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Mm, So I guess if you were some sort of emporer or— [Why does the word "fuhrer" come to mind?] —royalty or whatever, you would've let us know by now, huh.
[She chuckles warmly (and reigning it in quickly, watching his head boounce around on her chest when she laughs just starts an endless cycle of giggles) gently stroking her claws across his scalp, around the base of his horns— she's learned that it feels really good to give herself a scritch around the horn, so why not share the pleasure, right? That's what they've gotten used to doing anyway.]
Mm... Though. I... Do have an... actual question. [And he doesn't hold anything back, she knows. He's done nothing but be honest with her.]
We know of the Seven Deadly Sins in my world, with Greed or... I think it's "Avarice," maybe? Bein' one of one of them. Then there's Lust and Sloth... Pride... Envy... [She's counting off on her unoccupied hand.] Oh! And Wrath, lord, I'd get in trouble for Wrath... I'm... Missing one, but anyway—
That means there's probably more of you, right? More living sins?
[The image in her mind's eye flashes to a small group of black-clad people with one swathed in white, watching her from far below. Her chest aches for a moment, but she shakes herself from the feeling.]
Or... did you name yourself after them? I know it's probably a silly question.
Well, now that you mention it - [Greed lifts his arm, tipping his wrist and cocking out his thumb and index finger like a gun ready to fire.] - I was in the body of a prince once. A little shit that was going to be emperor at the end of it all. Does that count? [He doesn't want to think about Ling too much when they're like this, but it's a nice memory. The pissant had a crown in his mind's eye, and he had been all too willing to follow that road to its conclusion. Was going to, even in their final moments.]
[Promises, though. They're sometimes made to be broken. Not often, not even more than once. But that one time had been enough. Enough, enough, enough.]
[The Sin's eyes drearily open to watch the last hints of smoke fade in the hollow of her room. She asks something and she doesn't know. How could she? It's easy to assume there's more of them. After all, seven makes a set. However, that set has never really suited him. The way he was made, the reason he was created in the first place. Greed drops his hand to rest it on her knee. He lets his claws trace the warmth of the sheets, to feel the richness of them that has nothing to do with the fabric count and everything to do with her right here, right now.]
Avarice. Greed the Avaricious. [He speaks his own name, his fully given title, like a secret in the dark.] And yeah, you've got most of them. Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Envy - [His voice hitches in his throat, chokes itself there, then squeezes through his teeth like a gunk-covered vent.] - Wrath. [The muscles in him tense before he can stop himself. Because unlike most things, it's that sin in particular he can't let go of. Can't forget because he'll always remember: the drips of a lonely sewer, the stench of blood and sulfur in the air, the sound of screams and gunshots.]
[Greed's nails scratch and this time, he catches himself before he can do any damage; the threads of the sheets merely plucked a bit more loose than before.] Not a stupid question, Seras. You'll hear a lot of people, especially those from that other Hell, talk about the Seven Deadly Sins. But they aren't mine. [The slits of his eyes constrict themselves, turning to needles in his skull.] Except for maybe one. I haven't checked if he stuck around though.
[A weight drops from his shoulders and oh, the crown's a heavy one, isn't it? The former homunculus hums and as he grabs one her hands, he plants his mouth on her fingers.] Don't have any other name, lovely. I am Greed. And that's all I'll ever be.
[Seras knows Greed is hot-blooded— sometimes drinking from him can be like downing a fresh pot of coffee —but the burst of heat that comes from him when the word Wrath leaves his lips is like a solar flare in her chest, burning her up from the inside, out. The vampire chooses not to speak on it initially, unsure how to even put that feeling into words... It isn't that the girl hasn't known empathy— she can be quite the crybaby when it comes to certain people, and fight like hell to defend others —but she can't say she remembers it being so strong, before. Not like this.
Still, she chooses not to ask why he feels so strongly about the one named Wrath. Now is probably not the time for that.]
Mm, the hell that Angel's from, yeah. Think I heard'im say somethin' about that...
[Seras can't help but notice the difference between now and a mere ten minutes ago; all that fun and ferocious manhandling traded out for soft, sweet affection. If anyone were to ask why she keeps inviting him to her bed, she would tell them to shut the hell up and mind their business, but the answer would be that she keeps him coming back for this part, especially. She isn't naive enough to think she's the only one that gets this treatment from him— he's Greed and with great avarice comes great appetite, and unfortunately she is but one single meal —but it's nice to pretend, even for a little while, that she could be somebody's favorite.
