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yeah you do. no point in arguing with you is there ? and eh. dont worry about it. not like i havent touched them before. ill be a bit more mindful this time
oh i can do a lot more than that. but i dont have to tell you do i? i'm still messing with you by the way. so dont get your feathers more ruffled than they already are
[It doesn't come through the text, but that grin of his. Oh, is it beaming. Beaming and pleased, because he could say something about his legs working just fine now. But for the time being, he saves it.]
its fine. we don't open for another few hours anyway. besides i've been meaning to talk to you about something. well someone actually. there's a kid upstairs. might need you to keep an eye on her when i cant
would be a waste of both of our time. i already know how stubborn you can be.
yeah ? a little tender huh ? you really needd to watch how you say things lovely. and i;'ve heard that before. but somthing tells me you wouldnt like me as much if i didnt keep you on your toes once in a while
not exactly. shes one of mine but not in the way that you think. this place isnt exactly made for kids. ill fill you in later
[As soon as he sees that apology though, the Sin lowers the phone. He lets his head hang over the backside of the sofa; his groan, elongated and irritable. How many times is he going to have to tell him?]
[Too many, it seems.]
yeah sure. and you can stop that yknow. those sorries of hyours. not like youre bothering me blue eyes
[ Greed gets left on read for the duration of the time it takes Michael to fulfill his previous obligations. A full ten minutes later and, surprisingly, Michael doesn’t appear. It takes an extra five minutes for him to get to him. The reason is evident the moment he walks in the door, his movements are stiff.
True to his usual natural, he turns a smile on the Sin’s back the second he sees him, folding his arms across his chest. His wings aren’t out, something he’s started to do a lot when he descends the elevator. Better to blend in even if Nobunaga is no longer here to hound the angels for their audacity. ]
Truly insufferable, remind me again why I put up with you? And leave anything that happens behind closed doors out of it. I’m just going to chalk you keeping me on my toes up to part of your charm.
[ Michael crosses the room and takes a seat on one of the stools, testing for stickiness on the bar top before he folds his arms over it. This is a new suit, he had to replace his other favorite one because someone felt the need to take their claws to it. Not that he was complaining at the time, or now. He felt that night for a day or two after, something he probably reprimanded the former homunculus for at some point. He did warn him, however, and Greed has never lied to him. ]
So, tell me more about your charge.
[ He doesn’t say anything about the apology, the somewhat self-satisfied look on his face should be enough. ]
[He doesn't even have to turn around to know just who has come walking through the door; the soft sigh from the front entrance is enough to announce him. Besides, he said he would be coming, didn't he? If nothing else, the Archangel is a stickler for his schedule.]
[Though, him being late? That, that, is new.]
[The Sin slouches forward. With his back to Michael, he reaches across the bar to snag two empty glasses. He stretches his fingers to sink them inside and as his claws hook the brims, he pinches the both of them together. Tnk.] Insufferable, huh? Y'know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just making up excuses at this point, Blue Eyes.
[The corner of his lip lifts, tripling his smile over in the variety of bottles lined up against the back wall. He can make out Michael's reflection in the clutter of it all: the crisp cut of his new suit, the way he feels out the counter for its hard-grained stickiness. Greed makes a soft sound in his nose and as he drops the glasses in the back-prep sink, he dips his ear playfully towards his shoulder.] Wasn't going to, though I didn't realize those were off limits. [His sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the former homunculus lets his eyes meet Michael through the mirror's smoke-stained glass; the look on his face, subtle and smug.]
[Finally though, he turns on his heel, leaving the glasses in the tub of the sink.] My - ? She's not my charge, Blues. [He flits his claws through the air, sending a glint of dusk tumbling away.] She's just a kid. But we can get to that once we've taken care of that problem of yours.
[Without an invitation (because when has he ever, ever asked), the Sin makes his way out from behind the bar. He snatches a couple of things as he goes (a partially filled bucket of ice, a clean towel, and a fresh ashtray); his wandering fingers, mindlessly picking up whatever he can grab.]
[When he makes his way to Michael, he scatters the collection down carelessly on top of the barstool closest to him. However, for a second or two, that's how he stays. And maybe it's nothing, but the way he taps his foot - ]
[Greed nips the inside of his cheek.] So, how do we do this, exactly?
Still cleaning up? It must have been an interesting night. Sorry I didn’t drop by, I’ve been training someone outside of the self-defense classes. She has difficulty controlling her power, who better to train her than a control freak?
[ He shoots a smile at his back before he turns around, looking at his reflection in the bottles. Insufferable. ]
Excuses? I admitted you were charming, that is an incredible amount of praise coming from me. But of course you want more, hm? What else should I praise, then? How about your style? Your ability to dazzle a crowd? [ He rests his cheek against his palm and follows him with his eyes, his smile softening a bit. ] They aren’t but the walls have ears and I’d rather not give the demons of my world any ammunition. I’m a private person.
