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[And when someone goes searching for the devil? Oh, will he always oblige.]
[It's that of hum of his that comes first. The slickness of it, how it sweeps at the back of his throat and holds itself in place like a billow of stuck-in smoke. It announces him. Announces him in a way that horns, trumpets, and all else just wouldn't suffice.]
Oh? Was wondering when you'd show up. Good to see you, Maurice.
[Greed slithers out from behind the other man, hands in his pockets. Given the drastic, physical changes he's gone through this month, his signature-styled vest is gone. Instead, a shirt (skin tight and black to a pitch) strangles his torso. It's smooth in a way. Strange, even. Because no matter how he moves, not an inch of it gives way. Almost as if it were a part of him somehow.]
[The former homunculus mindlessly touches the tips of his teeth together and as he makes his way behind the bar, he lifts his shoulders. The tufts of fur at the back of his neck stand up, then; their edges cut off by that odd shirt of his.] You sure picked one hell of a time to come down here.
[When he catches the collar on the other man's throat, a cool look passes over his face. Like Maurice, he hasn't been fortunate enough to avoid the whole situation either. The clasp wrapped around his neck is black and menacing. A warning, perhaps, that staying away is the best option. Greed taps the steely ring at the front of it with one of his claws. Tck, tck, tck.] You too, huh? Tch. The ones running this place really are testing their fucking luck, aren't they.
Ehh - [The mild irritation in his voice quickly snuffs itself out, and the Sin starts making his way through the bar, grabbing a shaker, a stirrer, and a bucket of ice.] - doesn't matter. What can I get you, friend?
[ Maurice lets out a little noise of surprise when Greed appears from behind him. He hunches his shoulders and pins his ears back. However, when he sees who it is, he relaxes a little, not wanting to seem like some kind of paranoid weirdo in the presence of someone important.]
Oh, hey, Mr. Greed.
[ Even with the new spots, he can tell who it is. Maurice fidgets with his claws as Greed makes his way behind the bar. ]
Uhm...I hadn't thought that far, t'be honest. What's good?
[The Sin waves away the idea with one of his hands while he grabs a towel with another to run it through his fingers.]
It's just Greed, hmn? [Popping open the shaker, the former homunculus takes a moment to hook one of his nails around the rim of his sunglasses. With a simple pull, he lowers them a tad, shooting Maurice a heavy, simmering look.]
Ah well, that depends. Why don't you tell me what you want, and I'll see what I can do. Doesn't have to be too complicated. [Greed shoves his shades back up again. He's already moving through his collection of liquor, plucking bottle after bottle up for a quick inspection.] But if you can't make up your mind -
[He pauses on a single handle of booze and the hum in his throat sends the fur along his neck all a'shivering.] - the Black Widow might be good for someone like you.
[ Maurice echoes, unoffended. Lately, he isn't entirely sure who he is. And this god of indulgence clearly did know, and so he put his sobriety in Greed's talons. Maurice squirms a little under that roaring hearth of a gaze. He pretends to look at the decor.]
Then...I want the Black Widow.
[ It sounds pretty stout and that's fine with him. He didn't come in here to pray. ]
[Greed's eyebrows hitch up a tick. If he's about to say anything about well, anything, he doesn't. Instead, he looks on, smarmy all the same, as he begins to put together the drink.]
It's not a bad one, if that's what you're worried about. Little less harsh than some of the other stuff I stock. [He flicks cube after cube into the shaker. Dnk, dnk, dnk. He's already noticed the collar, so with a single finger, he touches his own, yanking the metal loop at the front taut with his nail.]
You too, huh? Gotta admit, this place does keep things interesting. [When he drops the metal, it claps back against all the spikes like a church bell reversed.] There's a rumor going around that it makes you follow orders. Heard anything about that yet?
[Because oh, oh, oh, if that's what it really takes? He'll gladly bite the person that feeds him.]
[ Maurice watches Greed work his magic. The bars he went to when he was alive just handed you a beer and that was about it. This is art. It's nice. When Greed calls attention to the collar, Maurice tugs at his own. ]
Oh, no, I hadn't heard about that. T'be honest, you're the only person I've talked to today.