Humming her approval as he presses his lips to her hand, her eyes fall on the red dragon that adorns his. Her curious gaze lingers there for a moment before she flips the configuration of their hands, lifting them both slightly to get a better look.]
This symbol. ...They have them, too. Don't they.
[Upon an ample breast, someone's leg, a shoulder, in a mouth-
An eye.
Beneath him, her breathing becomes shallow, her chest beginning to rise and fall a bit faster than before.
How many times am I going to have to kill you before you stay dead?
A trembling breath escapes her lips and she fights to suck it back in before Greed notices, returning to its confinement just as shakily as it left. Still, her hands betray her by picking up where her lungs left off.]
I've seen them.
[She murmurs more quietly than before, fingers tightening around his hand to force a stillness and will herself to reel whatever this horrible feeling is back in. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she breathes a soft, though decidedly humorless laugh.]
I- I mean, I think I've seen them. I've seen... this. [Giving his hand a little wiggle.] On someone else. I-in my dreams.
[She says it, and it's like a shock going through his system. It stuns him, if only for a second or two. His breath hitches, cutting off just behind his teeth like a spark trying to ignite and finding nothing, nothing, at all. The ouroboros is the one, true thing that marks them; a scarlet-letter brand she couldn't know, unless - ]
[The slits of his eyes expand wildly, catching sight of something that isn't there, before shrinking again. Greed closes them and slowly releases her hand.] So, you know about them. [Not that he hid them from her or anyone else. But she seems to have seen something, a glimpse of sorts.]
[The former homunculus shifts, trying to sit up despite how much he doesn't want to. This is important, though. If she's got some sort of connection (and how the fuck did that happen), she deserves a little more context, doesn't she?] You're right, we all have one. It's in a different spot for each of us. [Greed bends forward at the torso, forcing his necklace to lift up and off his chest in a slow, pulse-beating rhythm.] Don't know how you're seeing that, but -
[He forces his eyes half open to stare at the wall. It won't give him an answer, and neither will all the snippets from before: Lust (with her smile that killed a thousand men), Pride (with eyes everywhere searching him out), Gluttony (with his dumb demeanor and childish outlook), Sloth (always tired and so ready to be done with the burden called living). Then, Envy and Wrath. He doesn't care to give either of those the time of mind. Shit's still worth shit at the end of the day.]
[The Sin hears the stone hanging on his horns choke itself on its chain and he lifts his shoulder.] Sorry you caught a look at them. Not exactly the nicest group to remember. [He says with a smile that's forced. So forced and practiced. The Ultimate Shield is, after all, the ultimate mask. And even if he doesn't have it up, even if his usual face is showing, that doesn't mean he can't fall into its convenient habits.]
[A soft sound, barely that of a whimper escapes her as he sits up and away from her— his memories hurt to feel, to see, but it must hurt most of all to experience. Even seeing it all through his eyes is nothing compared to the rage and betrayal he must have felt in that moment; watching his "family" watch him be destroyed...]
I... don't know, either. But ever since that night— [He knows the one.] —I've been having these... weird dreams. They're not like mine at all. [Her dreams are usually off-the-wall nonsense like manifesting the physical embodiment of her gun as Baron Vladimir Harkonnen from the Dune series telling her that she'll never, ever be happy—]
I kept seeing these... people. They don't... necessarily look like you, but. They have the tattoos. Like you said, in a different spot than yours. A woman with one on her chest, another with one on his tongue. An old man with one where his eye should be...
[She shivers, bringing her now unoccupied hands up to her shoulders to squeeze herself tightly in a self-administered hug. There's darkness, the sound of water splashing, panting, the ache of loss, fear.]
He's the worst of all. It always hurts when I see that one. [Her hands migrate to her collarbones, the places where Greed's arrays would be. She can't see his face from here, but she can tell by the tone of his voice that he's trying to play it off like it's nothing.
She knows that game so well. ]
Don't apologize. It's not like you meant to...
[The young vampire sits up then, scooting forward and moving to slip her arms around him from behind to nuzzle her cheek in the space between his shoulder blades. It may be that she's a vampire or that she's cold-natured, but she can't help but find comfort in the heat that radiates from him, and it's since become one of her favorite parts of her nights with the sin.
And in this moment, above all, all she can hope is to offer even the slightest comfort to him in return.]
I... don't— I can't —understand everything that I've seen, but. I'm... I'm so sorry.