Do you always look out for the children? [ The look he gives him is a playful one, calling him soft without words. But that is one of the reasons he respects him so much, he does care for the little guys. ] I find it hard to believe you’re unable to multitask, but very well. You wouldn’t be anxious, would you? You can’t hurt me and even if you pull the wrong feather, it will grow back.
[ While Greed emerges from the bar he unfurls his wings and stretches them out a bit. They are no worse for the wear save for a few small patches of singed feathers. There are already a few new feathers growing in to replace the ones he has already lost. ]
For now? If you could just help me get rid of the burnt feathers, I would appreciate it. It shouldn’t take much effort to loosen them, they’ve been falling out all day. Our last training session ended on an interesting note. I think I overdid it this week, I woke up feeling like I had just been hit by a bus.
[ Does that mean Mr. Workaholic is going to skip his class tomorrow? Absolutely not. ]
Not exactly. Was just finishing up some business, is all. [The Sin distractedly flicks his wrist. Immediately, the part of the 'Shield covering his hand begins its slow-crawl creep. It engulfs the leather bands hung loosely on his forearm, causing them to snap back flat against his skin. Greed flexes his claws.] Someone new, huh? She sounds pretty interesting. Haven't run into anyone who couldn't control their abilities before. Not here, at least. Gunna guess she's a new one. That right?
[The former homunculus pinches his sunglasses at the corner of the frame. Casually, he shoves them between two of his horns, and a lewd curl tightens on his lip. Truly, there's no ego as big enough, as persistent enough, as avarice itself.] Mmn. That's a lot, coming from you. But you know me, I always want more. [While there's no one else around to catch them, he still plays it coy. The length of his tail twirls about the barstool. It weaves between the rails as nimbly as an eel, leaving the tip of it a hair from the Archangel's ankle.]
[He unwinds it not a second later.] Yeah, I know. And you already said it yourself. You're a little bit of a control freak there, Blue Eyes. [A warm expression settles on his face. Pleasant, soft. The Sin reaches behind him with his foot and as he hooks the rung of the stool with his heel, he yanks it closer.] Ehhh, wasn't really something I was planning on. Not really the type of guy that deals with kids -
[And he's about to finish that sentence, but like always, Michael's keen eye for observation meets its mark. The former homunculus fumbles. The back of his heel slips along the stool, nearly catching itself in the process, and the ice bucket jumps off the seat. Greed bites back a curse. Thankfully, his reflexes kick in just in time to grab the handle before it meets its maker on the floor. The Sin hisses, and the spines on the tip of his tail quiver at his feet.]
Tch. Yeah, well. It's not like I've done this before. Give me a little credit, would ya? [He tries to collect himself as he shoves the ice back onto the center of the stool.] Y'know, I keep saying it, but you really are a pissant.
[When he sees the feathers (singed, burnt, charred), Greed narrows his eyes. He lowers himself into a half-squat to comb the tips of his claws through one of them.] I'm surprised she even got this close. [He pinches his middle finger and thumb together, finding them through the curled tufts.] And I could tell you to take a break, but you and I both know that there'd be no point.
[Without warning, he plucks the feather, setting it aside on the barstool. Casual as he may be, there is a slight stiffness to him. The hard set of his shoulders, a dead give away.]
[Greed reaches into the ice bucket. He traps a single cube between his pinkie and thumb before pressing it against Michael's wing. A little chill to beat the heat.] She got a name? Would be interested to meet the one person in this place that could actually give you a run for your money.
Not so much new. Admittedly, I chose to take her and her friends under my wing — whether they like it or not, they are children and I worry for them. A world like this is no place for kids their age but, then again, I suppose everyone is a child compared to me. [ Thoughtfully, he purses his lips and levels a glance in his direction. ] Maybe I am meddling too much, but who can say?
[ The intentions behind the words are as clear as day and he rolls his eyes, turning away to mask his amusement. No, there are no unwanted eyes here, he nearly even allows himself to reach out to touch him but his tail slithers away as quickly as it came. To compensate, one of his wings gently nudge against Greed. ] Haven’t you ever heard that good things come to those who wait? Ask me again later.
[ While choosing not to elaborate, he does look at the bottles behind the bar to take in the reflection of the former homunculus. Whatever this is still doesn’t come easy to him, so he will have to be satisfied with what Michael has given him. A promise, undoubtedly, of another night where he will get virtually no work done. ]
Careful, Greed, your kindness is showing. What will the neighbors think? [ He turns his head just enough to where he can see his little smirk before it disappears. ] You’re doing fine and I have the added benefit of knowing you wouldn’t hurt me. Not intentionally. If you keep saying it like that, I am going to start assuming it’s a term of endearment.
