, or both. Greed stops short of her and touches his collarbone.] I noticed you kept the lock. [His smile goes soft on his face.] Remember it if you ever have to do that again. The world's ours, Velvet. I don't give a shit what this Valentino thinks.
[A single drop of gore rolls of his shoe. Greed's leering now, yet it isn't with the same chill as before. No, he's assessing her for damage, physical or otherwise. Killing someone isn't easy. Killing someone close is even harder. The Sin's eyebrows settle and when he talks again, his voice is a low rumble in his chest.]
You're one of mine. And I don't let anyone take what's mine.
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At first it doesn't entirely process. That isn't what blood looks like for Rageons or even Trolls— so dark and serious and cold of a red. But when everything clicks, a feeling burns in that minky-demon brain.
Success. A successful hunt. A successful kill. It's a wave of satisfaction that's cut off all too quick by the strange way Greed's once-dying body begins to crackle and spark and move and regenerate. Velvet and her terrible little mink brain become threatened once again. Her eyes turn the shade of hot pink her irises are all the way to the edge, leaving no sign of the once-yellow sclera, and her horns get larger, sharper. Her blood-covered claws form more perfect arcs as the reanimated Greed steps closer and closer still, his words falling on deaf ears for just a moment. She doesn't care if he isn't mad, she's scared— she can't believe what's just happened—
And then— the lock. Yes, that's right, her treasure from their first night seizing this world. Alien though Greed may be to her, he has won Velvet's trust. He's done it more than anyone else has, as far as she's concerned. Velvet's fur begins to flatten, her hissing and growling quieting, and she curls into herself a little as she becomes less and less threatening.
And I don't let anyone take what's mine.
He's believed in her, and believed in her, and believed her. And she is a treasure of his. It doesn't matter how many treasures he comes to have— she is one, and he is one of hers.
Velvet takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and quickly stands in front of Greed.
She lifts her hands, drops them on his shoulders, and opens her eyes— the normal ones, the ones from this body anyway, that he knows well. She looks into his, carefully, contemplatively, and takes another breath.
She smiles for just a moment.
And then, shaking Greed by the shoulders, Velvet absolutely screams.]
Why didn't you JUST TELL ME YOU COULD DO THAT?!
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[She smiles, and Greed stays still. She smiles, and his core goes tight in his chest.]
["If you turn your back on something you wanted, then you don't deserve to call yourself Greed!"]
[Thankfully though, she breaks his thoughts. Shatters them. And now she's shaking him, screaming, and the former homunculus quickly shoots his arms above his head.] Hey, hey - ! I did tell you I'm built stronger than most - ! [His pleas die under her volume and he just lets her have at it. Better to get it out and scream at a wall that will always listen.]
[When he gets a second, Greed lowers his hands to hang about her shoulders. Again, leaving space enough between them.] I'm fine, Velvet. Might be sore for a bit while the 'Stone's still slow, but I'm fine. Can't hurt me that easy, remember?
im so sorry this is so short and so dumb
Yeah? Yeah? Sure sounded like it hurt to me!
Does this hurt?! Huh?!
[Sorry, Greed, she'll... she'll calm down in a bit—]
DUDE NO It's PERFECT
[Greed's whine is rough, deep.] Ooi, oii - [He's trying to talk the best he can, but he isn't made of rubber. He's as stiff and solid as a brick.] - I can-th still feel pain. Just doesn-th las-th like most.
[He places his hands on her wrists to try to pull her off. But he's laughing. Laughing in a way that bubbles up from his chest and breathes a new kind of fire into his core.] C'mon, don't take it so personally. I figured this was the best way to make sure. And be careful with my face - it's a good one.
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She was afraid, and now she isn't. Everything is fine, and this person who has become important to her isn't looking at her with that cold look anymore, isn't on the floor— god he is still covered in blood, though, and as Velvet looks at her hands she realizes— yeah, yeah, so is she. Gross.]
...You're lucky it's a good face.
[She tilts her head up, not exactly smug, but putting back on her metaphorical princess crown, which is in no way also a convenient means of not looking at Greed's smile and being cowed by his laughter. She's still definitely offended, after all, just look at her.]
And since you were so worried about me, then I can leave the cleanup to you.
[She wiggles her fingers at him, still in his grasp. Velvet is definitely absolutely implying she means to make him also wash blood off her hands.
Her dignified act only carries so far, though, as her voice gets just a little meeker when she adds;]
....And you don't have to worry so much. 'Cos I can do it.
I can do whatever needs to be done.
[With her head tilted imploringly, her eyes the softest they've been for him, a rare sight of softness at all—]
Nothing is taking me out of your plans.
