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[Michael's wings fold inward and it's then, in that hanging moment between the hallway and the door, that the Sin pauses. He waits, not for a sign, but for something else. Yet that's the thing for creatures like them: it never comes, does it? All those years, all that given time, and still. Still - ]
[Greed catches the door on the back of his foot and the wood knocks hollow again his 'Shield.] Didn't you say something before? About how mine can change? Well, sounds to me like you should start taking your own advice. [Shadows carve out his face as he shoos a look down the hallway, dreamy and a million miles away even now. Sharp as he is, in the bar's empty quiet, he's softer somehow. Between the graze of neon, the dark corners, and the consistent hang of smoke, everything predatory about him fades a bit. It isn't gone completely (not with that pucker to his lip or the crookedness of his smile), but it's close enough. A momentary reprieve from his constant state of bullshit and maybe, there is something to be said. About men and monsters and the things that made them.]
[The former homunculus steps backwards, causing the curls of his toes to rck-a-tck-tck along the floor.] See, that's where we're different, Michael. Even now, if Dad asked me again, I'd give him the same fucking answer as before. But he's not here, God isn't here. So whatever role you had to play? It doesn't matter.
[A haze hangs over his face. Whether that's the bathroom letting off steam, the hallway itself, or a trick of the light is anyone's guess. But as he carries Michael out into the hall, a flutter of red teases in the corner of his eyes; the look of it like a low-burning candle shuddering in the wind. Greed hums.] Be honest with him. He might not like what you have to tell him, but doing nothing isn't gunna do you any good. You made a deal with him, right? Let him know the offer's still there, it's just that this place had other ideas in mind. Like I told you, I don't know him as well as you do, but -
[He follows the long run of the hall, claws clipping, and his voice hushes to a slur in his throat.] - suppose it's all about second chances, right? This afterlife, I mean. And sure, you might not get it right the first time, but Luce - [The Sin plants his tongue behind his teeth to trace along the roof of his mouth.] - Lucifer is still your brother. Better to tell him the truth and see what his offer is first before you make that decision for him.
[Greed lets out a soft laugh as he passes by room after room. Without the crowd, the building itself is haunted in a way: by the empty beer bottles, half-finished games of pool, and the tables and chairs pushed away in such a manner that it wouldn't be hard to imagine people there hours before.] Who said I was asking something from you? Just call it my avarice, Blues. It runs a bit deep, is all. [His tail wafts out behind him, cutting through the fog to turn off a light or two as he makes his way further.] Nothing more, nothing less.
[This time, when he feels Michael's hand on his face, he doesn't pull back. Instead, he simply tilts his grin into the touch, letting his eyes fall shut.] Can't change what's already happened. There's no point thinking about it too much. He's dead, Michael. Just the same as I am. But if he does show up, do me the favor, would you? [The Sin's eyes crease open. Under a lick of darkness, whatever body they had to them before is gone and replaced by two, hollow points of red, red, red.]
[Greed dips into a sliver of light, and they return again as if nothing happened at all.] Just stay out of it. It's not something you'll want to see, trust me on that one. [He could get angry here, but given how the night's gone, it isn't worth it.] I might not be bad, Michael. But that doesn't mean I'm entirely good either. And if you're anything like your brother, best for you to avoid seeing that mess, hmn?
[Finally, he finds himself at the door to one of the backrooms and with a nudge of his elbow, the former homunculus waltzes on in. A single leather sofa stretches across the wall; its red color illuminated by a smokey hint of neon. Greed plants his back against the door, shutting it closed with a clap.] Everything has a price, glad you've finally caught up. [But where he should be dropping the Archangel off and making himself scarce, the Sin does the exact opposite. With Michael in his hands, he heftily drops onto the corner of the couch, forcing his neck back as his horns gently graze the wall.]
Ah, no. [He corrects, wagging one finger under Michael.] You, the both of you, are sometimes a lot more trouble than you're worth. But I wouldn't say you're a source of unhappiness, or whatever the hell you just said. As for high expectations - [He frees one of his arms from Michael to dig it through the side-table drawer.]