[ Anything else he is going to say is cut off by a soft hiss not because of the pain but because of the ice. He nearly jolts off of the stool before begrudgingly sliding back into place, leaning into the relief. Sure, he saw him with the bucket of ice but did not put two and two together. ]
I thought that if she saw me, I might be able to pull more of her consciousness out. I was mistaken. I don’t know what she has been through in life but I believe she suffered. Perhaps the dragon is a defense mechanism, a way to protect herself from things that gave her grief in her own world. It isn’t unheard of.
[ He scoffs then sighs. ] A run for my money, hm? Maybe I really am becoming a sentimental fool here. In four months, I will have been here for a year.
[A tease of a laugh shies through the sharps of his teeth. Greed adjusts the cube of ice. He presses it between the pins of Michael's feathers and a trickle of cold-tap sweat dribbles down his wrist.] Looks like you did a little more than take them under your wing, Blues. But that's just how you are, huh? That nature of yours - you couldn't let them be even if you wanted to. It's not a bad thing, y'know.
No, but it's not like they had much of a choice. [He trails the sliver of ice up one of the feathers that isn't so worse for wear, flattening the edges of it to a damp, smeared point.] You already know the answer to that. Whether you like it or not, you've got a habit of finding trouble. Starting to wonder if you're doing it on purpose, or if you just have rotten luck. [With a slurred purr trapped at the roof of his mouth, the Sin calmly jerks his wrist. He catches two more feathers on the mercy of his claws; the slice of them clean and careful.]
[This isn't the first time he's had to patch up someone in his bar, after all.]
[The former homunculus drops both feathers on top of the stool. A pile to collect on later.] Ha - ! Just because I'm greedy, doesn't mean I can't wait. Think I've already shown you I can be patient when I have to be, hmn? [The nudge from him, though - it immediately changes his expression. His smile softens, the points of his teeth disappear. However, when the Archangel calls him out and reads him for every inch of his filth, the Sin's upper lip creases. It pulls at the corner of his mouth, exposing a glimpse of his gums; his belligerence nothing more than huff of air. He needles one of his nails at the end of a coiled-charred feather and as the tip of it digs, he plucks it. The motion more similar to a man, yanking out a stubborn, stuck-in hair.]
Oi, oi, oi. Kindness has nothing to do with it. C'mon, you know me better than that. Don't start taking me for something I'm not again. [He pinches three more feathers and with a ginger swipe of his pinkie, he cuts them loose.] A couple of imps have been making a point of causing problems for those upstairs lately. [He dives one of his hands back into the bucket, and the ice shakes back. Chh, chh, chh.] Had to remind them how things work.
[It would be easy to read between the lines: he had a chat. A little conversation to set the record straight. And if more than a couple of egos got bruised in the process? Well.]
[It's not like he didn't warn them, did he?]
[The tip of his tail curls curiously off the floor, and the Sin knuckles a couple of cubes from the chiller.] Oh ho - ! A dragon, huh? Now, that is something - [Against his heat, the ice doesn't stand a chance. Greed gathers a handful in his fingers. He guides his fist up Michael's unfurled wing, drawing a lick of cool water against a cluster of soot.] - and she can just turn into one whenever she wants?
[But the excitement is short lived. Because he knows a thing or two about that doesn't he? About people, about people who aren't, and the defensiveness that comes with being in a cage, physical or otherwise. And maybe it's not the same. Maybe it's different. Still - ]
[Greed sucks at the back of his teeth and his eyes narrow, distant. He numbly flattens his palm over the edge of Michael's wing and as the hooks of his claws hover over each and every feather, he mindlessly rolls his shoulder.] Couldn't say, but it wouldn't be the first time. The ones I knew - ehh, doesn't matter. [He folds over another feather to examine it.]
Kisara. [He repeats as he maps out the tufts with the side of his thumb. They flutter past his nail as slowly as fanning cash; their flit, light and fluttering. The former homunculus pats two of his finger together, teasing at the feather's stiff vein.] You've always been sentimental, Blues. Don't think being here has changed that.
[When he finally gets to the tip, he brushes the underside of his claw against it to comb the down straight. Greed flicks his eyes upward. The tenseness may be gone, but that smolder: it says something else, doesn't it? And sure, he never has to worry about Michael, not really. But that avarice of his, well.]
[It makes the choice for him, doesn't it?]
[The Sin wipes his hand on his thigh, brushing away what little is left of the ice.] Endearment, huh? Dunno, handsome. Guess you've grown on me a bit. [With that, he raises his arm and flicks his fingers to try to sprinkle the Archangel broadside in the face.]