[The corner of her mouth lifts, her little minky ear twitches— and she takes one hand away from him to boop his nose with a paw pad and leave a little red smear.]
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[And she's back to her status quo too, isn't she? Wearing her crown with her head held high and oh, should the world watch out.]
[Greed rolls his eyes to the ceiling and his mouth tightens into a soft, sarcastic sneer.] So demanding. When did you get to be such a pissant? [He says it in a way that's friendly; as if she's been one of his for years and years and years. The former homunculus wafts a hand in front of his face.] Yeah, yeah. Let's get this cleaned up.
[There are bathrooms in the 'Nest, and that's where he starts. They're far enough away from all the blood and bad times that they can be easily forgotten for now. Greed hums and as he pinches his nose to try to wipe away a smear, his gait takes on a lazy drawl.] Now I know you can. Don't do it unless you have to. You'll surprise 'em better that way.
[He gets to the bathroom and reaches out to flick the switch. The bulb above takes a second or two to find itself; its rapid clicks sounding off as the connection sets. The Sin waves his hand to her.] Have a seat, Vel.
[Using his tail, he turns a knob on the faucet.] I wouldn't let anything take you out of my plans anyway. Not unless you told me to. [The water runs soft at first, then faster when he yanks the side for hot.] My avarice wouldn't let me.
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[Especially since he just lets her. It's one of the things she likes about him. She can play her little game, make herself feel important— and there he is with that sharp-toothed smile. It's comforting, even now.
She sits, as directed, eyeing Greed carefully as she listens to him. Not out of fear, no, she really is over it all— she'll think about the sight she's seen later, but everything turned out alright, didn't it? No, her concern comes in a somewhat hesitant question—]
Is that why you're not mad at me?
Avarice?
[It's not a word she's heard often, but it's one she likes. It's one a Rageon would like.]
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[The Sin bends down in front of her and sticks his foot out behind him.] Didn't think you'd ask that question, so I might not have a good answer. [Soft creases play at the corners of his eyes. In the gloom of the bathroom's yellowed light, the shadows on his face grow and sink into all his angular points.] My avarice runs deep, Velvet. I want everything you can think of. Money - [He hums as he takes her fingers and gently begins to rub away his gore.] - women, sex, status, glory. There's nothing that could stop me from wanting it all. Not even death.
[His smile is pleasant, dim, and sincere. The big bad wolf indeed brought down to a humble.]
[The former homunculus shifts the towel, moving it to the underside of her hand.] Doesn't really answer your question, though. [That grin of his stays, but his gaze tells a different story. Something's there. Something buried, something festering. Greed rubs a little bit at a stubborn spot and swallows away the thought.] You don't think this if the first place I've had, do you? There were people before you. People who made plenty of mistakes.
I never turned them away, and I'm not about to start. So you got yourself tangled in some shit. So what. [He checks her fingers by trying to force his thumb through them one at a time.] If I held that against you, I'd be a fucking hypocrite.
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She lets him talk and watches his face, and some small part of her realizes that she hasn't really watched anyone like this before, hasn't particularly endeavored to look outside her double-edged mirror. Noticing things at all about Greed like this is new to her, anyway. He isn't one of the two people she's devoted her life to knowing— herself, and her version of Veneer.
It's times like this he actually looks like some kind of ageless being to her. It's not the way his eyes glimmer in the dark, or his demonlike stature— she isn't unaware of magical things or even scary ones. But it's this face like Greed knows something Velvet couldn't even hope to understand that really makes her believe him.
No, of course she believes him.
He isn't a liar, like her, and for one of the first times, Velvet doesn't actually feel good about it.
She stares back at their hands again— no, not at her own, but at Greed's. At his sharp claws, at the dark carbon color that contrasts so fully with her gleaming white fur, claws that could tear her and yet are being so, so gentle. That aren't letting her go or telling her to get away or that she isn't enough, isn't right, shouldn't be here.
A sigh. It's always so obvious when Velvet pouts, with her lips the way they are, even when they're absent of paint and just the same white as the rest of her.]
Veneer— kicked me out, until tomorrow. And Angel—
[Another sigh, and Velvet almost brings her free hand to rub her temple before she catches sight of it again and thinks better of it.]
I... might have... maybe yelled at him a little.
[It's not like Greed has to be gracious with her. She doesn't expect Angel to be, either. Veneer— Veneer...
Well, he always forgives her. It's what he's supposed to do. But Greed doesn't have that expectation, and something pulls at Velvet's brain, making her want to test him with the truth. If he knew, if he knows, the kind of person she really is— will he still want her in this world of his?]
I'm just saying, you wouldn't be the only person who has a problem with me tonight.
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