- wouldn't call it that either. The people that come here can never live a normal kind of life, Blue Eyes. Alive or dead, that hasn't changed. Ah. [Greed snares a pack of smokes and a matchbox from the collection of odds and ends before slapping the drawer shut. He starts with the cigarettes first, thumbing the lid open.] Besides, I couldn't let you just stay up there. Wouldn't sit right with me.
[He tosses a single cigarette into his jaw and his teeth snap around the filter, bending it.] Then you'll stay here until you're good to go. I know the first time Lucifer showed up, that regeneration of his wasn't working as well. Take your time. Not like I got anything to do. [He pushes the corner of the matchbox to ease it out. While he still has some left, the assortment is slim to say the least. Greed groans to himself as he plucks a single match from the box.]
My terms, huh. [Whoof, goes the match, and the Sin watches it burn between his fingers.] Nothing. I already told you what I wanted. Start living a little. And once you're done here, make sure to reach out to that brother of yours. You can tell him whatever you want, but leave the details of our little fight out of it huh?
[And with that, he lights up his smoke and shakes out the match.]
Anyone can change with the right attitude, but changing for us can lead to ruin. The higher you climb, the further the fall. I haven’t voiced my opposition not because I’m cowardly, but because, right now, I am one of the few allies Hell has. When they see what I have seen and finally understand, then I can speak candidly. I can’t help him if I’m down there with him, can I?
The walls have ears, Greed, you should know that better than anyone. Even here, I am careful with what I say. There are many versions of Heaven, I’ve found, and just as many versions of Him. If He does arrive here, who can say if it will be a magnanimous God or a spiteful one? The slope is a slippery one, but I intend to cross it.
[ The softness on the face of the former homunculus gives him pause, and he does find himself staring. He wonders what train of thought brought it on and how often he shows it to people — then he gets his answer. ]
It isn’t that simple, my role is all I’ve ever had. We were created for a sole purpose, I am having a difficult time moving beyond that. The fact that God isn’t here, anywhere, is alarming. Ever the dutiful son, I suppose, I strive for his approval even when he isn’t here to give it.
[ There is an amusement in his voice that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It hurts and, through no fault of God’s, he feels like he has been abandoned here. The only guidance he can rely on is what he has obtained over the years, and none of it included arriving in a place like this. ]
You do realize you can call him by a nickname, don’t you? A long time ago, I used to call him Luci. [ There is that fondness, because he is speaking of the person who means most to him in this world. ] When we met each other here again, aside from some of the animosity I expected, it was as if no time had passed. He said that seeing Father here first changed things. A small mercy.
My honesty is the problem, I’ve never been one to mince words and the years apart haven't done that any favors. If anything, it has gotten worse. Slow and steady wins the race, I suppose. I’ll try and keep that in mind next time, I think handling him with kid gloves would only piss him off more. He would call it babying.
[ And he would be right. ]
Your avarice is going to be the death of you. A bit deep? How modest you are. If your avarice were a geological point on Earth, it would be the Mariana Trench. [ A pause, where he studies him for a moment and recalls the time period he came from. ] It is the deepest point on the planet, at the bottom of the ocean. I’m saying your avarice is a bottomless pit.
[ Just in case there was any confusion. At the next bit, he furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything, as if unsure. Finally: ] That isn’t something I can promise you, but I can say that I won’t go looking for him. However, you know that Lucifer will fight for his friends. He won’t hear it from me but, if he does realize your relationship is antagonistic, and Wrath does threaten you upon arrival, he won’t sit idly by and observe it. You are important to him, and he is important to me. If it comes to it, I will step in.
I’m nothing like my brother. Lucifer sees something and sees possibilities, whereas I see something and only think of its practical uses. He strives for peace, while I wait for another war. [ He wants peace as well, but knows the likelihood grows slimmer each day. ] Is that your deep, dark secret? If you were inherently bad, I wouldn’t be here, Greed, and I’m not naive enough to believe in scary stories. You are a mess, but I’m still here.
[ Yeah, that is certainly something, he wasn’t expecting him to stick around, but it doesn’t seem to bother him either. A sudden laugh gets pulled out of him, and he looks up at him. ] Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Sometimes I think I could cheerfully strangle you, but that would put my piety into question.
You are harboring an angel in Hell that killed a demon, and all you want in return is for me to climb out from under my Father’s shadow? I’m sure you are already aware of this, but you are a strange man, Greed.