Maybe. Wayward souls have flocked to me since Lucifer left, he must have left a flyer with my phone number on it somewhere. Little imp. [ A fond smile paints his lips rather than the alternative, his face softening considerably. His greatest joy here was reconciling with his brother, it still gives him hope that things can change back home. As does the mark left on his skin from their deal.
At them not having a choice? Yeah, he does not argue. Debating the contrary would be a lie. ] Perhaps a bit of both, I suppose old habits die hard. I feel that if I come across the danger first, maybe I can spare them from it. How very naive for an Archangel, I was never this sentimental back home. I treasure people and things like anyone else would, I just have the ability to protect them.
As for rotten luck.. [ He cuts himself off with a laugh, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. ] I thought that was a given considering my name. Morningstars are notoriously difficult to deal with, as I’m sure you’re well aware. [ A joke. Maybe. His shoulder flexes and with it a wing, though not enough to jar any of the progress going on. ] You know I don’t do well with the cold.
Your kindness is an asset, don’t throw it aside so casually. I’ve told you before that anything spoken between these walls remains here, your secret is safe with me. [ He looks over a shoulder and locks in on him but says nothing more on the matter. Yet again, he knows him better than he knows himself and that’s enough for him. Only one of the people in the room carries the name of Greed. ]
I would ask for the names of the troublesome imps but I have a feeling you’ve already dealt with them sufficiently. [ Likely with a bit more persuasion than he would have used but out of sight, out of mind. Much like his shady dealings if he can’t see it, he doesn’t have to dwell on it. ] Yes, but she lacks her sense of self when she does. I chose Hell as our sparring ground because the collateral damage would be less. I think I’ve seen more battles here than I saw in Heaven, no one would bat an eye at the noise.
[ Unconsciously or otherwise, he leans into the touch like a demanding cat, the wing in question almost seeming to shiver. Plucking feathers is one thing, stroking them in this manner is another. ] Would you be willing to meet her? There is a reason I’m telling you about her. Suffice to say, there isn’t a soul in either realm that I trust more than you. If something ever happens to me.. [ If he returns home. ] Don’t feel obligated, there’s a reason I’m training her.
[ He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice the water until it splatters against his face. Michael jerks back like he was just slapped, covers his cheek and twists his torso around slowly to gape at him. Did he really just do that? ]
Sometimes I forget you’re hundreds of years old.
[ Ignore the fact that his eyes are currently flicking to the bucket, to Greed, and then back to the bucket again. It would be immature to retaliate but everything in him wants to reach out, take it, and return fire. It would be the snowball fight all over again, version 2.0. It would also be a poor way to repay his kindness but all’s fair in love and war. ]
[But if he's worried about retaliation? It doesn't show. Instead, the Sin crouches down again. He settles on the back of his heels and as he plants one of his elbows into his knee, he continues his thorough inspection. With two of his knuckles curled into his palm, he follows Michael's wingtips; the graze of him, a hair, an inch, away.]
Luce always did have a soft spot for those that didn't have much to begin with. Wouldn't surprise me if he had a plan in place in case the ones in charge decided to send him back. [Another tuft catches his eye, and the former homunculus runs his thumb down the stem of it. One, snappish turn of his wrist, and he pulls it free.] Though, think you're selling yourself short there, Blue Eyes. The people here - [Languidly, he turns his attention on the feather. He twirls it slowly between his fingers; its spin, punctuated by the soft fltt, fltt, fltt of down.] - well, you've already shown them that not all you righteous types are so high and mighty, hmn?
[No, in his time here, Michael has made it a point to extend his hand. To offer his shoulder, his ear, and all else to everyone and anyone willing to meet him halfway.]
[Greed reaches behind the small of his back to tuck the feather into the lip of his pants.] Yeah I know. You Morningstars are sometimes a whole lot more trouble than you're worth. Can't make anything easy, can you? [The Sin lulls his head back, shutting one of his eyes.] Though maybe next time, try not to get burned, would ya? [Casually, the former homunculus rubs two of his hands together, causing the surface of his 'Shield to clash as lightly skipping rocks. He places one of them where the ice had been moments prior; his warmth less broiling and more similar to the broadside of a simmered-down furnace.]
[The Sin clicks his teeth.] You could say that. Some people still don't know that it's better to take my deal. [And oh, he doesn't miss that. That shiver. That subtle quake of Michael's wing as part of him slowly, slowly, arches into the touch. No matter how many times he sees it, it's something he'll never quite get enough of. Of the Archangel letting go, of giving in, and if he's lingering a bit longer than he should?]
[Well, he's already said it before, hasn't he? How he's never, truly satisfied.]
[Greed slumps his weight to the side, and his tail licks across the floorboards. The tip of it, however - he could say nothing, and it would still give him all away. How the spines breathe open and clatter together with a hint, an idea, of a rattle.]
["If something ever happens to me .."]