[Once the shaker's closed up again, the Sin gives it a toss over his shoulder before catching it with his claws. Scrrtch.] Ehh, don't worry about it. It's just a rumor, after all. Who knows? Maybe someone was just talking bullshit.
[With that, he begins to mix the whole thing up and as the ice cracks and splinters behind steel, he hooks the glass with his finger, spinning it across the bar top as smooth as a skater.] I'm just glad you were able to come down here at all.
[He rips the topper off again, slides a strainer over the lip, and begins to pour.] Honestly, I'm surprised this is your first time. Figured I would've seen you here before. You're a pretty interesting guy, Maurice. You should get out more often. [The drink done, the former homunculus finishes it off with a garnish of basil and a single blackberry skewed with a small, plastic sword.]
What finally changed your mind? [He asks as he pushes the cocktail over.]
Well...I've walked by a few times. Told some people about it...you know, since you told me.
[ His ears twitch as he looks for the best words to say. He doesn't want to be annoying. He doesn't want to tell Greed some sob story about his self esteem. So, as he accepts the cocktail and takes a moment to appreciate its color, he says: ]
Just busy I guess. I've got a couple jobs.
[ He takes a drink. His furry ears perk up and his long tail starts lashing back and forth on the floor behind him. ]
This is really good!
[ Maurice, by and large, does not drink cocktails. He might have a vodka coke, but usually he just drinks the cheapest piss beer he can find and drinks it until he can't stand. Shit he could just come here any time and have a drink that tastes good??? Shit! ]
[A flutter fishtails behind his sunglasses, red, slippery, and as smooth as an eel in muck. Greed squints his mouth and the whiskers on his cheeks blossom out.] Is that so. Ha - ! Well, I appreciate the free advertising, friend. But now it sounds like I owe you, don't I?
[The rumble in his chest is so deep, so low, it's almost hard to make out. Like a bass tone pitched to just the right frequency, it shows itself in the rattle of his necklaces as they quiver and shake about his neck. The Sin reaches for a half-empty glass to run his finger along the rim.] Speaking of which - why don't we give it a try, hmn? This collar thing. That is, if you're up to it. Something simple.
[The tail at his back loops upward, and the rings around it collapse together. Tck, tck, tck.] See, I'm a big fan of choice, Maurice. Even when it comes to those who work for me, I won't force them to do something they're not interested in. [He continues feeling out the rim of the glass, putting it to his finger's memory.] Sure, they have jobs to do - it's what I pay 'em for. But if I made them do something they didn't want, that'd make me a bit of a hypocrite now, wouldn't it? So, we'll start with something small.
[The former homunculus leans in then, pressing his weight atop the glass and holding it on the point of his nail so sure, so tense, that it whines back with a protest, pathetic and shrill.] Why don't you tell me something you want. Something you really want. And in exchange? [He playfully tilts his head.]
I'll let you ask me to do one thing. [He raises his finger off the glass.] And we'll see if this rumor of ours is any true. A pretty fair deal, don't ya think?
[ Maurice is taking gulps of his cocktail rather than sips. It's going fast as he listens to Greed purr and make his offer. He licks his lips and looks up at the big cat man.]
[ There's something about staring at his reflection in Greed's glasses. Greed is both a presence that fills a room and a mirror leaving Maurice with only himself. What did he want? The yawning speckled void waits for his answer, luxuriating in its vastness. What did he want? ]
[ People don't usually ask Maurice what he wants. The collar's influence bid him speak.]
I want respect.
[ Maurice snaps his teeth closed and instantly he looks stricken, like he's scandalized that he could dare to ask for something so large. Like, who the fuck is HE? ]
[Maurice drinks, and he waits. For an answer, for a suggestion, for a reaction of any sort. And all the while, he's eerily still; like a viper tasting the air, searching for a flicker of something (anything) to pass on by. Because it is true, isn't it? The age-old phrase about devils and how it's always better to go with the one that's familiar.]
[Greed's eyebrows drift up his forehead, silent yet focused all the same. He plucks his claw off the glass, making it shiver out one, last, finalizing note. Shrrr.] Ha - ! Now see, that wasn't so hard, was it? [The Sin's mouth knowingly shrinks and as he plucks up the glass, he shuffles it underneath the lip of the bar. A task to take handle later, no doubt.] But that's interesting. What makes you think you aren't respected, Maurice? From everything you've told me, you sound like a pretty interesting guy. You haven't been running into any trouble here, have you? Because if you are - [He swipes his tongue behind the cuts of his teeth.] - well, you can just tell them they can come talk to me, hmn?