[ Rather than a jab, there is a smidge of fondness there. This is yet another example of how they were wrong, not all Sinners are repulsive monsters hellbent on turning those of a weaker constitution away from the light. This one has his own motives, yes, but aside from their battle, he has never felt unsafe here.
Mindful of the cigarette, Michael shifts his body so he can reach up with both hands and tilt Greed’s face down a fraction. He begins to murmur a string of words in a different language against his forehead, something older than the Earth itself. He might recognize a few of them if he has ever heard Lucifer speak the language. Otherwise, the only distinguishing one will be the quiet Amen at the end.
He seals the prayer with a chaste kiss planted in the middle of his forehead, then wordlessly moves to slide off of his lap and onto the opposite side of the couch. He lays down on his side, head against the arm of the couch, before curling a wing so he can survey it. Michael is meticulous in the way he goes over the feathers, checking Greed’s work thoroughly. ]
I’m not a fool, of course I have no intention of telling him. I don’t enjoy worrying him needlessly. We both survived, we can leave it at that. The only fortunate part is I wasn’t in possession of my sword. You wouldn’t have crept away relatively unscathed if I had it.
[ He curls himself up to make himself smaller at first, not wanting to crowd the other man with his limbs. Eventually, however, he stretches his legs out across Greed’s lap and seems to get comfortable. ]
.. it was a prayer, for protection. If anyone is in need of one, it’s you.
[All along his face, the smoke plays its tricks. From the tip (bright orange and burning low) to the swirls that finger around his chin like a dead-lover's caress, it knots itself around him; the thin trails tightening and loosening between the neon glow as softly as secrets, whispered through the cracks.]
[Greed inhales, and the tip of his cigarette bristles; the crackle of crinkling paper, brisk and sharp.] Mn. Can't say you're wrong. There's always rumors, Michael. And you're right. Information is worth a lot in my line of work. That much hasn't changed. So, I guess we'll just leave it that, then. A little secret between you and me.
[The tips of his teeth sink into the filter, causing it to bleed out a leak of silvery-blue along his lip. It's stagnant and still; the look of it like incense rolling over its burner. The former homunculus settles his back against the sofa and as the leather meets his skin with a damp groan, he folds one leg over the other and a small snort puffs around his nose.] Ha, not sure you'd like the other nicknames I got for your brother. [He charms in, the smile on his face merely a crack. He reaches down to press Michael lightly on the chest with his finger.] Not that I got anything to hide, mind. But fine. Luce it is.
Y'know, I was ready to fight you then, right? [Using his chin as a tipping point, he urges his head lazily against his shoulder and the earring in his ear pats softly against his cheek.] Glad we kept things peaceful. Believe it or not, I like you, Blue Eyes. Even if you do have a habit of making things a lot more complicated than they have to be. [With his other hand, the former homunculus cups the cigarette as he takes another long drag. And while the tip of it shrinks, while the ash grows, he lets it all tumble down; the small dump of dust all but forgotten on the floor.]
[Greed places his arm back across the sofa, leaving the smoke to fume between his fingers. When he barks again, the sound is much softer than before. Softer, but no less demanding.] Gahaha! Nothing modest about me. I am Greed, remember? I want everything you can think of. So, you're right. My avarice doesn't have any limits. [Without thinking about it, he thumbs the end of his cigarette, sending a sprinkling soot into the air.] Just hope you're not gunna hold it against me.
[He shifts then when the subject of Wrath comes up again. It's a subtle movement - a slight twist of his hip, the way his shoulders seem to pull inward just a hair. The former homunculus lifts his arm and as he guides the cigarette back to his face, he eats away at it. He lets the tobacco pillow on his tongue, bitter and dry. Because he can still see it all as clear as day: his charging blindly into a fight they could never win, the drowned lumps of bodies floating in a sewer, the hot cut of steel slicing cleanly through his throat, leaving him pinned up against cold brick like a trembling, dying bug. Wrath, at the end of it all, with a smile on his face he never truly deserved.]