[The former homunculus limply lifts his wrist.] Yeah sure, bring her by. And who said anything about feeling obligated? I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to, Blues. [With all four of his hands flat on his thighs, he gradually pushes himself upright, and the buzz of his tail quiets again, shrill. Resigned. Arguing about it would be moot.]
[So instead, he drops his shoulders, forcing his vest to slip down the curve of his back.] That was your first mistake. [Greed pulls one of his arms out and as the weight of the collar drops, he sinks his claws between the fur.] I might not be as old as you, but that doesn't mean I'm young either. Though, that's interesting. Saying I look good for my age, Feathers? [The forks of his tongue tease behind his teeth, and the Sin tosses the vest onto the counter. He makes his way around the other side of the barstool and as he starts on another wing, he raises one of his fingers towards the ceiling.]
I saw that, y'know. Remember, the cold doesn't bother me as much as it does you. [He catches Michael with his eyes and oh. Oh, does his smile spell nothing but bad, bad, bad.] Sure you wanna try it? I won't go easy on you this time.
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oh i can do a lot more than that. but i dont have to tell you do i? i'm still messing with you by the way. so dont get your feathers more ruffled than they already are
[It doesn't come through the text, but that grin of his. Oh, is it beaming. Beaming and pleased, because he could say something about his legs working just fine now. But for the time being, he saves it.]
its fine. we don't open for another few hours anyway. besides i've been meaning to talk to you about something. well someone actually. there's a kid upstairs. might need you to keep an eye on her when i cant
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[ He walks right into it every time. ]
You are insufferable. No, I don’t think an explanation is necessary. I’m well aware of what you can do.
Someone you’ve taken a shine to? Tell me about her when I get there, I’m almost done with my paperwork. I can be there in ten minutes. Oh, and Greed?
Thank you, and sorry for the imposition. [ Thankfully he can’t see the smile on his end. Don’t tease him on the network. ]
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yeah ? a little tender huh ? you really needd to watch how you say things lovely. and i;'ve heard that before. but somthing tells me you wouldnt like me as much if i didnt keep you on your toes once in a while
not exactly. shes one of mine but not in the way that you think. this place isnt exactly made for kids. ill fill you in later
[As soon as he sees that apology though, the Sin lowers the phone. He lets his head hang over the backside of the sofa; his groan, elongated and irritable. How many times is he going to have to tell him?]
[Too many, it seems.]
yeah sure. and you can stop that yknow. those sorries of hyours. not like youre bothering me blue eyes
no subject
True to his usual natural, he turns a smile on the Sin’s back the second he sees him, folding his arms across his chest. His wings aren’t out, something he’s started to do a lot when he descends the elevator. Better to blend in even if Nobunaga is no longer here to hound the angels for their audacity. ]
Truly insufferable, remind me again why I put up with you? And leave anything that happens behind closed doors out of it. I’m just going to chalk you keeping me on my toes up to part of your charm.
[ Michael crosses the room and takes a seat on one of the stools, testing for stickiness on the bar top before he folds his arms over it. This is a new suit, he had to replace his other favorite one because someone felt the need to take their claws to it. Not that he was complaining at the time, or now. He felt that night for a day or two after, something he probably reprimanded the former homunculus for at some point. He did warn him, however, and Greed has never lied to him. ]
So, tell me more about your charge.
[ He doesn’t say anything about the apology, the somewhat self-satisfied look on his face should be enough. ]
no subject
[Though, him being late? That, that, is new.]
[The Sin slouches forward. With his back to Michael, he reaches across the bar to snag two empty glasses. He stretches his fingers to sink them inside and as his claws hook the brims, he pinches the both of them together. Tnk.] Insufferable, huh? Y'know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just making up excuses at this point, Blue Eyes.
[The corner of his lip lifts, tripling his smile over in the variety of bottles lined up against the back wall. He can make out Michael's reflection in the clutter of it all: the crisp cut of his new suit, the way he feels out the counter for its hard-grained stickiness. Greed makes a soft sound in his nose and as he drops the glasses in the back-prep sink, he dips his ear playfully towards his shoulder.] Wasn't going to, though I didn't realize those were off limits. [His sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the former homunculus lets his eyes meet Michael through the mirror's smoke-stained glass; the look on his face, subtle and smug.]
[Finally though, he turns on his heel, leaving the glasses in the tub of the sink.] My - ? She's not my charge, Blues. [He flits his claws through the air, sending a glint of dusk tumbling away.] She's just a kid. But we can get to that once we've taken care of that problem of yours.
[Without an invitation (because when has he ever, ever asked), the Sin makes his way out from behind the bar. He snatches a couple of things as he goes (a partially filled bucket of ice, a clean towel, and a fresh ashtray); his wandering fingers, mindlessly picking up whatever he can grab.]