[She grips her own wrist at his hip to stave off the shake, attempting (and failing) at sucking in a steady breath. But her chest hurts, her throat is tight and the telltale burning behind her eyes is threatening to burst open the floodgates.]
[Remembering. Memories. They're something of a sore spot, aren't they? Not just what happened in the previous incarnation of the 'Nest, but the fact that his everything (his life, his accomplishments, his things) had once been stolen from him too. Stolen and swindled away as the rest of the would-be family watched him burn like a witch for his crimes.]
[Greed's eyes narrow and something in his mouth audible cracks, followed swiftly by the undeniable sound of his stone licking away a wound.] The woman you're seeing is called Lust. [He finds himself again. At least she's not entirely a bad one to think of.] The Ultimate Spear to my Ultimate Shield. [He doesn't remember if he's ever actually told anyone that before. Yes, he's shown it off. And yes, he's proved what it can do. But has he ever said it before? His Father-given gift of all things, and ultimate only when he chose to use it for the right reasons.]
[The Sin's eyes chase over the wall furthest away and as they do, they start flipping. Purple mostly, but that hum of red lingers. Lingers like blood in the air and calls him for filth.] Gluttony's the one with the tongue. He couldn't do anything without Lust and Envy. I almost feel bad for him. He never really knew what we were doing -
[Old man, she says. Old man, and Greed's whole body goes as hard as steel. His upper lip peels away from his teeth and maybe he's never noticed before (or maybe nothing has ever gotten him before), but his teeth are stretching out. Even without the 'Shield, they're stretching out, extending, like a different kind of monster entirely. And all the while, his core drums on; drums and pounds and beats at his chest silently, but no less demanding:]
["Are you an idiot? Who the fuck do you think I am? I'm Greed. Money, women, subordinates. They're all my possessions! And no one takes what's mine!"]
[He inhales sharply through his nose and his teeth shrink back down.] Wrath. King Bradley. He - ["Took everything from me." That's what he wants to say. But that opens up a can of worm he's not entirely ready for. The 'Nest's final days, playing out in blood and bullets. Greed, very slowly, shrugs his shoulders.] Let's just say that he owes me. But the bastard up and died before I had the chance to collect.
[Again, the funny thing about memories: he can picture that moment. That moment where the world's end balanced on the head of a pin, and all he could focus on was Wrath. Wrath's aged, grayed body, splayed out on the floor with his arms missing and that self-satisfied smile planted on his face. The man didn't deserve to smile at the end of it. He didn't deserve that payment. He was in debt, and men in debt should have to suffer out until they've paid back their pounds in flesh.]
[Seras is on him before he knows it and that's when the shock really hits him. Not when she spilled the things she's seen, no. It's this. Greed doesn't breathe and maybe, he can't. Because he can feel the lightest tickle of panic like a scratch in his skull. She should know better. If she's seen it, she should know better.]
[The Sin smothers her hand with his.] Don't apologize to me. It's over, it's done. And who said I didn't deserve it, hmn? You don't know what I've done, Seras. [He says it like he's trying to chase away all of this. Chase it away and bury it again.]
Besides, that was a long time ago. Doesn't matter now.
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[She chuckles warmly (and reigning it in quickly, watching his head boounce around on her chest when she laughs just starts an endless cycle of giggles) gently stroking her claws across his scalp, around the base of his horns— she's learned that it feels really good to give herself a scritch around the horn, so why not share the pleasure, right? That's what they've gotten used to doing anyway.]
Mm... Though. I... Do have an... actual question. [And he doesn't hold anything back, she knows. He's done nothing but be honest with her.]
We know of the Seven Deadly Sins in my world, with Greed or... I think it's "Avarice," maybe? Bein' one of one of them. Then there's Lust and Sloth... Pride... Envy... [She's counting off on her unoccupied hand.] Oh! And Wrath, lord, I'd get in trouble for Wrath... I'm... Missing one, but anyway—
That means there's probably more of you, right? More living sins?
[The image in her mind's eye flashes to a small group of black-clad people with one swathed in white, watching her from far below. Her chest aches for a moment, but she shakes herself from the feeling.]
Or... did you name yourself after them? I know it's probably a silly question.
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[Promises, though. They're sometimes made to be broken. Not often, not even more than once. But that one time had been enough. Enough, enough, enough.]