[The Sin exhales and pinches the end of his cigarette, snuffing it with a hiss.] Wouldn't do you much good, anyway. No one stays dead here, right? What's the point? [He examines what's left of his cigarette and as the embers blink out, he tosses it into a nearby tray.] No, if he does show up, you won't like what I plan to do, Michael. Besides, he doesn't have the same things we do. It'd be too easy for either of you, and he already died on me once before I had my chance. So, best to avoid it.
[And oh, how close he is to a threat. In the form of his teeth as they walk the line between sharp points and curving tusks. Thankfully, they settle on the former and as Greed shrugs, he shoos the whole thing away with a lazy, half-hearted flick of the wrist.] Ehh, Luce is trying to make a new life for himself here. Can't say I blame him for avoiding things like that. Leave it guys like us, right? [He peels open one of his eyes, shooting a look towards Michael.] I'm no stranger to war, Michael. Kinda a whole thing back where I'm from. And maybe you should. Don't think just because I left the rest of 'em it means I'm entirely innocent either.
[Hearing Michael laugh (actually laugh), the Sin arches an eyebrow. Then, without missing a single beat, he joins in; the noise in his throat, short and wheezy.] You could try. But again, strangling me isn't gunna really cut it. I'll just come back. Now, if you really want to kill me, you'll have to try a bit harder. [Greed taps the side of his temple with his claw once, twice.] Still won't do much, but it'll save you a whole lot of time over choking me out.
[But then, everything changes. Everything changes and as Michael grabs his face, the Sin goes stark stiff. He can hear Michael talking (with those words, those old words, those foreign words), can feel his breath on his forehead, and all he can do is watch. Watch the wall and all of its grit and layered-over graffiti as a whisper of someone (someones) tickles at the back of his skull:]
["Friendship isn't something you can just forget!"]
["Do you want to be allies?"]
["Wait - !"]
[Greed feels Michael slip off his lap and the grin on his face creases up one side of his jaw.] Saying a little prayer for me now, are you? Wouldn't worry yourself too much, Blues. I'll be fine. I always come back, right? [He hums. Whether he's thinking about it or if it's just simply his nature, the former homunculus drops one of his hands onto Michael's leg. And it isn't a lewd gesture, nor is crude. It's simply a weight; a weight of a touch, and ah, if anyone could have ever guessed it would be them, the two of them, here - ]
[The last of the cigarette smoke thins on the ceiling, and the Sin rolls his ankle.] Guess you'll just have to try harder, won't you? [He teases as his knuckle runs circles on Michael's skin.] Ah, well. Another time. But you should get some rest there, Blues. I'll make sure no one comes in to bother you. Fair enough?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
WHEEZES i am so sorry
[Greed catches the door on the back of his foot and the wood knocks hollow again his 'Shield.] Didn't you say something before? About how mine can change? Well, sounds to me like you should start taking your own advice. [Shadows carve out his face as he shoos a look down the hallway, dreamy and a million miles away even now. Sharp as he is, in the bar's empty quiet, he's softer somehow. Between the graze of neon, the dark corners, and the consistent hang of smoke, everything predatory about him fades a bit. It isn't gone completely (not with that pucker to his lip or the crookedness of his smile), but it's close enough. A momentary reprieve from his constant state of bullshit and maybe, there is something to be said. About men and monsters and the things that made them.]
[The former homunculus steps backwards, causing the curls of his toes to rck-a-tck-tck along the floor.] See, that's where we're different, Michael. Even now, if Dad asked me again, I'd give him the same fucking answer as before. But he's not here, God isn't here. So whatever role you had to play? It doesn't matter.
[A haze hangs over his face. Whether that's the bathroom letting off steam, the hallway itself, or a trick of the light is anyone's guess. But as he carries Michael out into the hall, a flutter of red teases in the corner of his eyes; the look of it like a low-burning candle shuddering in the wind. Greed hums.] Be honest with him. He might not like what you have to tell him, but doing nothing isn't gunna do you any good. You made a deal with him, right? Let him know the offer's still there, it's just that this place had other ideas in mind. Like I told you, I don't know him as well as you do, but -
[He follows the long run of the hall, claws clipping, and his voice hushes to a slur in his throat.] - suppose it's all about second chances, right? This afterlife, I mean. And sure, you might not get it right the first time, but Luce - [The Sin plants his tongue behind his teeth to trace along the roof of his mouth.] - Lucifer is still your brother. Better to tell him the truth and see what his offer is first before you make that decision for him.