[Tilting his head, he gives off a glimpse of his throat and all the jewels and gems strung about it catch like pennies in the limelight.] Ah, but before we get to that, suppose I owe you one in return, don't I? [He taps the top of the bar with his nail, leaving behind a fine prick in the wood.]
So, go ahead. You get one ask. Then, we can get to this respect of yours.
Well...the folks back home talk to me like I'm dumb. Probably 'cause I'm fat and don't have a good job and didn't finish college. It's like they either think I'm stupid or feel sorry for me and I can't...I can't stand it! Horas was supposed to teach me how t'be a vampire (I was a vampire) but he kept just...I dunno, fucking around. And then when we almost get caught by hunters they blame ME! And here, the angels all give me these looks...I ain't done nothin' to them! All I do is--don't tell nobody this--go to the library and read freakin' plays! If they want me to be a problem just so they can feel right, I'll BE a problem!
[ The more he speaks, the more he begins to get just a little heated. Maurice doesn't get heated over much. ]
And my boss is always tryin' to scare me and, I mean, it works, but I wish he wouldn't do that. I got enough to deal with outside of work!
[ His tail is lashing so hard behind him that he is tipping over chairs. ]
Okay--I want another drink. Make it stronger. Uh, please.
[A slight flick of movement hints behind his sunglasses as he listens to Maurice tell his story. And while it isn't exactly a familiar one, it is similar. Not to his, but to others he's known before. The world (any world, really) is kind to no one, and given his line of business, he's heard it all. From the once-star lounge singers to washed-up military men who had nothing left to give, the theme is always the same: life isn't always fair, and for those that don't (can't) live a normal one? Cruelty is a commodity in spades.]
[Greed pinches Maurice's drink by the brim, dragging it away.] There's always going to be those. The self-righteous types. [He starts in, his voice as smooth as a velvet chaser.] And when something doesn't go their way? They look for someone else to blame. That's the thing with people like that. They tend to forget what others are worth.
[At the last bit, his teeth snap together; a light tck. The Sin shoves the glass underneath the counter and as he stretches his back, the fur along his neck slowly rises; its movement more similar to the pull of lifting static. He lets the side of his head sag near his shoulder.] Sounds like it's more their problem than yours, hmn? [The question tickles on his tongue, making the split of it flutter behind his teeth.] Our friends up above have the whole thing wrong. What's good, what's bad. It's never mattered to me.
As for that other thing - [Setting down a fresh glass with one hand, the former homunculus snags an orange with the other. He eases the edge of his thumb against the skin and with a sharp jerk of the wrist, he begins to peel it.] - everyone's got their secrets. We'll just leave it at that.
[Ah, but there's that heat. That simmering, bubbling heat and he knows it, doesn't he? That fine line between frustration and anger that can so easily boil over to wrath. Greed sinks his claw into the orange and as its skin bursts, he levels it over the shaker.] Careful there. As much as I don't blame you, think about it, huh? Would do you no good to make things messier than they have to be. But -
[He swipes his claw and the orange peel rolls off in a single curl.] - might be time to remind some of 'em that this isn't their afterlife, and their rules don't exactly apply. [The Sin pours in some liquor, capping the mix with a delicate tnk of steel on steel. He gives it a slight swirl and the ice inside rolls like rocks in a tumbler.] Ah, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself, aren't I? You still haven't gotten your ask.
[The drink he pours out this time is a heavier one. A simple mix of half vodka, half orange juice with a lick of bitters for good measure. Greed holds the peel over a candle nearby, turning the edges of it to a slight char. He shoves a toothpick through it before setting it on the rim of the glass. Then, with a push, he sends it over to Maurice.]
[ Living by your own rules sounds so cool...but also kind of lonely. He wonders if this cool cat ever feels lonely. He makes it look so easy. ]
I thought the extra drink was my ask...
[ He grabs his drink and takes a moment to appreciate the unique smell before taking a sip. Oh! That's different! He likes it a little more than the Widow actually. ]
Uhmmm...let's see.
