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[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?
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[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?