[Greed lets out a soft laugh as he passes by room after room. Without the crowd, the building itself is haunted in a way: by the empty beer bottles, half-finished games of pool, and the tables and chairs pushed away in such a manner that it wouldn't be hard to imagine people there hours before.] Who said I was asking something from you? Just call it my avarice, Blues. It runs a bit deep, is all. [His tail wafts out behind him, cutting through the fog to turn off a light or two as he makes his way further.] Nothing more, nothing less.
[This time, when he feels Michael's hand on his face, he doesn't pull back. Instead, he simply tilts his grin into the touch, letting his eyes fall shut.] Can't change what's already happened. There's no point thinking about it too much. He's dead, Michael. Just the same as I am. But if he does show up, do me the favor, would you? [The Sin's eyes crease open. Under a lick of darkness, whatever body they had to them before is gone and replaced by two, hollow points of red, red, red.]
[Greed dips into a sliver of light, and they return again as if nothing happened at all.] Just stay out of it. It's not something you'll want to see, trust me on that one. [He could get angry here, but given how the night's gone, it isn't worth it.] I might not be bad, Michael. But that doesn't mean I'm entirely good either. And if you're anything like your brother, best for you to avoid seeing that mess, hmn?
[Finally, he finds himself at the door to one of the backrooms and with a nudge of his elbow, the former homunculus waltzes on in. A single leather sofa stretches across the wall; its red color illuminated by a smokey hint of neon. Greed plants his back against the door, shutting it closed with a clap.] Everything has a price, glad you've finally caught up. [But where he should be dropping the Archangel off and making himself scarce, the Sin does the exact opposite. With Michael in his hands, he heftily drops onto the corner of the couch, forcing his neck back as his horns gently graze the wall.]
Ah, no. [He corrects, wagging one finger under Michael.] You, the both of you, are sometimes a lot more trouble than you're worth. But I wouldn't say you're a source of unhappiness, or whatever the hell you just said. As for high expectations - [He frees one of his arms from Michael to dig it through the side-table drawer.]
- wouldn't call it that either. The people that come here can never live a normal kind of life, Blue Eyes. Alive or dead, that hasn't changed. Ah. [Greed snares a pack of smokes and a matchbox from the collection of odds and ends before slapping the drawer shut. He starts with the cigarettes first, thumbing the lid open.] Besides, I couldn't let you just stay up there. Wouldn't sit right with me.
[He tosses a single cigarette into his jaw and his teeth snap around the filter, bending it.] Then you'll stay here until you're good to go. I know the first time Lucifer showed up, that regeneration of his wasn't working as well. Take your time. Not like I got anything to do. [He pushes the corner of the matchbox to ease it out. While he still has some left, the assortment is slim to say the least. Greed groans to himself as he plucks a single match from the box.]
My terms, huh. [Whoof, goes the match, and the Sin watches it burn between his fingers.] Nothing. I already told you what I wanted. Start living a little. And once you're done here, make sure to reach out to that brother of yours. You can tell him whatever you want, but leave the details of our little fight out of it huh?
[And with that, he lights up his smoke and shakes out the match.]
RIGHT BACK AT U
The walls have ears, Greed, you should know that better than anyone. Even here, I am careful with what I say. There are many versions of Heaven, I’ve found, and just as many versions of Him. If He does arrive here, who can say if it will be a magnanimous God or a spiteful one? The slope is a slippery one, but I intend to cross it.
[ The softness on the face of the former homunculus gives him pause, and he does find himself staring. He wonders what train of thought brought it on and how often he shows it to people — then he gets his answer. ]
It isn’t that simple, my role is all I’ve ever had. We were created for a sole purpose, I am having a difficult time moving beyond that. The fact that God isn’t here, anywhere, is alarming. Ever the dutiful son, I suppose, I strive for his approval even when he isn’t here to give it.
[ There is an amusement in his voice that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It hurts and, through no fault of God’s, he feels like he has been abandoned here. The only guidance he can rely on is what he has obtained over the years, and none of it included arriving in a place like this. ]
You do realize you can call him by a nickname, don’t you? A long time ago, I used to call him Luci. [ There is that fondness, because he is speaking of the person who means most to him in this world. ] When we met each other here again, aside from some of the animosity I expected, it was as if no time had passed. He said that seeing Father here first changed things. A small mercy.