[ His usual electric nerves that run through him when In A Social Situation have started to quiet their incessant buzzing. His shoulders un-hunch and he rolls his head from one side to the other as if making sure to coat all surfaces of his brain with the alcohol.]
[It's rare to see someone at his bar so completely opposite his usual. Not that Maurice is entirely out of sorts here. But the clientele he's come to expect have always been a bit more rough around the edges, and an ask (any at all) tends to come with a little more fine print.]
[Which is why, maybe, Greed's smile softens a bit. He lifts his shoulders with a lazy shrug before stretching himself over the bar just enough to make his hips knock along the other side of the counter. The collar may be commanding him to do it, but even so. This? This is simple enough.]
[Maurice really is another one of the good ones, isn't he?]
[The Sin coaxes his head to the side, offering up his ear.] Knock yourself out. [He purrs and his tail sways behind him.] Y'know, you're not a bad guy, 'Rice. If you ever find those other jobs of yours aren't working out, why don't you give me a call? This place gets busy enough, and I'm sure we could find something worth your time.
[On cue, he pulls out a napkin and a pen to blindly scribble down a few numbers before pushing it over to Maurice; his head, all the while, held out and waiting for a well-deserved scritch.]
[ Maurice reaches out and plops a hand between Greed's ears and gives him a good pet. His fur is so soft! Maurice strokes the giant cat man's head and ears and the side of his nec (if he can reach it) for a long moment. It's so nice to pet a kitty. Until he died, he's been allergic. And animals in general didn't like him much when he was a vampire.]
[ Greed's proposal makes sure Maurice doesn't get totally lost in the sauce. He withdraws his hand, satisfied, and takes up his glass again. His brows drift up as he processes what Greed has said. ]
Like a job...? I mean...the radio station doesn't take up a whole lot of my time. I never thought of working in a bar b'fore...could be interesting. What d'you need help with?
[All the while, the Sin tilts into the touch. It isn't something intimate (least not the kind he's familiar with), but the jaguar part of him: it likes it. The feeling of Maurice's nails on his scalp, the sensation of his fingers burying themselves deep in his fur. Greed lets a deep, barrel-bottom chuff flare in his nose; the pitch of it echoing like a bass, thrumming in his chest.]
[When Maurice pulls away, the former homunculus rolls his head, causing one or two of his bones to crack.] Hmn? [He shakes himself out of his momentary stupor as he slowly straightens his back.]
Yeah, like a job. [He turns up the corner of his lip.] And it wouldn't be much. Mostly making sure we have enough stock when we open. That, and taking care of the occasional drop off. [Greed rubs the back of his neck. It may not have been his intent, but the way Maurice had stroked him: it leaves the bristles of his coat standing on end. The look of them more similar to the aftermath of a well-placed, statically charged balloon.]
[He flattens the fur under his palm, gliding it down smooth and slick.] Think about it. [The Sin taps the napkin twice with the tip of his nail. Tck, tck.] Doesn't have to be now. But consider it, would ya?
Got some things to do, but in the meantime, feel free to stick around. [The former homunculus gradually pulls away from the counter. Being as tall as he is now, he shuffles a bit on the balls of his feet, narrowly avoiding the prep station behind him the process. Eventually though (and with a little more effort than usual), he makes his way down the line of the bar. And with one hand raised high, the Sin flicks his wrist; his sendoff, quick and casual.]
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[It's that of hum of his that comes first. The slickness of it, how it sweeps at the back of his throat and holds itself in place like a billow of stuck-in smoke. It announces him. Announces him in a way that horns, trumpets, and all else just wouldn't suffice.]
Oh? Was wondering when you'd show up. Good to see you, Maurice.
[Greed slithers out from behind the other man, hands in his pockets. Given the drastic, physical changes he's gone through this month, his signature-styled vest is gone. Instead, a shirt (skin tight and black to a pitch) strangles his torso. It's smooth in a way. Strange, even. Because no matter how he moves, not an inch of it gives way. Almost as if it were a part of him somehow.]
[The former homunculus mindlessly touches the tips of his teeth together and as he makes his way behind the bar, he lifts his shoulders. The tufts of fur at the back of his neck stand up, then; their edges cut off by that odd shirt of his.] You sure picked one hell of a time to come down here.