[The Sin's eyes drearily open to watch the last hints of smoke fade in the hollow of her room. She asks something and she doesn't know. How could she? It's easy to assume there's more of them. After all, seven makes a set. However, that set has never really suited him. The way he was made, the reason he was created in the first place. Greed drops his hand to rest it on her knee. He lets his claws trace the warmth of the sheets, to feel the richness of them that has nothing to do with the fabric count and everything to do with her right here, right now.]
Avarice. Greed the Avaricious. [He speaks his own name, his fully given title, like a secret in the dark.] And yeah, you've got most of them. Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Envy - [His voice hitches in his throat, chokes itself there, then squeezes through his teeth like a gunk-covered vent.] - Wrath. [The muscles in him tense before he can stop himself. Because unlike most things, it's that sin in particular he can't let go of. Can't forget because he'll always remember: the drips of a lonely sewer, the stench of blood and sulfur in the air, the sound of screams and gunshots.]
[Greed's nails scratch and this time, he catches himself before he can do any damage; the threads of the sheets merely plucked a bit more loose than before.] Not a stupid question, Seras. You'll hear a lot of people, especially those from that other Hell, talk about the Seven Deadly Sins. But they aren't mine. [The slits of his eyes constrict themselves, turning to needles in his skull.] Except for maybe one. I haven't checked if he stuck around though.
[A weight drops from his shoulders and oh, the crown's a heavy one, isn't it? The former homunculus hums and as he grabs one her hands, he plants his mouth on her fingers.] Don't have any other name, lovely. I am Greed. And that's all I'll ever be.
no subject
Still, she chooses not to ask why he feels so strongly about the one named Wrath. Now is probably not the time for that.]
Mm, the hell that Angel's from, yeah. Think I heard'im say somethin' about that...
[Seras can't help but notice the difference between now and a mere ten minutes ago; all that fun and ferocious manhandling traded out for soft, sweet affection. If anyone were to ask why she keeps inviting him to her bed, she would tell them to shut the hell up and mind their business, but the answer would be that she keeps him coming back for this part, especially. She isn't naive enough to think she's the only one that gets this treatment from him— he's Greed and with great avarice comes great appetite, and unfortunately she is but one single meal —but it's nice to pretend, even for a little while, that she could be somebody's favorite.
Humming her approval as he presses his lips to her hand, her eyes fall on the red dragon that adorns his. Her curious gaze lingers there for a moment before she flips the configuration of their hands, lifting them both slightly to get a better look.]
This symbol. ...They have them, too. Don't they.
[Upon an ample breast, someone's leg, a shoulder, in a mouth-
An eye.
Beneath him, her breathing becomes shallow, her chest beginning to rise and fall a bit faster than before.
How many times am I going to have to kill you before you stay dead?
A trembling breath escapes her lips and she fights to suck it back in before Greed notices, returning to its confinement just as shakily as it left. Still, her hands betray her by picking up where her lungs left off.]
I've seen them.
[She murmurs more quietly than before, fingers tightening around his hand to force a stillness and will herself to reel whatever this horrible feeling is back in. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she breathes a soft, though decidedly humorless laugh.]
I- I mean, I think I've seen them. I've seen... this. [Giving his hand a little wiggle.] On someone else. I-in my dreams.
no subject
[The slits of his eyes expand wildly, catching sight of something that isn't there, before shrinking again. Greed closes them and slowly releases her hand.] So, you know about them. [Not that he hid them from her or anyone else. But she seems to have seen something, a glimpse of sorts.]
[The former homunculus shifts, trying to sit up despite how much he doesn't want to. This is important, though. If she's got some sort of connection (and how the fuck did that happen), she deserves a little more context, doesn't she?] You're right, we all have one. It's in a different spot for each of us. [Greed bends forward at the torso, forcing his necklace to lift up and off his chest in a slow, pulse-beating rhythm.] Don't know how you're seeing that, but -
[He forces his eyes half open to stare at the wall. It won't give him an answer, and neither will all the snippets from before: Lust (with her smile that killed a thousand men), Pride (with eyes everywhere searching him out), Gluttony (with his dumb demeanor and childish outlook), Sloth (always tired and so ready to be done with the burden called living). Then, Envy and Wrath. He doesn't care to give either of those the time of mind. Shit's still worth shit at the end of the day.]
