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[With the bags tangled in his claws, the Sin gently presses his toe at the lip of the door to make sure it's firmly shut in place.] You're talking like I'll ever be satisfied. [He teases as he slowly turns away and back towards the kitchen. The plastic handles strain between his fingers, and the former homunculus shifts one or two of them to redistribute the weight.] But sure, fine. Figure out exactly what you need, and we'll work something out.
[A look (cocky and full of himself) eases on his face.] Putting a lot of faith in someone like me. Who says I wouldn't swindle you? [He wouldn't. They both know better by this point.] And if you already know what I'm thinking, then you shouldn't be surprised when I tell you that it won't be cheap.
[Greed crosses through the kitchen, his tail wandering behind him like a fishtail made of thorns. The new decorations on the wall immediately grab his attention. Had this been anyone else's room, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. But Michael, his has always been barren, hasn't it? Anything that wasn't completely necessary either didn't stay long or was never there in the first place. And as his eyes drift over the photographs (of Lucifer and his kid, of Oda probably causing the man his fair share of headaches, of Alastor with his pleasant, daring smile, of him, him and Michael, clicking glasses over something he barely remembers), the former homunculus is so distracted that he slams his shin into the new coffee table, earning a quick, raspy hiss.]
[He shakes it off by dropping two of the bags down on the corner of it.] Tch. Told you before that I'd always keep you on your toes, Blue Eyes. [Greed shoves the food out of the way to set the other two bags dangerously close to the table's sharp-lipped edge. He turns his head up, catching Michael's painted likeness.] You asking me if I'm willing is like asking me if I want something. I've told you to never hold back with me. And there's a few things you should know how to deal with, anyway.
[Like how to take care of a homunculus if it ever comes to it.]
[But he doesn't say that. That's a conversation for another time, when Michael's shown him everything he's got, and he'll be the right monster for the job. The Sin's attention silently bounces between the rest of the objects hung on the wall. Sentimental. Despite how hard Michael may try to come across as otherwise, he's sentimental. And maybe, that's something they share in common. Where they'll never say it, never admit it, but it's all so plain to see.]
[Greed scoffs and shrugs his shoulders as he winds around the other side of the coffee table.] You've never fought something like me, and I've never dealt with something like you. Not fully, anyway. [He shows off a hint of his teeth as he presses his head lazily into his shoulder.] So I hope you realize what you're asking for. Not that I think I'll be able to do much to you, but don't expect me to go easy on ya just because I like you.
[It comes out before he means to, and the Sin quickly waves his hand in the air to dismiss the idea. Thankfully, the Archangel does him the favor, if only by changing the subject. Greed takes a seat on the other side of the couch. He folds one leg over the other and as the small of his back sinks into the cushions, he pins two of his elbows behind him, leaving his claws to dangle at his sides.] Ehh, I might not be Gluttony, but I'm not exactly picky, Blues. [He almost sets his boot on the table, but quickly stops himself partway through. No, that's a sure-fire way to earn himself a one-way ticket right off the balcony, no matter how many times Michael never makes good on the threat.]
[So instead, he stretches out his leg, grinding his heel lightly into the floor.] I can eat with a fork y'know. [The former homunculus bounces his foot. Since when did he care about how he ate in front of anyone?] Just makes it easier this way. [To clarify, he spins his wrist and all five of his fingers fan open; their crooked nails, as smooth as a black, filed-point fork.]
[Greed lets his wrist fall limp.] But if it's gunna be a problem, we'll do it your way this time. [The look he shoots over his shoulder may be sarcastic, but there's something else there too. Something warm, something accepting, and as the former homunculus reaches for the bag, he drops his leg off his knee.] Usually these places pack some anyway. [He starts as he begins to dig through the plastic.] And it would be a waste if we didn't use 'em, right?
[Is it a good save? Probably not. But it's as good enough as any.]
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[A look (cocky and full of himself) eases on his face.] Putting a lot of faith in someone like me. Who says I wouldn't swindle you? [He wouldn't. They both know better by this point.] And if you already know what I'm thinking, then you shouldn't be surprised when I tell you that it won't be cheap.
[Greed crosses through the kitchen, his tail wandering behind him like a fishtail made of thorns. The new decorations on the wall immediately grab his attention. Had this been anyone else's room, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. But Michael, his has always been barren, hasn't it? Anything that wasn't completely necessary either didn't stay long or was never there in the first place. And as his eyes drift over the photographs (of Lucifer and his kid, of Oda probably causing the man his fair share of headaches, of Alastor with his pleasant, daring smile, of him, him and Michael, clicking glasses over something he barely remembers), the former homunculus is so distracted that he slams his shin into the new coffee table, earning a quick, raspy hiss.]
[He shakes it off by dropping two of the bags down on the corner of it.] Tch. Told you before that I'd always keep you on your toes, Blue Eyes. [Greed shoves the food out of the way to set the other two bags dangerously close to the table's sharp-lipped edge. He turns his head up, catching Michael's painted likeness.] You asking me if I'm willing is like asking me if I want something. I've told you to never hold back with me. And there's a few things you should know how to deal with, anyway.
[Like how to take care of a homunculus if it ever comes to it.]
[But he doesn't say that. That's a conversation for another time, when Michael's shown him everything he's got, and he'll be the right monster for the job. The Sin's attention silently bounces between the rest of the objects hung on the wall. Sentimental. Despite how hard Michael may try to come across as otherwise, he's sentimental. And maybe, that's something they share in common. Where they'll never say it, never admit it, but it's all so plain to see.]
[Greed scoffs and shrugs his shoulders as he winds around the other side of the coffee table.] You've never fought something like me, and I've never dealt with something like you. Not fully, anyway. [He shows off a hint of his teeth as he presses his head lazily into his shoulder.] So I hope you realize what you're asking for. Not that I think I'll be able to do much to you, but don't expect me to go easy on ya just because I like you.
[It comes out before he means to, and the Sin quickly waves his hand in the air to dismiss the idea. Thankfully, the Archangel does him the favor, if only by changing the subject. Greed takes a seat on the other side of the couch. He folds one leg over the other and as the small of his back sinks into the cushions, he pins two of his elbows behind him, leaving his claws to dangle at his sides.] Ehh, I might not be Gluttony, but I'm not exactly picky, Blues. [He almost sets his boot on the table, but quickly stops himself partway through. No, that's a sure-fire way to earn himself a one-way ticket right off the balcony, no matter how many times Michael never makes good on the threat.]
[So instead, he stretches out his leg, grinding his heel lightly into the floor.] I can eat with a fork y'know. [The former homunculus bounces his foot. Since when did he care about how he ate in front of anyone?] Just makes it easier this way. [To clarify, he spins his wrist and all five of his fingers fan open; their crooked nails, as smooth as a black, filed-point fork.]
[Greed lets his wrist fall limp.] But if it's gunna be a problem, we'll do it your way this time. [The look he shoots over his shoulder may be sarcastic, but there's something else there too. Something warm, something accepting, and as the former homunculus reaches for the bag, he drops his leg off his knee.] Usually these places pack some anyway. [He starts as he begins to dig through the plastic.] And it would be a waste if we didn't use 'em, right?
[Is it a good save? Probably not. But it's as good enough as any.]