My honesty is the problem, I’ve never been one to mince words and the years apart haven't done that any favors. If anything, it has gotten worse. Slow and steady wins the race, I suppose. I’ll try and keep that in mind next time, I think handling him with kid gloves would only piss him off more. He would call it babying.
[ And he would be right. ]
Your avarice is going to be the death of you. A bit deep? How modest you are. If your avarice were a geological point on Earth, it would be the Mariana Trench. [ A pause, where he studies him for a moment and recalls the time period he came from. ] It is the deepest point on the planet, at the bottom of the ocean. I’m saying your avarice is a bottomless pit.
[ Just in case there was any confusion. At the next bit, he furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything, as if unsure. Finally: ] That isn’t something I can promise you, but I can say that I won’t go looking for him. However, you know that Lucifer will fight for his friends. He won’t hear it from me but, if he does realize your relationship is antagonistic, and Wrath does threaten you upon arrival, he won’t sit idly by and observe it. You are important to him, and he is important to me. If it comes to it, I will step in.
I’m nothing like my brother. Lucifer sees something and sees possibilities, whereas I see something and only think of its practical uses. He strives for peace, while I wait for another war. [ He wants peace as well, but knows the likelihood grows slimmer each day. ] Is that your deep, dark secret? If you were inherently bad, I wouldn’t be here, Greed, and I’m not naive enough to believe in scary stories. You are a mess, but I’m still here.
[ Yeah, that is certainly something, he wasn’t expecting him to stick around, but it doesn’t seem to bother him either. A sudden laugh gets pulled out of him, and he looks up at him. ] Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Sometimes I think I could cheerfully strangle you, but that would put my piety into question.
You are harboring an angel in Hell that killed a demon, and all you want in return is for me to climb out from under my Father’s shadow? I’m sure you are already aware of this, but you are a strange man, Greed.
[ Rather than a jab, there is a smidge of fondness there. This is yet another example of how they were wrong, not all Sinners are repulsive monsters hellbent on turning those of a weaker constitution away from the light. This one has his own motives, yes, but aside from their battle, he has never felt unsafe here.
Mindful of the cigarette, Michael shifts his body so he can reach up with both hands and tilt Greed’s face down a fraction. He begins to murmur a string of words in a different language against his forehead, something older than the Earth itself. He might recognize a few of them if he has ever heard Lucifer speak the language. Otherwise, the only distinguishing one will be the quiet Amen at the end.
He seals the prayer with a chaste kiss planted in the middle of his forehead, then wordlessly moves to slide off of his lap and onto the opposite side of the couch. He lays down on his side, head against the arm of the couch, before curling a wing so he can survey it. Michael is meticulous in the way he goes over the feathers, checking Greed’s work thoroughly. ]
I’m not a fool, of course I have no intention of telling him. I don’t enjoy worrying him needlessly. We both survived, we can leave it at that. The only fortunate part is I wasn’t in possession of my sword. You wouldn’t have crept away relatively unscathed if I had it.
[ He curls himself up to make himself smaller at first, not wanting to crowd the other man with his limbs. Eventually, however, he stretches his legs out across Greed’s lap and seems to get comfortable. ]
.. it was a prayer, for protection. If anyone is in need of one, it’s you.
no subject
[Greed inhales, and the tip of his cigarette bristles; the crackle of crinkling paper, brisk and sharp.] Mn. Can't say you're wrong. There's always rumors, Michael. And you're right. Information is worth a lot in my line of work. That much hasn't changed. So, I guess we'll just leave it that, then. A little secret between you and me.
[The tips of his teeth sink into the filter, causing it to bleed out a leak of silvery-blue along his lip. It's stagnant and still; the look of it like incense rolling over its burner. The former homunculus settles his back against the sofa and as the leather meets his skin with a damp groan, he folds one leg over the other and a small snort puffs around his nose.] Ha, not sure you'd like the other nicknames I got for your brother. [He charms in, the smile on his face merely a crack. He reaches down to press Michael lightly on the chest with his finger.] Not that I got anything to hide, mind. But fine. Luce it is.