[When he makes his way to Michael, he scatters the collection down carelessly on top of the barstool closest to him. However, for a second or two, that's how he stays. And maybe it's nothing, but the way he taps his foot - ]
[Greed nips the inside of his cheek.] So, how do we do this, exactly?
no subject
[ He shoots a smile at his back before he turns around, looking at his reflection in the bottles. Insufferable. ]
Excuses? I admitted you were charming, that is an incredible amount of praise coming from me. But of course you want more, hm? What else should I praise, then? How about your style? Your ability to dazzle a crowd? [ He rests his cheek against his palm and follows him with his eyes, his smile softening a bit. ] They aren’t but the walls have ears and I’d rather not give the demons of my world any ammunition. I’m a private person.
Do you always look out for the children? [ The look he gives him is a playful one, calling him soft without words. But that is one of the reasons he respects him so much, he does care for the little guys. ] I find it hard to believe you’re unable to multitask, but very well. You wouldn’t be anxious, would you? You can’t hurt me and even if you pull the wrong feather, it will grow back.
[ While Greed emerges from the bar he unfurls his wings and stretches them out a bit. They are no worse for the wear save for a few small patches of singed feathers. There are already a few new feathers growing in to replace the ones he has already lost. ]
For now? If you could just help me get rid of the burnt feathers, I would appreciate it. It shouldn’t take much effort to loosen them, they’ve been falling out all day. Our last training session ended on an interesting note. I think I overdid it this week, I woke up feeling like I had just been hit by a bus.
[ Does that mean Mr. Workaholic is going to skip his class tomorrow? Absolutely not. ]
I USED THE SAME PHRASE TWICE ...
[The former homunculus pinches his sunglasses at the corner of the frame. Casually, he shoves them between two of his horns, and a lewd curl tightens on his lip. Truly, there's no ego as big enough, as persistent enough, as avarice itself.] Mmn. That's a lot, coming from you. But you know me, I always want more. [While there's no one else around to catch them, he still plays it coy. The length of his tail twirls about the barstool. It weaves between the rails as nimbly as an eel, leaving the tip of it a hair from the Archangel's ankle.]
[He unwinds it not a second later.] Yeah, I know. And you already said it yourself. You're a little bit of a control freak there, Blue Eyes. [A warm expression settles on his face. Pleasant, soft. The Sin reaches behind him with his foot and as he hooks the rung of the stool with his heel, he yanks it closer.] Ehhh, wasn't really something I was planning on. Not really the type of guy that deals with kids -
[And he's about to finish that sentence, but like always, Michael's keen eye for observation meets its mark. The former homunculus fumbles. The back of his heel slips along the stool, nearly catching itself in the process, and the ice bucket jumps off the seat. Greed bites back a curse. Thankfully, his reflexes kick in just in time to grab the handle before it meets its maker on the floor. The Sin hisses, and the spines on the tip of his tail quiver at his feet.]
Tch. Yeah, well. It's not like I've done this before. Give me a little credit, would ya? [He tries to collect himself as he shoves the ice back onto the center of the stool.] Y'know, I keep saying it, but you really are a pissant.
[When he sees the feathers (singed, burnt, charred), Greed narrows his eyes. He lowers himself into a half-squat to comb the tips of his claws through one of them.] I'm surprised she even got this close. [He pinches his middle finger and thumb together, finding them through the curled tufts.] And I could tell you to take a break, but you and I both know that there'd be no point.
[Without warning, he plucks the feather, setting it aside on the barstool. Casual as he may be, there is a slight stiffness to him. The hard set of his shoulders, a dead give away.]
[Greed reaches into the ice bucket. He traps a single cube between his pinkie and thumb before pressing it against Michael's wing. A little chill to beat the heat.] She got a name? Would be interested to meet the one person in this place that could actually give you a run for your money.
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[ The intentions behind the words are as clear as day and he rolls his eyes, turning away to mask his amusement. No, there are no unwanted eyes here, he nearly even allows himself to reach out to touch him but his tail slithers away as quickly as it came. To compensate, one of his wings gently nudge against Greed. ] Haven’t you ever heard that good things come to those who wait? Ask me again later.
[ While choosing not to elaborate, he does look at the bottles behind the bar to take in the reflection of the former homunculus. Whatever this is still doesn’t come easy to him, so he will have to be satisfied with what Michael has given him. A promise, undoubtedly, of another night where he will get virtually no work done. ]
Careful, Greed, your kindness is showing. What will the neighbors think? [ He turns his head just enough to where he can see his little smirk before it disappears. ] You’re doing fine and I have the added benefit of knowing you wouldn’t hurt me. Not intentionally. If you keep saying it like that, I am going to start assuming it’s a term of endearment.