[When he catches the collar on the other man's throat, a cool look passes over his face. Like Maurice, he hasn't been fortunate enough to avoid the whole situation either. The clasp wrapped around his neck is black and menacing. A warning, perhaps, that staying away is the best option. Greed taps the steely ring at the front of it with one of his claws. Tck, tck, tck.] You too, huh? Tch. The ones running this place really are testing their fucking luck, aren't they.
Ehh - [The mild irritation in his voice quickly snuffs itself out, and the Sin starts making his way through the bar, grabbing a shaker, a stirrer, and a bucket of ice.] - doesn't matter. What can I get you, friend?
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Oh, hey, Mr. Greed.
[ Even with the new spots, he can tell who it is. Maurice fidgets with his claws as Greed makes his way behind the bar. ]
Uhm...I hadn't thought that far, t'be honest. What's good?
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It's just Greed, hmn? [Popping open the shaker, the former homunculus takes a moment to hook one of his nails around the rim of his sunglasses. With a simple pull, he lowers them a tad, shooting Maurice a heavy, simmering look.]
Ah well, that depends. Why don't you tell me what you want, and I'll see what I can do. Doesn't have to be too complicated. [Greed shoves his shades back up again. He's already moving through his collection of liquor, plucking bottle after bottle up for a quick inspection.] But if you can't make up your mind -
[He pauses on a single handle of booze and the hum in his throat sends the fur along his neck all a'shivering.] - the Black Widow might be good for someone like you.
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[ Maurice echoes, unoffended. Lately, he isn't entirely sure who he is. And this god of indulgence clearly did know, and so he put his sobriety in Greed's talons. Maurice squirms a little under that roaring hearth of a gaze. He pretends to look at the decor.]
Then...I want the Black Widow.
[ It sounds pretty stout and that's fine with him. He didn't come in here to pray. ]
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It's not a bad one, if that's what you're worried about. Little less harsh than some of the other stuff I stock. [He flicks cube after cube into the shaker. Dnk, dnk, dnk. He's already noticed the collar, so with a single finger, he touches his own, yanking the metal loop at the front taut with his nail.]
You too, huh? Gotta admit, this place does keep things interesting. [When he drops the metal, it claps back against all the spikes like a church bell reversed.] There's a rumor going around that it makes you follow orders. Heard anything about that yet?
[Because oh, oh, oh, if that's what it really takes? He'll gladly bite the person that feeds him.]
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Oh, no, I hadn't heard about that. T'be honest, you're the only person I've talked to today.
[ Maurice can be a late sleeper at times. ]
I'm glad I came here first.
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[With that, he begins to mix the whole thing up and as the ice cracks and splinters behind steel, he hooks the glass with his finger, spinning it across the bar top as smooth as a skater.] I'm just glad you were able to come down here at all.
[He rips the topper off again, slides a strainer over the lip, and begins to pour.] Honestly, I'm surprised this is your first time. Figured I would've seen you here before. You're a pretty interesting guy, Maurice. You should get out more often. [The drink done, the former homunculus finishes it off with a garnish of basil and a single blackberry skewed with a small, plastic sword.]
What finally changed your mind? [He asks as he pushes the cocktail over.]
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Well...I've walked by a few times. Told some people about it...you know, since you told me.
[ His ears twitch as he looks for the best words to say. He doesn't want to be annoying. He doesn't want to tell Greed some sob story about his self esteem. So, as he accepts the cocktail and takes a moment to appreciate its color, he says: ]
Just busy I guess. I've got a couple jobs.
[ He takes a drink. His furry ears perk up and his long tail starts lashing back and forth on the floor behind him. ]
This is really good!
[ Maurice, by and large, does not drink cocktails. He might have a vodka coke, but usually he just drinks the cheapest piss beer he can find and drinks it until he can't stand. Shit he could just come here any time and have a drink that tastes good??? Shit! ]
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[The rumble in his chest is so deep, so low, it's almost hard to make out. Like a bass tone pitched to just the right frequency, it shows itself in the rattle of his necklaces as they quiver and shake about his neck. The Sin reaches for a half-empty glass to run his finger along the rim.] Speaking of which - why don't we give it a try, hmn? This collar thing. That is, if you're up to it. Something simple.