[The Sin hears the stone hanging on his horns choke itself on its chain and he lifts his shoulder.] Sorry you caught a look at them. Not exactly the nicest group to remember. [He says with a smile that's forced. So forced and practiced. The Ultimate Shield is, after all, the ultimate mask. And even if he doesn't have it up, even if his usual face is showing, that doesn't mean he can't fall into its convenient habits.]
no subject
I... don't know, either. But ever since that night— [He knows the one.] —I've been having these... weird dreams. They're not like mine at all. [Her dreams are usually off-the-wall nonsense like manifesting the physical embodiment of her gun as Baron Vladimir Harkonnen from the Dune series telling her that she'll never, ever be happy—]
I kept seeing these... people. They don't... necessarily look like you, but. They have the tattoos. Like you said, in a different spot than yours. A woman with one on her chest, another with one on his tongue. An old man with one where his eye should be...
[She shivers, bringing her now unoccupied hands up to her shoulders to squeeze herself tightly in a self-administered hug. There's darkness, the sound of water splashing, panting, the ache of loss, fear.]
He's the worst of all. It always hurts when I see that one. [Her hands migrate to her collarbones, the places where Greed's arrays would be. She can't see his face from here, but she can tell by the tone of his voice that he's trying to play it off like it's nothing.
She knows that game so well. ]
Don't apologize. It's not like you meant to...
[The young vampire sits up then, scooting forward and moving to slip her arms around him from behind to nuzzle her cheek in the space between his shoulder blades. It may be that she's a vampire or that she's cold-natured, but she can't help but find comfort in the heat that radiates from him, and it's since become one of her favorite parts of her nights with the sin.
And in this moment, above all, all she can hope is to offer even the slightest comfort to him in return.]
I... don't— I can't —understand everything that I've seen, but. I'm... I'm so sorry.
[She grips her own wrist at his hip to stave off the shake, attempting (and failing) at sucking in a steady breath. But her chest hurts, her throat is tight and the telltale burning behind her eyes is threatening to burst open the floodgates.]
You didn't deserve that.
no subject
[Greed's eyes narrow and something in his mouth audible cracks, followed swiftly by the undeniable sound of his stone licking away a wound.] The woman you're seeing is called Lust. [He finds himself again. At least she's not entirely a bad one to think of.] The Ultimate Spear to my Ultimate Shield. [He doesn't remember if he's ever actually told anyone that before. Yes, he's shown it off. And yes, he's proved what it can do. But has he ever said it before? His Father-given gift of all things, and ultimate only when he chose to use it for the right reasons.]
[The Sin's eyes chase over the wall furthest away and as they do, they start flipping. Purple mostly, but that hum of red lingers. Lingers like blood in the air and calls him for filth.] Gluttony's the one with the tongue. He couldn't do anything without Lust and Envy. I almost feel bad for him. He never really knew what we were doing -
[Old man, she says. Old man, and Greed's whole body goes as hard as steel. His upper lip peels away from his teeth and maybe he's never noticed before (or maybe nothing has ever gotten him before), but his teeth are stretching out. Even without the 'Shield, they're stretching out, extending, like a different kind of monster entirely. And all the while, his core drums on; drums and pounds and beats at his chest silently, but no less demanding:]
["Are you an idiot? Who the fuck do you think I am? I'm Greed. Money, women, subordinates. They're all my possessions! And no one takes what's mine!"]
[He inhales sharply through his nose and his teeth shrink back down.] Wrath. King Bradley. He - ["Took everything from me." That's what he wants to say. But that opens up a can of worm he's not entirely ready for. The 'Nest's final days, playing out in blood and bullets. Greed, very slowly, shrugs his shoulders.] Let's just say that he owes me. But the bastard up and died before I had the chance to collect.
[Again, the funny thing about memories: he can picture that moment. That moment where the world's end balanced on the head of a pin, and all he could focus on was Wrath. Wrath's aged, grayed body, splayed out on the floor with his arms missing and that self-satisfied smile planted on his face. The man didn't deserve to smile at the end of it. He didn't deserve that payment. He was in debt, and men in debt should have to suffer out until they've paid back their pounds in flesh.]
[Seras is on him before he knows it and that's when the shock really hits him. Not when she spilled the things she's seen, no. It's this. Greed doesn't breathe and maybe, he can't. Because he can feel the lightest tickle of panic like a scratch in his skull. She should know better. If she's seen it, she should know better.]
[The Sin smothers her hand with his.] Don't apologize to me. It's over, it's done. And who said I didn't deserve it, hmn? You don't know what I've done, Seras. [He says it like he's trying to chase away all of this. Chase it away and bury it again.]
Besides, that was a long time ago. Doesn't matter now.