[ Anything else he is going to say is cut off by a soft hiss not because of the pain but because of the ice. He nearly jolts off of the stool before begrudgingly sliding back into place, leaning into the relief. Sure, he saw him with the bucket of ice but did not put two and two together. ]
I thought that if she saw me, I might be able to pull more of her consciousness out. I was mistaken. I don’t know what she has been through in life but I believe she suffered. Perhaps the dragon is a defense mechanism, a way to protect herself from things that gave her grief in her own world. It isn’t unheard of.
[ He scoffs then sighs. ] A run for my money, hm? Maybe I really am becoming a sentimental fool here. In four months, I will have been here for a year.
Her name is Kisara.
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No, but it's not like they had much of a choice. [He trails the sliver of ice up one of the feathers that isn't so worse for wear, flattening the edges of it to a damp, smeared point.] You already know the answer to that. Whether you like it or not, you've got a habit of finding trouble. Starting to wonder if you're doing it on purpose, or if you just have rotten luck. [With a slurred purr trapped at the roof of his mouth, the Sin calmly jerks his wrist. He catches two more feathers on the mercy of his claws; the slice of them clean and careful.]
[This isn't the first time he's had to patch up someone in his bar, after all.]
[The former homunculus drops both feathers on top of the stool. A pile to collect on later.] Ha - ! Just because I'm greedy, doesn't mean I can't wait. Think I've already shown you I can be patient when I have to be, hmn? [The nudge from him, though - it immediately changes his expression. His smile softens, the points of his teeth disappear. However, when the Archangel calls him out and reads him for every inch of his filth, the Sin's upper lip creases. It pulls at the corner of his mouth, exposing a glimpse of his gums; his belligerence nothing more than huff of air. He needles one of his nails at the end of a coiled-charred feather and as the tip of it digs, he plucks it. The motion more similar to a man, yanking out a stubborn, stuck-in hair.]
Oi, oi, oi. Kindness has nothing to do with it. C'mon, you know me better than that. Don't start taking me for something I'm not again. [He pinches three more feathers and with a ginger swipe of his pinkie, he cuts them loose.] A couple of imps have been making a point of causing problems for those upstairs lately. [He dives one of his hands back into the bucket, and the ice shakes back. Chh, chh, chh.] Had to remind them how things work.
[It would be easy to read between the lines: he had a chat. A little conversation to set the record straight. And if more than a couple of egos got bruised in the process? Well.]
[It's not like he didn't warn them, did he?]
[The tip of his tail curls curiously off the floor, and the Sin knuckles a couple of cubes from the chiller.] Oh ho - ! A dragon, huh? Now, that is something - [Against his heat, the ice doesn't stand a chance. Greed gathers a handful in his fingers. He guides his fist up Michael's unfurled wing, drawing a lick of cool water against a cluster of soot.] - and she can just turn into one whenever she wants?
[But the excitement is short lived. Because he knows a thing or two about that doesn't he? About people, about people who aren't, and the defensiveness that comes with being in a cage, physical or otherwise. And maybe it's not the same. Maybe it's different. Still - ]
[Greed sucks at the back of his teeth and his eyes narrow, distant. He numbly flattens his palm over the edge of Michael's wing and as the hooks of his claws hover over each and every feather, he mindlessly rolls his shoulder.] Couldn't say, but it wouldn't be the first time. The ones I knew - ehh, doesn't matter. [He folds over another feather to examine it.]
Kisara. [He repeats as he maps out the tufts with the side of his thumb. They flutter past his nail as slowly as fanning cash; their flit, light and fluttering. The former homunculus pats two of his finger together, teasing at the feather's stiff vein.] You've always been sentimental, Blues. Don't think being here has changed that.
[When he finally gets to the tip, he brushes the underside of his claw against it to comb the down straight. Greed flicks his eyes upward. The tenseness may be gone, but that smolder: it says something else, doesn't it? And sure, he never has to worry about Michael, not really. But that avarice of his, well.]
[It makes the choice for him, doesn't it?]
[The Sin wipes his hand on his thigh, brushing away what little is left of the ice.] Endearment, huh? Dunno, handsome. Guess you've grown on me a bit. [With that, he raises his arm and flicks his fingers to try to sprinkle the Archangel broadside in the face.]
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At them not having a choice? Yeah, he does not argue. Debating the contrary would be a lie. ] Perhaps a bit of both, I suppose old habits die hard. I feel that if I come across the danger first, maybe I can spare them from it. How very naive for an Archangel, I was never this sentimental back home. I treasure people and things like anyone else would, I just have the ability to protect them.
As for rotten luck.. [ He cuts himself off with a laugh, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. ] I thought that was a given considering my name. Morningstars are notoriously difficult to deal with, as I’m sure you’re well aware. [ A joke. Maybe. His shoulder flexes and with it a wing, though not enough to jar any of the progress going on. ] You know I don’t do well with the cold.