[The tail at his back loops upward, and the rings around it collapse together. Tck, tck, tck.] See, I'm a big fan of choice, Maurice. Even when it comes to those who work for me, I won't force them to do something they're not interested in. [He continues feeling out the rim of the glass, putting it to his finger's memory.] Sure, they have jobs to do - it's what I pay 'em for. But if I made them do something they didn't want, that'd make me a bit of a hypocrite now, wouldn't it? So, we'll start with something small.
[The former homunculus leans in then, pressing his weight atop the glass and holding it on the point of his nail so sure, so tense, that it whines back with a protest, pathetic and shrill.] Why don't you tell me something you want. Something you really want. And in exchange? [He playfully tilts his head.]
I'll let you ask me to do one thing. [He raises his finger off the glass.] And we'll see if this rumor of ours is any true. A pretty fair deal, don't ya think?
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[ There's something about staring at his reflection in Greed's glasses. Greed is both a presence that fills a room and a mirror leaving Maurice with only himself. What did he want? The yawning speckled void waits for his answer, luxuriating in its vastness. What did he want? ]
[ People don't usually ask Maurice what he wants. The collar's influence bid him speak.]
I want respect.
[ Maurice snaps his teeth closed and instantly he looks stricken, like he's scandalized that he could dare to ask for something so large. Like, who the fuck is HE? ]
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[Greed's eyebrows drift up his forehead, silent yet focused all the same. He plucks his claw off the glass, making it shiver out one, last, finalizing note. Shrrr.] Ha - ! Now see, that wasn't so hard, was it? [The Sin's mouth knowingly shrinks and as he plucks up the glass, he shuffles it underneath the lip of the bar. A task to take handle later, no doubt.] But that's interesting. What makes you think you aren't respected, Maurice? From everything you've told me, you sound like a pretty interesting guy. You haven't been running into any trouble here, have you? Because if you are - [He swipes his tongue behind the cuts of his teeth.] - well, you can just tell them they can come talk to me, hmn?
[Tilting his head, he gives off a glimpse of his throat and all the jewels and gems strung about it catch like pennies in the limelight.] Ah, but before we get to that, suppose I owe you one in return, don't I? [He taps the top of the bar with his nail, leaving behind a fine prick in the wood.]
So, go ahead. You get one ask. Then, we can get to this respect of yours.
no subject
Well...the folks back home talk to me like I'm dumb. Probably 'cause I'm fat and don't have a good job and didn't finish college. It's like they either think I'm stupid or feel sorry for me and I can't...I can't stand it! Horas was supposed to teach me how t'be a vampire (I was a vampire) but he kept just...I dunno, fucking around. And then when we almost get caught by hunters they blame ME! And here, the angels all give me these looks...I ain't done nothin' to them! All I do is--don't tell nobody this--go to the library and read freakin' plays! If they want me to be a problem just so they can feel right, I'll BE a problem!
[ The more he speaks, the more he begins to get just a little heated. Maurice doesn't get heated over much. ]
And my boss is always tryin' to scare me and, I mean, it works, but I wish he wouldn't do that. I got enough to deal with outside of work!
[ His tail is lashing so hard behind him that he is tipping over chairs. ]
Okay--I want another drink. Make it stronger. Uh, please.
no subject
[Greed pinches Maurice's drink by the brim, dragging it away.] There's always going to be those. The self-righteous types. [He starts in, his voice as smooth as a velvet chaser.] And when something doesn't go their way? They look for someone else to blame. That's the thing with people like that. They tend to forget what others are worth.
[At the last bit, his teeth snap together; a light tck. The Sin shoves the glass underneath the counter and as he stretches his back, the fur along his neck slowly rises; its movement more similar to the pull of lifting static. He lets the side of his head sag near his shoulder.] Sounds like it's more their problem than yours, hmn? [The question tickles on his tongue, making the split of it flutter behind his teeth.] Our friends up above have the whole thing wrong. What's good, what's bad. It's never mattered to me.
As for that other thing - [Setting down a fresh glass with one hand, the former homunculus snags an orange with the other. He eases the edge of his thumb against the skin and with a sharp jerk of the wrist, he begins to peel it.] - everyone's got their secrets. We'll just leave it at that.