Y'know, I was ready to fight you then, right? [Using his chin as a tipping point, he urges his head lazily against his shoulder and the earring in his ear pats softly against his cheek.] Glad we kept things peaceful. Believe it or not, I like you, Blue Eyes. Even if you do have a habit of making things a lot more complicated than they have to be. [With his other hand, the former homunculus cups the cigarette as he takes another long drag. And while the tip of it shrinks, while the ash grows, he lets it all tumble down; the small dump of dust all but forgotten on the floor.]
[Greed places his arm back across the sofa, leaving the smoke to fume between his fingers. When he barks again, the sound is much softer than before. Softer, but no less demanding.] Gahaha! Nothing modest about me. I am Greed, remember? I want everything you can think of. So, you're right. My avarice doesn't have any limits. [Without thinking about it, he thumbs the end of his cigarette, sending a sprinkling soot into the air.] Just hope you're not gunna hold it against me.
[He shifts then when the subject of Wrath comes up again. It's a subtle movement - a slight twist of his hip, the way his shoulders seem to pull inward just a hair. The former homunculus lifts his arm and as he guides the cigarette back to his face, he eats away at it. He lets the tobacco pillow on his tongue, bitter and dry. Because he can still see it all as clear as day: his charging blindly into a fight they could never win, the drowned lumps of bodies floating in a sewer, the hot cut of steel slicing cleanly through his throat, leaving him pinned up against cold brick like a trembling, dying bug. Wrath, at the end of it all, with a smile on his face he never truly deserved.]
[The Sin exhales and pinches the end of his cigarette, snuffing it with a hiss.] Wouldn't do you much good, anyway. No one stays dead here, right? What's the point? [He examines what's left of his cigarette and as the embers blink out, he tosses it into a nearby tray.] No, if he does show up, you won't like what I plan to do, Michael. Besides, he doesn't have the same things we do. It'd be too easy for either of you, and he already died on me once before I had my chance. So, best to avoid it.
[And oh, how close he is to a threat. In the form of his teeth as they walk the line between sharp points and curving tusks. Thankfully, they settle on the former and as Greed shrugs, he shoos the whole thing away with a lazy, half-hearted flick of the wrist.] Ehh, Luce is trying to make a new life for himself here. Can't say I blame him for avoiding things like that. Leave it guys like us, right? [He peels open one of his eyes, shooting a look towards Michael.] I'm no stranger to war, Michael. Kinda a whole thing back where I'm from. And maybe you should. Don't think just because I left the rest of 'em it means I'm entirely innocent either.
[Hearing Michael laugh (actually laugh), the Sin arches an eyebrow. Then, without missing a single beat, he joins in; the noise in his throat, short and wheezy.] You could try. But again, strangling me isn't gunna really cut it. I'll just come back. Now, if you really want to kill me, you'll have to try a bit harder. [Greed taps the side of his temple with his claw once, twice.] Still won't do much, but it'll save you a whole lot of time over choking me out.
[But then, everything changes. Everything changes and as Michael grabs his face, the Sin goes stark stiff. He can hear Michael talking (with those words, those old words, those foreign words), can feel his breath on his forehead, and all he can do is watch. Watch the wall and all of its grit and layered-over graffiti as a whisper of someone (someones) tickles at the back of his skull:]
["Friendship isn't something you can just forget!"]
["Do you want to be allies?"]
["Wait - !"]
[Greed feels Michael slip off his lap and the grin on his face creases up one side of his jaw.] Saying a little prayer for me now, are you? Wouldn't worry yourself too much, Blues. I'll be fine. I always come back, right? [He hums. Whether he's thinking about it or if it's just simply his nature, the former homunculus drops one of his hands onto Michael's leg. And it isn't a lewd gesture, nor is crude. It's simply a weight; a weight of a touch, and ah, if anyone could have ever guessed it would be them, the two of them, here - ]
[The last of the cigarette smoke thins on the ceiling, and the Sin rolls his ankle.] Guess you'll just have to try harder, won't you? [He teases as his knuckle runs circles on Michael's skin.] Ah, well. Another time. But you should get some rest there, Blues. I'll make sure no one comes in to bother you. Fair enough?