Your kindness is an asset, don’t throw it aside so casually. I’ve told you before that anything spoken between these walls remains here, your secret is safe with me. [ He looks over a shoulder and locks in on him but says nothing more on the matter. Yet again, he knows him better than he knows himself and that’s enough for him. Only one of the people in the room carries the name of Greed. ]
I would ask for the names of the troublesome imps but I have a feeling you’ve already dealt with them sufficiently. [ Likely with a bit more persuasion than he would have used but out of sight, out of mind. Much like his shady dealings if he can’t see it, he doesn’t have to dwell on it. ] Yes, but she lacks her sense of self when she does. I chose Hell as our sparring ground because the collateral damage would be less. I think I’ve seen more battles here than I saw in Heaven, no one would bat an eye at the noise.
[ Unconsciously or otherwise, he leans into the touch like a demanding cat, the wing in question almost seeming to shiver. Plucking feathers is one thing, stroking them in this manner is another. ] Would you be willing to meet her? There is a reason I’m telling you about her. Suffice to say, there isn’t a soul in either realm that I trust more than you. If something ever happens to me.. [ If he returns home. ] Don’t feel obligated, there’s a reason I’m training her.
[ He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice the water until it splatters against his face. Michael jerks back like he was just slapped, covers his cheek and twists his torso around slowly to gape at him. Did he really just do that? ]
Sometimes I forget you’re hundreds of years old.
[ Ignore the fact that his eyes are currently flicking to the bucket, to Greed, and then back to the bucket again. It would be immature to retaliate but everything in him wants to reach out, take it, and return fire. It would be the snowball fight all over again, version 2.0. It would also be a poor way to repay his kindness but all’s fair in love and war. ]
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Luce always did have a soft spot for those that didn't have much to begin with. Wouldn't surprise me if he had a plan in place in case the ones in charge decided to send him back. [Another tuft catches his eye, and the former homunculus runs his thumb down the stem of it. One, snappish turn of his wrist, and he pulls it free.] Though, think you're selling yourself short there, Blue Eyes. The people here - [Languidly, he turns his attention on the feather. He twirls it slowly between his fingers; its spin, punctuated by the soft fltt, fltt, fltt of down.] - well, you've already shown them that not all you righteous types are so high and mighty, hmn?
[No, in his time here, Michael has made it a point to extend his hand. To offer his shoulder, his ear, and all else to everyone and anyone willing to meet him halfway.]
[Greed reaches behind the small of his back to tuck the feather into the lip of his pants.] Yeah I know. You Morningstars are sometimes a whole lot more trouble than you're worth. Can't make anything easy, can you? [The Sin lulls his head back, shutting one of his eyes.] Though maybe next time, try not to get burned, would ya? [Casually, the former homunculus rubs two of his hands together, causing the surface of his 'Shield to clash as lightly skipping rocks. He places one of them where the ice had been moments prior; his warmth less broiling and more similar to the broadside of a simmered-down furnace.]
[The Sin clicks his teeth.] You could say that. Some people still don't know that it's better to take my deal. [And oh, he doesn't miss that. That shiver. That subtle quake of Michael's wing as part of him slowly, slowly, arches into the touch. No matter how many times he sees it, it's something he'll never quite get enough of. Of the Archangel letting go, of giving in, and if he's lingering a bit longer than he should?]
[Well, he's already said it before, hasn't he? How he's never, truly satisfied.]
[Greed slumps his weight to the side, and his tail licks across the floorboards. The tip of it, however - he could say nothing, and it would still give him all away. How the spines breathe open and clatter together with a hint, an idea, of a rattle.]
["If something ever happens to me .."]
[The former homunculus limply lifts his wrist.] Yeah sure, bring her by. And who said anything about feeling obligated? I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to, Blues. [With all four of his hands flat on his thighs, he gradually pushes himself upright, and the buzz of his tail quiets again, shrill. Resigned. Arguing about it would be moot.]
[So instead, he drops his shoulders, forcing his vest to slip down the curve of his back.] That was your first mistake. [Greed pulls one of his arms out and as the weight of the collar drops, he sinks his claws between the fur.] I might not be as old as you, but that doesn't mean I'm young either. Though, that's interesting. Saying I look good for my age, Feathers? [The forks of his tongue tease behind his teeth, and the Sin tosses the vest onto the counter. He makes his way around the other side of the barstool and as he starts on another wing, he raises one of his fingers towards the ceiling.]
I saw that, y'know. Remember, the cold doesn't bother me as much as it does you. [He catches Michael with his eyes and oh. Oh, does his smile spell nothing but bad, bad, bad.] Sure you wanna try it? I won't go easy on you this time.