[Ah, but there's that heat. That simmering, bubbling heat and he knows it, doesn't he? That fine line between frustration and anger that can so easily boil over to wrath. Greed sinks his claw into the orange and as its skin bursts, he levels it over the shaker.] Careful there. As much as I don't blame you, think about it, huh? Would do you no good to make things messier than they have to be. But -
[He swipes his claw and the orange peel rolls off in a single curl.] - might be time to remind some of 'em that this isn't their afterlife, and their rules don't exactly apply. [The Sin pours in some liquor, capping the mix with a delicate tnk of steel on steel. He gives it a slight swirl and the ice inside rolls like rocks in a tumbler.] Ah, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself, aren't I? You still haven't gotten your ask.
[The drink he pours out this time is a heavier one. A simple mix of half vodka, half orange juice with a lick of bitters for good measure. Greed holds the peel over a candle nearby, turning the edges of it to a slight char. He shoves a toothpick through it before setting it on the rim of the glass. Then, with a push, he sends it over to Maurice.]
no subject
I thought the extra drink was my ask...
[ He grabs his drink and takes a moment to appreciate the unique smell before taking a sip. Oh! That's different! He likes it a little more than the Widow actually. ]
Uhmmm...let's see.
[ His usual electric nerves that run through him when In A Social Situation have started to quiet their incessant buzzing. His shoulders un-hunch and he rolls his head from one side to the other as if making sure to coat all surfaces of his brain with the alcohol.]
Can I pet you? You're like a...big kitty.
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[Which is why, maybe, Greed's smile softens a bit. He lifts his shoulders with a lazy shrug before stretching himself over the bar just enough to make his hips knock along the other side of the counter. The collar may be commanding him to do it, but even so. This? This is simple enough.]
[Maurice really is another one of the good ones, isn't he?]
[The Sin coaxes his head to the side, offering up his ear.] Knock yourself out. [He purrs and his tail sways behind him.] Y'know, you're not a bad guy, 'Rice. If you ever find those other jobs of yours aren't working out, why don't you give me a call? This place gets busy enough, and I'm sure we could find something worth your time.
[On cue, he pulls out a napkin and a pen to blindly scribble down a few numbers before pushing it over to Maurice; his head, all the while, held out and waiting for a well-deserved scritch.]
no subject
[ Maurice reaches out and plops a hand between Greed's ears and gives him a good pet. His fur is so soft! Maurice strokes the giant cat man's head and ears and the side of his nec (if he can reach it) for a long moment. It's so nice to pet a kitty. Until he died, he's been allergic. And animals in general didn't like him much when he was a vampire.]
[ Greed's proposal makes sure Maurice doesn't get totally lost in the sauce. He withdraws his hand, satisfied, and takes up his glass again. His brows drift up as he processes what Greed has said. ]
Like a job...? I mean...the radio station doesn't take up a whole lot of my time. I never thought of working in a bar b'fore...could be interesting. What d'you need help with?
I LOST THIS ... feel free to ignore
[When Maurice pulls away, the former homunculus rolls his head, causing one or two of his bones to crack.] Hmn? [He shakes himself out of his momentary stupor as he slowly straightens his back.]
Yeah, like a job. [He turns up the corner of his lip.] And it wouldn't be much. Mostly making sure we have enough stock when we open. That, and taking care of the occasional drop off. [Greed rubs the back of his neck. It may not have been his intent, but the way Maurice had stroked him: it leaves the bristles of his coat standing on end. The look of them more similar to the aftermath of a well-placed, statically charged balloon.]
[He flattens the fur under his palm, gliding it down smooth and slick.] Think about it. [The Sin taps the napkin twice with the tip of his nail. Tck, tck.] Doesn't have to be now. But consider it, would ya?
Got some things to do, but in the meantime, feel free to stick around. [The former homunculus gradually pulls away from the counter. Being as tall as he is now, he shuffles a bit on the balls of his feet, narrowly avoiding the prep station behind him the process. Eventually though (and with a little more effort than usual), he makes his way down the line of the bar. And with one hand raised high, the Sin flicks his wrist; his sendoff, quick and casual.]
Enjoy the drink, 'Rice.